PART 1: The long road to REDBIRD
I released my last record in 2012. It was named after a special song on the album. That’s what this story is about. But in the same way that if you googled a recipe right now, you’re going to read the life story of someone’s grandma before they tell you what you should preset your oven to, I’m about to walk you down a long road that ends with an album called REDBIRD.
My last album with a record label was actually in 2008.
I started 2009 with one of the highest highs of my life and one of the lowest lows of my career. I gained a son and lost a record deal all in a few weeks.
That’s another story for another day. I won’t expound upon it here.
But I do want to make it clear: That 2009 started with 30-year-old me going through a major identity shift. I had always been a “recording artist.” From 15 years old to 30 years old, my identity had been based on growing my career as a singer-songwriter, and on paper, the graph always trended upward. Receiving my letter “releasing” me from my record deal was a major market crash and the beginning of a great depression.
I felt like a loser.
I sat in it for a few months. Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted. Thankfully, comfort came, and I snapped out of it. The next chapter was greater than any of the ones that led up to it. The blessings outweighed any curse.
My wife never once made me feel like a failure. We have lived enough ups and downs for me to say with conviction that my wife’s love for me is unconditional and consistent. I have stepped up to the plate and absolutely struck out and walked back to her with my head down, expecting disappointment, only to have her say, “I love you, what do you want for dinner?” I have also swung and hit it out of the park and turned around expecting her to swoon and tell me what an absolute rock star I am, and she would say, “I love you, what do you want for dinner?” Consistent.
But once again, that’s another story for another day. I will share more some other day.
I’m only setting up the story for you: That by 2012, I had no record deal, no manager, no booking agent, and I was making great money for the first time in my life.
Part 2: The Great Crash and the Fight That Followed
The great crash of WARREN BARFIELD’s record industry career turned out to be the greatest gift I could have hoped for. The birth of my son Montgomery at the same time ironically became the greatest catalyst for me to snap into a sink-or-swim work ethic. These things came together at the perfect time, and what seemed like a curse became a great blessing. For the first time in my life, I needed to swim—not for myself, not for my career, but for my wife and son. So I swam.
I was touring more than ever. I was doing small shows again like I used to do before I had a record deal. My expenses decreased dramatically while the knowledge I had gained through the school of hard knocks was starting to pay off. I booked shows on my own instead of using an agent. I negotiated contracts with partners without the help of a manager. I drove myself to shows in my paid-for SUV with 200K miles on it instead of leasing buses and paying drivers. I wasn’t competing with other artists or trying to impress anyone. I set up merch and my gear instead of employing crew. I played my songs on an acoustic guitar without a band. I broke it all down, drove to the next city, and did it all again. I sent the check home to my wife and son without a single commission being taken out by a manager or booking agent.
My dream was to create a marriage event. I met a promoter, shared my vision with him, and made the dream a reality.
Music was absolutely still a part of me, but it was not my core. I used music to disarm, to connect—it opened the door for me to communicate something deeper. We all spend our lives fighting for things. We fight for career, position, title, money, and a monetary definition of success. But all of these things can be taken from us. A letter in the mail can strip most of us of all we’ve ever worked for. So why do we keep fighting for them? If I’m going to spend my life fighting for something, I want to fight for things that matter. I want to fight for my wife and my kids. “Husbands, love your wives the way Christ loved the church and gave Himself for it.” I want to fight that fight. I want that to be my identity. An industry can’t take that from me. Invest in your marriage, invest in your family. It will pay dividends greater than anything this world can offer. I learned firsthand that your wife can walk you through the loss of your career. Your boss will not walk you through the loss of your family. If you’re going to fight for one or the other, choose wisely.
This became my core. This message is who I am. I may sing you a song. I may post a silly video on social media. But at the center of everything I do is a guy who knows what it’s like to lose what you think is important and find out that what’s really important is the thing too many of us men take for granted. She wants to know what you want for dinner, and she will sit with you at the end of every good or bad day.
Part 3: The Song of the Redbird
Okay, so back to the recipe for REDBIRD. Preheat your oven to a guy who loses everything he thought was important, discovers that what’s really important is his family, and wants to write a song for them.
Montgomery was 4, and we now had a little girl named Ada. I had decided I wanted to make another album. I had no record label telling me what kinds of songs would sell. No radio programmers telling me that Christians won’t listen to love songs. So I wrote a song for my family and named the whole album after it.
REDBIRD
Meg and I put the kids to bed that night like we always did. We sang songs, said prayers, and goodnight. We walked across from their rooms to the bonus room, and I started playing this lullaby on my guitar. I wanted to tell them I would always be there for them. Since we had just been sitting in their rooms singing them a song, that image was in my head—that I would be “there singing this song.” I started thinking about a bird in the window singing to them like in the fairy tales. That thought led to the Redbird. I remembered that redbirds didn’t migrate in the winter. When the weather gets bad in the winter and all the other birds fly to milder climates, the redbird stays. Look out your window on a cold, bleak day, and you may see a redbird there, shaking the snow off its back. It’s not a fairweather friend.
The more I worked on the song, the more I questioned myself. You don’t want to spend all this time on a song about a redbird and then discover that the redbird is a scoundrel of a bird. A cousin to a buzzard. So I googled it. Turns out I was right. The redbird is not a migratory bird. I also learned it’s a monogamous bird. It mates for life. It sticks with its companion. The redbird is often the first bird you hear in the morning. It will mark out its territory with a song and protect it. This was all really good because I had already spent a bunch of time on the song. I knew for sure now I was singing this to my family, “I’M GONNA BE YOUR REDBIRD.”
Part 4: The Redbird builds a Safe Nest; HOME
I didn’t have a record label, so now I was keeping 100% of the money from touring, sponsors, and my new album REDBIRD. I hired a guy, Doug, to help me with my growing responsibilities. He was an absolute lifesaver and still considered one of my best friends to this day. I was still driving the truck with nearly 300K miles on it at this point, and we lived off way less than we made. Nearly half of what I earned went to my greedy Uncle Sam, we lived off a fraction of that, and the rest was invested with the plan that I was not pursuing more money and a bigger career, I was pursuing disappearing and focusing on my family.
One of our investments was a piece of land just 30 miles south of where we were living at the time. It was more than just a financial investment. I wanted a place we could get away to as a family. We lived in a neighborhood at the time. I wanted a place to go with the kids and build a bonfire, build a treehouse, stare at the stars, tell stories, and make memories. A safe place to be together. We found 93 acres, bought it, and named it Redbird Acres. Doug made us a sign that still hangs by the gate today.
We had no intention of moving to Redbird Acres. It was undeveloped neglected land. Perfect for a weekend escape but not a place we could see ourselves living. I can honestly say I would never have guessed that 8 years after we bought it, we would sell everything and move our family into an RV while we turned a place named after a song written for my family into a home for our family. That’s exactly what we’ve done. We lived in that RV for 8 months while we cleared land, built a road into the property, and worked to bring in water and power. We built a barn and lived in that for 3 years while we continued to build the farm, learn to raise our own food, and build a house. We have started our 2nd year in our house, and I am writing music and sharing it again after 7+ years of being away from music and social media.
Part 5: The Redbird Recipe: Ingredients for Lasting Commitment
Music is a part of me again. But it is not my core. It’s just a way to communicate something deeper.
The most important thing you can build is not your career. It’s valuable only if it allows you to build a strong family. If you can only choose one, choose the latter. The first can be replaced; the second cannot.
Investments are great. But make sure you are investing first in your marriage.
Life has ups and downs. Seasons change. Conditions can turn harsh overnight. Don’t be a fairweather friend, husband, or dad.
I want my family to know they can count on me. It’s not just a line in a song that I wrote. It’s not just a sign at my gate. For me, it’s a mantra, a way of living. I am not migratory. I don’t leave when things get bad.
I’m gonna be your Redbird.