On Monday mornings, Andy Frasco usually wakes up and records a motivational speech for anyone scrolling through his Instagram feed. With his curly puff of hair veering in different directions, his groggy eyes adjusting to the sunlight and a voice still clearing out the cobwebs, he cajoles thousands of followers to go out and crush the week ahead with a tenderness lacking in most interactions — online or face-to-face. It’s unclear whether the visage on screen is at the tail end of an unruly, exultant weekend or one the 35-year-old would rather forget.
When Frasco called in via a Zoom interview on a recent Monday to chat about his atypical jam band’s (officially billed as Andy Frasco & The U.N.) Metro gig this Saturday, his uncharacteristic silence earlier in the day didn’t go unnoticed. Turns out, he didn’t have anything left in the tank to conjure up a pep talk for the masses, especially after giving 100% to an electrifying sold-out show — the biggest he’s headlined in his adopted hometown of Denver — two nights prior.
“It was a Monday morning anxiety attack. I didn’t want to freak anyone out,” he admits. “And I never want to fake anything. I don’t want to do it just to do it.”
Authenticity drives Frasco’s muse and is key to the connection forged by playing 250 shows a year for the last decade. While this relentless pace makes his “anxiety shield” a little less “power proof,” he doesn’t shy away from sharing his struggles with mental health or the substances imbibed to abate those big, dark feelings.
“I’m not lying to myself and suppressing anymore … and now everything’s coming out like vomit,” he explains.
The overthinking, the guilt, the insecurity, the predilection for carousing, the longing for lasting love all get dissected on his “World Saving Podcast” (now in its seventh season), nine studio albums in 13 years (the most recent, “L’Optimist” released in 2023) and on stage. People corner him on the street and message him sharing stories about their own depression or thanking him for lending an ear.
“I have to listen. I read every message. More and more comes every day. And it’s very overwhelming, but I just wanna help,” Frasco says. “I’m not the guy who shreds the guitar. That’s not my purpose in life. My purpose in life is to glue the audience with music and glueing the music lovers with themselves.”
Even though he was inspired to quit college and trade in hustling for music labels like Drive-Thru Records and Capitol to pursue his own songwriting after seeing Irish tearjerker Damien Rice perform, his shows tackle these demons without sacrificing a boisterous, anything-can-happen vibe.
As a frontman, the barefoot Frasco channels the roles of ringmaster, court jester and vaudeville host. If he’s not banging away at the keyboard with a bottle of Jack Daniel’s perilously close to falling off the edge with every thump, you’ll find him crowd surfing, leading the hora — a traditional Jewish wedding dance — or dropping trou just to throw off guitarist Shawn Eckels, drummer Andee Avila, bassist Floyd Kellogg and saxophonist Ernie Chang.
COVID-19 shutting down touring throughout 2020 triggered an “existential crisis” in Frasco about whether his typically charming antics overshadowed the music, drudging up fears dating back to high school of being seen only as a class clown-like entertainer. And wondering if older songs like the Southern rock-inflected “Smokin’ Dope and Rock n’ Roll” catered too much to a drunken aesthetic.
“I was trying to write for the crowd and that wasn’t making me happy,” Frasco reveals. “I thought that’s what the party people wanted to hear.”
He decided to start drinking less, curb his cocaine use and ignore the nagging, judgmental voice inside his head that said a disco song shouldn’t probe deeper. “I learned … I’m not going to be able to do this forever – this crowd surfing. I better start changing the narrative that the songs aren’t important, because they’re important to me,” he asserts.
Trusting himself opened the floodgates for material like “Dancin’ Around My Grave,” an ecstatic imagining of his funeral, complete with instructions for pyrotechnics and a parade. “Spill the Beans” is a honky-tonk ode to unveiling all those idiosyncrasies we’re told to keep hidden in the pursuit of acceptance while “You Do You” speeds up the beating heart of girl-group doo-wop with an unmistakable message aimed at anti-LGBTQ sentiment (Frasco goes full drag in the video). “Iowa Moon” finds the self-professed relationship novice embracing acoustic folk for a true-blue love song picturesque in its details and inching closer toward his ultimate goal: “I want to be a good storyteller.”
The bucket for the next (currently untitled and unrecorded) album already contains 11 songs drafted on the road and during sessions in Nashville with two of his favorite seasoned writers. Frasco set out for Music City about three years ago to develop his craft and “get my chops up.”
“I’m on a roll right now,” he says, worried about sounding a bit conceited. “I’m just in a groove lyrically. I’m Rocky now, baby. It’s round 17; it’s go time. You feel when the wave’s coming, and it’s been coming for this band the last year and I’m not taking it for granted. I’m gonna learn and try to get through the humps, so we can get out of this van and into a tour bus.”
A new tune showing up on the setlist (“What We Used to Be, is Not Who We Are”) serves as a proclamation of every milestone and setback Frasco endured trying to eke out a place in this unstable business and delivers on the promise to reflect the jumbled suspicions we all carry about ourselves. The propulsive chorus also aches to be screamed back.
So who is Andy Frasco right now?
“I’m definitely still the weird dude confused about who he is, but I am mature enough to actually know that I’m confused.”
Janine Schaults is a freelance writer.
Andy Frasco & The U.N. is 9 p.m. on Feb. 17 at Metro, 3730 N. Clark St.; tickets $28-$30 (ages 18+) at metrochicago.com