Lindsey Byrnes
Audio By Carbonatix
Andrew McMahon has been making music for a long time. He dabbled in poetry as a youngster and “tinkered” on the piano, but the 39-year-old officially wrote his first song when he was in the fourth grade, after being taught one chord on the piano.
“It was this really peculiar kind of beautiful moment for me,” McMahon says over the phone ahead of his band’s Aug. 26 stop in Dallas. “All of a sudden the idea of writing poetry merged with my love of music, and I could actually speak that language because I had been given the tools to, having that simple chord.”
McMahon says he wouldn’t call himself a “prodigy” though.
“I was just … bitten by the music bug,” he says. “We had a piano in the house, and I just chased that down every day and just wrote songs. For me, it felt like I finally had the last piece of the puzzle of who I was. It was like, ‘Oh there it is: music.’ That’s the best way I could explain it.”
The singer-songwriter has built up quite the genre-spanning resume in the years since, finding success in everything from pop-punk to musicals, and switching gears often. McMahon’s first claim to fame was the pop-punk band Something Corporate, which he co-founded in 1998 while still in high school. “SoCo” found their way into the ears and hearts of emo kids everywhere, with tracks like “Hurricane” and “Pop Punk Princess.”
But it wasn’t until McMahon’s next venture, Jack’s Mannequin, which he started in 2004 during a Something Corporate hiatus, that he got a taste of commercial success. (Remember “Dark Blue”?)
These days, McMahon operates under the moniker Andrew McMahon in the Wilderness, a band you probably already know from the 2014 hit single “Cecilia and the Satellite,” which honors McMahon’s daughter Cecilia, who was born that same year. According to McMahon, when the Wilderness release their newest record in 2023, it will be the longest he’s ever kept the same name.
“Whether I just get burned out or what, something happens in life for me … I feel like, after a few records, usually I’m kinda ready to move on to something different,” McMahon says. “It happens for a number of reasons, but I’ve been very lucky that somehow, miraculously, a lot of the fans that were with me at the beginning are still here now.”
The loyalty from his fanbase has proven even more meaningful to McMahon throughout the pandemic, particularly during the lockdowns of 2020, when live music came to a screeching halt.
“It showed me how badly I want to be out there playing for people, and made it feel super important,” he says. “We did drive-in concerts during the pandemic and shows over Instagram live and all that. It made the connections to fans a little bit deeper, and that flows both ways. For me, when I was playing those shows, it felt like good medicine.”
McMahon used that time away from touring and performing wisely. He wrote a book called Three Pianos: A Memoir, which takes readers through the ups and downs of his life anchored by his connection to three special pianos. He says he’d had a deal in the works for the memoir for quite some time, but March 2020 was the perfect time for him to put pen to paper.
“It was real work; it required a lot of discipline that I don’t usually have in abundance,” McMahon says with a laugh. “Songwriting is something that I just do – I sit down, and songs come to me. That’s how it’s been since I was a kid. Writing a book is something that you really have to be there for. You have to show up every day and write for hours to get to a place where it’s coherent and it reads well.”
“I’ve been very lucky that somehow, miraculously, a lot of the fans that were with me at the beginning are still here now.” – Andrew McMahon
“It was difficult on that front, but it was also very healing too,” he continues. “Nothing is as good of therapy as just putting pen to paper and really working out where you stand on things. It helped me clear the deck on a lot of old stuff that I didn’t even realize I was holding on to.”
McMahon is a self-described optimist, but someone who has faced overwhelming challenges throughout his life. In 2005, he was diagnosed with acute lymphoblastic leukemia in the midst of his first tour with Jack’s Mannequin and just before the release of their debut album, Everything in Transit.
According to the Mayo Clinic, “acute lymphoblastic leukemia (ALL) is a type of cancer of the blood and bone marrow – the spongy tissue inside bones where blood cells are made.”
“I was diagnosed when I was 22, which puts you in this category they call ‘AYA cancer,’ adolescents and young adults,” McMahon says. “This group is those aged 15 to 39, and they’re the least researched demographic of cancer patients and also have the fewest options for social support.”
This compelled McMahon to create the Dear Jack Foundation in 2006. According to its website, there are 89,000 new cases of AYA cancer every year. Dear Jack supports patients and survivors in a variety of ways – from the LifeList program that grants wishes for patients and gives them something to which they can look forward, to Breathe Now, which supports survivors and their spouses once they enter remission.
“This month, we’re starting our big giving challenge, called the ‘250 Challenge,'” McMahon says. “Between now and our big event on November 11, which is like our gala concert, we try and raise $250,000. We’ve hit it every year we’ve tried so far. We’ve got a really amazing, dedicated group of folks.”
McMahon has joined forces with Dashboard Confessional, who are, “hands down,” one of the most beloved acts in emo history (sorry, we couldn’t resist) for the Hello Gone Days tour. The tour has rotating openers, including recently reunited rockers Armor for Sleep and Cartel, who will be gracing the stage at South Side Ballroom in Dallas on Aug. 26.
“Chris [Carrabba] and I have done things on and off through both our careers, but never like a proper tour like this,” McMahon says of the Dashboard Confessional singer. “It’s kind of a big parade of good friends from over the years this whole summer.”