WHEN: Sunday September 18 ~ 6:00pm.
WHERE: The Commons Theater.
Tickets: $15 at the door or at Bad Axe Music, 119 W Court St. or online at
https://www.eventbrite.com/e/je-sunde-tickets-373064765757
The Commons Foundational Members $12 at Bad Axe Music or at the door.
J.E. Sunde (Jonathan Edward Sunde) is a songwriter and composer based out of Minneapolis, MN. Jon studied western classical music with a vocal emphasis at the University of Wisconsin Eau Claire. Starting in college, Jon spent ten years making beautifully unusual music with The Daredevil Christopher Wright. He has since released three solo records with his most recent record, “9 Songs About Love,” released in November of 2020. With a love of songwriters and performers like Leonard Cohen, Nina Simone, and Paul Simon, Jon writes densely poetic songs with a bent toward the philosophical. Also, his voice sounds like some sort of weird angel.
FOR MORE INFO:
https://www.facebook.com/J.E.Sundemusic
https://www.instagram.com/sundeje/ or @sundeje
https://twitter.com/JESUNDEMUSIC
More about J.E.Sunde by Grayson Currin…
Not long after he crossed over to the high side of 30, Minneapolis songwriter J.E. Sunde realized that his life had not quite followed the trajectory he’d expected. After nearly a decade alongside his brother and best friend in the magnetic folk trio The Daredevil Christopher Wright and a pair of solo albums, Sunde had found only limited professional success. The tours and the proverbial yearning to make it had zapped his energy and ambition, too. What’s more, old pals were already getting married and raising families, while he struggled to sustain the long-term romance he craved. He couldn’t help but wonder: Is something wrong with me?
“I wrestled with this real sense that I’m not worthy, that I had done something to screw up my chance to find a partner or happiness,” remembers Sunde. “It could be embarrassing and confusing.”
To explore that question and sense of isolation, Sunde turned, once again, to song. And rather than a sense of despair, he was surprised to find a more inspiring unified theme: love. For two years, he seemed to turn out one tune after another that, if it didn’t include the very word in the title itself, at least hinged on the perils and promises of that most broad and deep feeling. On “Your Love Leaves a Mark,” he glimpsed redemption in the mundane image of a lover rising from the bed each morning and dressing for work. On “Clover,” he considered how our politics and beliefs are mostly an expression of what we have chosen to embrace and love. On “I Love You, You’re My Friend,” he vowed to be vulnerable and open with the people he cared for, to show love by showing up and being honest.