The one supposed upshot of the Trump presidency was that it was going to usher in a new era of fierce protest music. Four years later, however, most artists have steered clear of politics.

But not singer-songwriter David Dondero, a folk troubadour with 10 albums under his belt, who was once named one of the 10 greatest living songwriters by NPR, alongside Paul McCartney, Tom Waits and Bob Dylan. Politics have been an overwhelming concern for Dondero since Trump got elected.

“It was where my head was at—how unsettling and horrible it’s been,” Dondero says. “I haven’t seen a lot of people protesting, as much as I thought would be. There’s an aloofness of non-participation. Like 46% of the people don’t even vote. When people don’t participate, you see what we get.”  

Dondero’s travelled all over the country, sometimes in the deep-red counties of the reddest states and performed these songs, like the particularly poignant “Presidential Palace of Pornography.” (“Now the presidential palace of bigotry/The treasonous office of impunity/They’ve got a magic weapon and it’s smoke and mirrors/As the Grand Ol’ Party all hail to their furor.”) Audiences don’t always respond well.

“Sometimes they walk out and flip me the middle finger. I try to figure out ways to have some kind of dialogue. Almost every time, the dialogue is just the middle finger. They’re not willing to talk about it.” Dondero says.

Earlier this year, Dondero released these songs on his latest record The Filter Bubble Blues, recorded right here in Santa Cruz with local musician Dan Potthast producing and playing backing instruments, along with other local musicians like Hod Hulphers, AJ Marquez and Shannon Toombs.

The album is so timely, with references to things like Mueller and Charlottesville, it runs risk of not being relatable in the near future. Dondero hopes that happens.

“I hope it’s dated. I hope it can historically be remembered as this record—this ‘big giant mistake’ period,” Dondero says. “I hope it’s not something I have to keep writing about.”

The record was built off of Dondero and Potthast’s close friendship. They met a decade ago at a Crepe Place show Dondero was playing, and became fast friends. Some years later, Dondero recorded “Rock Bottom” in Potthast’s living room while in town. Dondero liked the experience so much, he asked Potthast if he could record a full-length album in his apartment.

“I’ve done stuff in studios. I prefer a more relaxed atmosphere where it’s not relegated by time,” Dondero says. “Playing with Dan in the past was always really relaxing. He really makes you feel at ease while recording.”

The recording was spread out over late 2018 and early 2019—simple folk songs with light accompaniment. Potthast first recorded Dondero singing and playing his guitar, and would layer other instruments and backing vocals on top, including drums. This backward process gave the songs this very human, easy feel to them, which contrasted the anger and disgust of some of the lyrics.   

The topics—Trump, social media polarization, gun violence, racism—were not easy for Dondero to sing about.

“He feels the moment more than most people,” Potthast says. The process was difficult for him. Sometimes he had to get up and pace, or just stop. We would have to go ride a roller coaster or ride a tandem bike around town. Come back home and give it another shot. And he would bust it out.”

Dondero, who will be playing a private house show locally on Sunday, Feb 23, hopes this record will do more than anger people. He wants people to engage in dialogue, something he tries to do at his shows. He recalls one debate he had with a man in Alpine, Texas who told him how great it felt to fire his gun.

“We definitely agreed to disagree. I had a good time talking to him at least. He was willing to talk without having a fight,” Dondero says. “It’s getting easier to dehumanize people that don’t share your viewpoints, and it’s being done to an extreme level, which is creating effects like people getting murdered.”  

For his next album, Dondero is hoping to highlight our similarities—despite our vehement political differences—by singing songs about the 16 states he’s lived in.

“I love driving around in America—the beauty of America,” Dondero says. “I’m a patriotic person. I’ve lived in all kinds of places all over this country. There’s good people everywhere I’ve gone. I’m excited to go around the country again.”  

For 20 years, Mike Silverman, aka That 1 Guy, has toured the world with his custom one-of-a-kind instrument the Magic Pipe, which looks like a scrapyard cello Tom Waits would play in a post-apocalyptic jug band.

With strums, bangs, and slaps, Silverman can make the Magic Pipe—which is rigged up to pedals, processors and drums triggers—sound like totally different instruments from one song to the next.

“I was trying to create something that had an unlimited range,” Silverman explains. “Sometimes I’m trying to be a punk rock band. Other times I’m trying to be Bootsy Collins. Other times I want to be an orchestra. This tool makes all of that possible.”

Before becoming That 1 Guy in the late ’90s, Silverman played bass with various jazz outfits, led his own prog-outfit the Fabulous Hedgehogs, and started two extremely bizarre solo projects. Frustrated that slapping a double upright bass over a drum machine was too much for most audiences, he decided he no longer cared if anyone wanted to listen to him anymore—he’d go as far out musically as he could. In order to make the music he imagined, though, he’d need a totally new instrument. With that in mind, he designed the Magic Pipe.

“I built it out of plumbing pipes from Home Depot. The electronics were a lot of found objects, just modified. Stuff that I would order from Guitar Center,” Silverman says.

His music with That 1 Guy is a bizarre conglomeration of progressive-jazz, funky-pop and twisted Americana, but its mindboggling wide range blends with Silverman’s eccentric mind and surprisingly has created music slightly more accessible—with a dazzling, eye-popping one-man-band show performance element.

After a few years on the road, indie-folk singer-songwriter Ani DiFranco caught a glimpse of his act and took him on tour with her. She even released some of his music in the mid-2000s, when DiFranco was at the height of her popularity.

“You’re probably expressing yourself more honestly when you’re not trying to make somebody else happy. Ultimately that’s what your audience wants to hear. They don’t want to see you trying to get a record deal,” Silverman says. “It was a beautiful experience. Before that, no audience bigger than 40 or 80 people would ever see it. I had been slamming away at it for years and years and years. That was a major breakthrough.”

Other random opportunities fell in his lap shortly after. A writer from Showtime’s Weeds caught one of his sets and then licensed his funny, sort-of-hip-hop song “Butt Machine” for a scene in the show. They even put a music video for the song on the season’s DVD. Experimental guitarist Buckethead later took him on tour, and made an album with him, exposing That 1 Guy to his legion of loyal weirdo fans.

Silverman has upgraded his Magic Pipe a few times with the help of an aerospace engineer friend. He’s continuously amazed at new techniques he can use; for instance, he has a song where he strums it with a credit card. It sounds like a crazed mashup of funk bass, electro-pop, and heavy metal.

“This instrument was the way to take all this freaky technical stuff I was doing on the upright bass and allow me to do more with it, the best I can as a one-man orchestra,” Silverman says. “It ends up inspiring me to do stuff I never thought or imagined would be possible.”

To add to his already strange show, Silverman recently discovered magic. He moved to Las Vegas to be near the magic community, and has been studying closeup magic from a mentor in Vegas. Now he has a VIP pre-show for a smaller audience where he performs magic for them.

“It was really fun to start something new with a master, and it totally influenced my music. His specialty is close-up magic. That stuff is only really good for 10 people at a time. But it’s kind of the most powerful version of magic. The audience is three feet away and they’re watching these miracles happen in front of their eyes,” Silverman says.

That 1 Guy performs at 8:30pm on Sunday, Feb. 9, at Moe’s Alley, 1535 Commercial Way, Santa Cruz. $10/adv, $15/door. 479-1854.