Trial by fire

The couple appear to be balancing a two-band, three-child household, and Escovedo's actual and lyrical struggles with mortality and maturity find him focusing even more on the notion of family for future inspiration.

"Here's what I wanna do as my next project, or somewhere down the line," he says. "I wanna write my father's story into song. He's 89. He came from Saltillo, Mexico, when he was 12 years old. He's done a lot of stuff and had a very colorful life, and he's had all these kids, and he's just a really cool guy. I'd like to do that and have the family play, and perform it once, and record it. I think it'd be cool. I'd like to give him that much.

"That's the thing about writing songs," Escovedo observes. "I try to say this in a lot of songs: The paychecks are small sometimes, but the one thing you are really fortunate to give is the song. If you can express it and other people dig it or relate to it, it's worth more than money. For me, for my parents, that's all I've got to give them. They're really happy when I do that. It means a lot to them."

So even though, not too long ago, it looked like Escovedo had lost it all, he has rebuilt his home life and renewed his musical career to a point where he seems happy--or, at the very least for now, content. "There's nothing better than coming home. It's beautiful," he says. "It's the coolest thing to, first thing, have kids run up and climb all over you, and your wife is happy to see you. It's a bonus to come back to.