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Everson Pines @ High Dive

  • High Dive 513 North 36th Street Seattle, WA, 98103 United States (map)




Over a short period of time, Tommy Alexander has emerged as a modern-day DIY trailblazing troubadour. 
"A phenomenal talent." - Michael McDonald

"Wicked Indie rock." - Brett Lanier (Barr Brothers)

"A different kettle of gravy." - Willy Tea Taylor

“The downright truth about Alexander is that he is an expression of rebellion in a society that is trapped within institutional conformities and down-the-road retirement plans. Filled with an introspective and strikingly truthful style of songwriting, his music can be downright mind-bending -- especially for those of us who have grown used to Pandora's corporate jukebox and the cultural clichés that run with it.” - Huffington Post

Tommy & co. have been fortunate to share the stage with bad-ass artists including: Mac Demarco, Michael McDonald, Big Thief, Willy Tea Taylor, Susto, Spirit Family Reunion, Aaron Lee Tasjan, Twain, People Under The Stairs, Whiskerman & Taylor Kingman.



Everson Pines is a Seattle based band founded by Trevor Lyon and Karl Benitez, two childhood friends who simply decided to start jamming one day. What started as fun aimless jam sessions, has grown into an obsession for classic rock riffs and pop melodies. With a double singer/songwriter contribution, every song has a unique flavor ranging from melodic and heartfelt to crunchy and hard-rocking. We harken back to the days when musicians plugged into their amps and let their axes do the talking. At an Everson Pines show, you’ll be sure to have a good time, while hearing a mix of familiar sounds from bands you probably love like we do: Drive-By Truckers, Wilco, and The Band.

With the help of producer Geoff Stanfield (Sun Kil Moon, Grace Weber, Firehorse) and engineer Sam Hofstedt (Pearl Jam, Soundgarden) we've recently finished our debut EP Please Be Still. Recorded mostly live at Studio Litho in Fremont, Please Be Still leans heavily on the classic sounds of electric guitars being played through cranked amps, Fender Rhodes and Wurlitzer pianos, and the unmatched combo of the Hammond Organ coming through a Leslie. After three marathon days of hauling gear, shredding our guitars and voices we succeeded in creating a fun rock n roll record that is as much fun to listen to as it was to record.



Taylor Kingman makes music that resets the clocks. You know the feeling of standing beneath a trestle on a hard day, a can of cheap beer, flicking a lighter and dreaming up wild ideas until a heavy train comes thundering overhead and you scream and scream until your voice gives out and you feel lighter? That’s the thing that lives deep in Taylor’s songs. There’s something so rubbed-raw honest and drunken-truth about them. You can’t help but be transfixed and transformed.

Born in Portland, OR and raised in Marion County, Taylor picked up a guitar and started writing at 12. In high school, he formed The Hill Dogs, a raucous, powerful band that hit hard beneath his explosive lyrics. After graduating, he wrote like a madman, played out heavily with the band, and taught guitar on the side.

In 2015, Taylor packed up and headed to Portland where he played anywhere and everywhere with The Hill Dogs until he blew out his voice and had to halt the band. The restrictions of his healing vocal chords gave way to a deluge of new writing. Taylor joined multiple projects around the city with some of Portland’s finest and recorded his debut solo album Wannabe at the great Mike Coykendall’s studio, due out November 17th on Mama Bird Recording Co. He recently formed ‘TK and the Holy Know Nothings’ with Lewi Longmire, Jay Cobb Anderson, Tyler Thompson, and Josh Simon as a vehicle for a growing ocean of new material.

Of writing songs, Taylor says, “Each word is a world waiting to swallow me whole. I get drunk off the pitter patter poetry of lines that root me to the cold, unforgiving ground, all at once, drowning me in the violent beautiful futility of humanity, yet, also, set fire to my eyes, sending me swirling and whirling, floating blind and thoughtless through the maze of the mind. I want the words to explode bloody in all their truth, for better or worse. Vivid images dripping with feeling bursting like lightbulbs in the back of the head.” Enough said. Train thundering. Sparks raining down.