Sometimes fate is a thief. Just before Christmas 2013, when her youngest of three sons was 17 months old, Deb Talan of The Weepies was diagnosed with stage 3 breast cancer. Stage 4 would have been a death sentence. By New Year’s Eve, she was on chemotherapy. Throughout 2014, she battled while her husband, Steve Tannen, the other half of the duo, hovered anxiously and provided support. He let the world know of Deb’s condition. Steve asked her what she wanted to do … go to Mexico on the weekends, spend their money … and she said, “Stay here, do the chemotherapy, home-school the kids, and write music.” As 2015 began, Steve was able to report online to their fans and friends that Deb had come through — she was, and is, cancer-free and they’re already on their new tour. Their newly released CD, Sirens, came out of that year of struggle. Track two, “Trouble,” written before the diagnosis, seems spookily foreshadowing: I don’t need no trouble, but sometimes trouble needs me… The title track conveys the sense of mortal danger in having strayed from life’s center and drifting: Here lie remains of a ship that sailed too close to the storm / Capsized, grounded, washed-up, sounded … Oh, wise women of the sun / Oh, what have you done / Save this frail one left by Poseidon … One notable sleeper, “Does Not Bear Repeating,” caught my ear after the more obviously meaningful songs: To not lie down on solid ground / not slink around this time… The 16-track album careens through the many wide-ranging phases of that embattled year, including uptempo songs like “Brand New Pair of Wings,” “Sunflower” and a cover of Tom Petty’s “Learning to Fly.” If you’ve ever heard a song in the background of a film or TV show and the joy or sorrow in it seemed to fit the soundtrack of your life, you’ve probably been moved by the music of The Weepies. Media industry music supervisors have been placing their songs in soundtracks for more than a decade. This is their story. The Stars Aligning … Gradually I first heard Steve Tannen sing at the now-defunct Fast Folk Cafe (Tribeca, Manhattan) during my tenure as volunteer manager in the late ’90s. His voice is a compelling mixture of melancholy and edgy, world-wise savvy. I became a devoted fan and followed Steve through many sets at different venues. In June 1999, he was the first cover feature for this publication, just prior to the release of his debut CD, Big Senorita. (Deb Talan was profiled in our November 2001 issue.) My favorite song from that CD, “Love Come Knockin’,” is a haunting prayer for any lonely searcher looking for that one soul mate. In 2000, fate was generous. Steve’s friend, singer/songwriter Teddy Goldstein, gave him Deb’s debut CD, Something Burning. Her voice, with its unique reedy catch, combined with her direct, intelligent songwriting, captivated Steve. He began harmonizing to her songs while driving around. Unbeknownst to Steve, Deb had gotten a copy of his CD and was mutually obsessed. Both recognized a kindred musical spirit in the other. In 2001, Steve traveled to Boston for a gig at Passim’s. Deb came to the show but, nursing a cold and too nervous about meeting him, she couldn’t stay behind afterward for a get-together. Steve was thrilled that she’d come to see him. He claims the set was a blur once he realized she was in the audience. “Better not mess up … that’s Deb Talan out there,” he remembers thinking. Later, when they wrote “Somebody Loved,” Deb sang, Some day when we’re old and worn / Like two softened shoes / I will wonder on how I was born / The night I first ran away from you. In fact, the song is a perfect answer to “Love Come Knockin’,” in its yearning, hopeful sound. It’s one more element in their kindred spirit connection. Kismet Obstructed The two didn’t actually meet until Deb came to New York three weeks later to play at The Bitter End in Greenwich Village. Steve showed up with his band mates and other singer/songwriter friends in tow. While they knew there was a strong connection between them, they both were wary. Romance between musicians is mercurial. Although in denial about a possible amorous relationship, Steve told his band-mate friends she already had a boyfriend, just to fend them off. The two got together after her show and played their songs for each other all night, starting with their most polished work. As the night faded into early morning, they shared half-written songs, each trusting the other to critique them and possibly add new elements. Through the rest of 2001 and 2002, they wrote music and played shows together, one opening for the other and singing harmony during each other’s sets. Meanwhile, as Steve recalled, fearful of creating the same train wreck they’d seen with other musician couples, they did their best to “screw up a good thing.” Ignoring the obvious, each of them dated other people. “All I wanted to do was listen to her sing and sing with her,” Steve said. Both were writing their own albums concurrently and songs written by both were dropping onto both their albums. Many of the songs on Steve’s second album, Stopped at a Green Light, were in essence — although the group didn’t actually exist yet — “Weepies” songs. The same was true of Deb’s second CD, A Bird Flies Out. The Inevitable But Perilous Step Finally, they couldn’t ignore what was right in front of them and asked each other, “What is this? What the heck are we doing here? If we’re writing together and playing together, shouldn’t we be living together?” In 2003, out of desperation and a mutual drive to see if they could make it work, both as a couple and as a musical act, they relocated to what they felt was “neutral ground” — Northampton, Mass. Neither would have any kind of geographical advantage (support network, friends, etc.). The move was productive, but extremely hard on both of them. They set up a recording studio — “since we had no life” — and recorded and wrote. They knew three people in town and when they arrived, those people either moved away or went on tour. Deb and Steve wanted their songs to evoke strong emotions and chose their name from the term “weepies,” used to describe films that made people cry. They recorded and released their first CD, Happiness, and then went on tour, playing hundreds of shows at small venues, building up a network as they went along. Onstage, they were fine, but off, the mood darkened. After around a year, Steve walked into their living room, intending to move out, figuring the act and the relationship were over. Before he could speak, Deb burst into tears, saying she could no longer live in that house or Northampton. Out of relief, Steve laughed and suggested they move to California. Deb jumped at the idea. This turned out to be a turning point for both their career and their relationship. Hello? This is the Unknown Calling Within three weeks, they had packed their 1990 Toyota Corolla with all the recording equipment they could and got themselves to California. They moved into a friend’s bathhouse in his backyard in Pasadena. “Broke and living in a 400-square-foot shack, we were instantly happy. It was a new beginning; a real leap into a total unknown,” they said. In 2005 they released their second album, Say I Am You, and with no booking agent, no manager and no record label, they went back out on tour. They were being noticed and didn’t really know into what they were heading. Their shows started selling out. The previous years of networking had begun paying off. In Chicago, unable to secure a decent time slot at Martyrs’, they agreed to open for a Led Zeppelin cover band … at 6:30 p.m. … in March … not an auspicious booking. When they arrived, a crowd had formed and their hearts sank, trying to figure out how they were going to appeal to a crowd waiting to hear “Get the Led Out.” Surprise … the crowd was there for them. In Nashville and New York, the same thing happened. On Manhattan’s Lower East Side, at the usually easy-to-attend club, The Living Room, close friends of Deb and Steve couldn’t get in. This author was one of them. The fire code had been seriously stretched and the fire marshal was present, causing a delay. The Weepies had outgrown their venues. Nettwerk Records staff came to see them and were impressed. Deb and Steve had been apprehensively viewing invitations from several record labels, but Nettwerk made a really good offer and they accepted. Welcome to Life at the Next Level Upon their return to California, they collapsed and toasted the new year with Robitussin and NyQuil. With no shows and no tour plans, Deb and Steve settled in to ride out their colds. However, life with a record label was just beginning. Sales of Weepies albums usually had a personal quality. Expectations were never that high with record releases. Someone liked it and played it in a yoga class. Someone would hand one to someone else. Another might have heard a song in the car on a trip. It was usually a marathon affair, not a sprint right out of the blocks. Nettwerk’s expectations were higher. Say I Am You was released only digitally from December 2005 to February 2006. It wasn’t released physically until March 2006. At first, Nettwerk was underwhelmed with only 256 sales the first week, which didn’t faze Deb and Steve. Then they watched in amazement as their sales started to explode. By February, the album hit No. 1 in iTunes’ most-downloaded folk albums in eight countries and “World Spins Madly On” from the album became the most-downloaded folk song in the United States. Suddenly the numbers were doubling and tripling. The record label had to convince them to put a bar code on their CD. Deb and Steve had never heard the terms “locale” or “demographic.” Additionally, Happiness and A Bird Flies Out also were selling well. At this point, for reasons still unknown to the pair, their songs were now being placed by media music supervisors in films like Sex in the City (the movie) and Morning Glory and TV dramas like Grey’s Anatomy, Scrubs, One Tree Hill and Dawson’s Creek. They described this uptick in fortune as “heady” and “dreamlike.” The “Band of Brothers” Tour That’s what they called it. Although they still had no money, they were now able to get shows steadily. In 2006, they played 180 shows and toured Europe for the first time. They were invited into the Oxegen Fest, played the same stages as The Who and Depeche Mode, and back in the U.S., were invited to tour with The Indigo Girls, where they played a baseball stadium and the Ryman Auditorium in Nashville (“like coming to church”). They also were invited to play in the Hotel Cafe tour, which at the time was introducing newer artists such as Brett Dennen, Katy Perry and Imogene Heap, along with some not-so-new, like John Mayer. Deb and Steve were so busy they could only join the tour for three weeks. They’d never been part of such an extravagant process. A tricked-out tour bus? They’d only driven in their Corolla. A rider? “Like someone else coming with us?” Steve asked. No, Steve, that’s the perk in the contract that gets you stuff like fresh fruit and champagne in your dressing room! The tour was also going to Europe, but Deb and Steve couldn’t do that part because they’d just been there. They had been on the road for eight months, mostly with little sleep (thus the war-like “Band of Brothers” reference). They returned home in even worse shape than they’d been in the previous year. They found the perfect metaphor for their descent from the tour’s heights when they watched airline baggage handlers carelessly drop two of their guitar cases onto the tarmac, snapping both guitar necks. Then they were informed that the bathhouse was needed by the owner and they had to vacate. Topanga Canyon Interlude Deb and Steve found another back-yard bungalow in Topanga Canyon, a wonderfully quiet location. It was there that they wrote, recorded and released the aptly titled Hideaway, which was released in 2008. They’d each separately go for long walks in the lush, wooded area and come back with song ideas. In 2007, Deb and Steve were married and Deb gave birth to their first son, Theo. Their song, “Can’t Go Back Now,” from Hideaway, was featured in a campaign ad for Obama/Biden and they met Barak Obama at a rally. The official video of the song, directed by Brad Aldous and cleverly depicting the duo as puppets, has been viewed more than a million times. Deb and Steve’s favorite online comment: “If you look closely, they’re puppets.” One tour, planned for 2008, was shaping up to be a disaster but turned out to be a blessing in disguise. Tour promoters reportedly had planned to siphon all the profits and Deb and Steve would have lost huge amounts of money. The tour was cancelled at the last minute, and they stayed home and wrote and recorded Be My Thrill, which was released in 2010. That year, Deb gave birth to their second son, Alexander. Although Be My Thrill was finished in 2009, Nettwork delayed the release so that Steve could plan a tour that would be comfortable for traveling with both kids and still be profitable. Tips from friends in the music business (“always do this; never do that”) allowed for a smooth trip with minimal discomfort. On to the Heartland They had to leave Topanga Canyon in 2009 and tried living in Hollywood. It became clear though, with children, that they’d need a more secure place to live. They’d accumulated enough money by this time to be able to buy a house. However, for the best deal somewhere safe, they wound up relocating to Iowa (just a little east of L.A., you might say) in 2012. [Hey, if it’s good enough for Greg Brown …] Their youngest son, Nico (Nicholas), was born that year. The Dark Journey In December 2013, Deb started feeling discomfort in her right breast. She sought medical attention and received the life-jarring cancer diagnosis. Their journey through the nightmare has been encapsulated on the Stand Up 2 Cancer (SU2C) website. They’re quoted: “We approached it with as much ‘one foot in front of the other’ attitude as we could. We got educated and got allies as soon as possible. We showed up to doctor’s appointments. We called friends. We listened a lot. There were a couple of hard choices at the beginning — what kind of treatment and where — and then there’s not much to do but walk through it.” Deb chose a mixture of Western and Eastern treatments, then surgery. Thankfully, it all worked out. The outpouring of love and support from fans and friends has been especially uplifting for Deb and Steve. Their family motto is quoted on the SU2C website: “‘You turn me into somebody loved’ — Although our eldest son Theo says it’s ‘Don’t crack your head open.’” This article arrives as they’re beginning their current tour. In our area, they’ll be at the Norwalk (Conn.) Concert Hall on June 25 and at The Town Hall in New York City on June 27. We hope to see them at their Manhattan show. We hope readers can see them live or visit them at www.theweepies.com and buy their music.

Sometimes fate is a thief. Just before Christmas 2013, when her youngest of three sons was 17 months old, Deb Talan of The Weepies was diagnosed with stage 3 breast cancer. Stage 4 would have been a death sentence. By New Year’s Eve, she was on chemotherapy. Throughout 2014, she battled while her husband, Steve Tannen, the other half of the duo, hovered anxiously and provided support. He let the world know of Deb’s condition.

Steve asked her what she wanted to do … go to Mexico on the weekends, spend their money … and she said, “Stay here, do the chemotherapy, home-school the kids, and write music.” As 2015 began, Steve was able to report online to their fans and friends that Deb had come through — she was, and is, cancer-free and they’re already on their new tour. Their newly released CD, Sirens, came out of that year of struggle. Track two, “Trouble,” written before the diagnosis, seems spookily foreshadowing: I don’t need no trouble, but sometimes trouble needs me… The title track conveys the sense of mortal danger in having strayed from life’s center and drifting: Here lie remains of a ship that sailed too close to the storm / Capsized, grounded, washed-up, sounded … Oh, wise women of the sun / Oh, what have you done / Save this frail one left by Poseidon … One notable sleeper, “Does Not Bear Repeating,” caught my ear after the more obviously meaningful songs: To not lie down on solid ground / not slink around this time… The 16-track album careens through the many wide-ranging phases of that embattled year, including uptempo songs like “Brand New Pair of Wings,” “Sunflower” and a cover of Tom Petty’s “Learning to Fly.”

If you’ve ever heard a song in the background of a film or TV show and the joy or sorrow in it seemed to fit the soundtrack of your life, you’ve probably been moved by the music of The Weepies. Media industry music supervisors have been placing their songs in soundtracks for more than a decade. This is their story.

The Stars Aligning … Gradually

I first heard Steve Tannen sing at the now-defunct Fast Folk Cafe (Tribeca, Manhattan) during my tenure as volunteer manager in the late ’90s. His voice is a compelling mixture of melancholy and edgy, world-wise savvy. I became a devoted fan and followed Steve through many sets at different venues. In June 1999, he was the first cover feature for this publication, just prior to the release of his debut CD, Big Senorita. (Deb Talan was profiled in our November 2001 issue.) My favorite song from that CD, “Love Come Knockin’,” is a haunting prayer for any lonely searcher looking for that one soul mate.

In 2000, fate was generous. Steve’s friend, singer/songwriter Teddy Goldstein, gave him Deb’s debut CD, Something Burning. Her voice, with its unique reedy catch, combined with her direct, intelligent songwriting, captivated Steve. He began harmonizing to her songs while driving around. Unbeknownst to Steve, Deb had gotten a copy of his CD and was mutually obsessed. Both recognized a kindred musical spirit in the other.

In 2001, Steve traveled to Boston for a gig at Passim’s. Deb came to the show but, nursing a cold and too nervous about meeting him, she couldn’t stay behind afterward for a get-together. Steve was thrilled that she’d come to see him. He claims the set was a blur once he realized she was in the audience. “Better not mess up … that’s Deb Talan out there,” he remembers thinking. Later, when they wrote “Somebody Loved,” Deb sang, Some day when we’re old and worn / Like two softened shoes / I will wonder on how I was born / The night I first ran away from you. In fact, the song is a perfect answer to “Love Come Knockin’,” in its yearning, hopeful sound. It’s one more element in their kindred spirit connection.

Kismet Obstructed

The two didn’t actually meet until Deb came to New York three weeks later to play at The Bitter End in Greenwich Village. Steve showed up with his band mates and other singer/songwriter friends in tow. While they knew there was a strong connection between them, they both were wary. Romance between musicians is mercurial. Although in denial about a possible amorous relationship, Steve told his band-mate friends she already had a boyfriend, just to fend them off. The two got together after her show and played their songs for each other all night, starting with their most polished work. As the night faded into early morning, they shared half-written songs, each trusting the other to critique them and possibly add new elements.

Through the rest of 2001 and 2002, they wrote music and played shows together, one opening for the other and singing harmony during each other’s sets. Meanwhile, as Steve recalled, fearful of creating the same train wreck they’d seen with other musician couples, they did their best to “screw up a good thing.” Ignoring the obvious, each of them dated other people. “All I wanted to do was listen to her sing and sing with her,” Steve said. Both were writing their own albums concurrently and songs written by both were dropping onto both their albums. Many of the songs on Steve’s second album, Stopped at a Green Light, were in essence — although the group didn’t actually exist yet — “Weepies” songs. The same was true of Deb’s second CD, A Bird Flies Out.

The Inevitable But Perilous Step

Finally, they couldn’t ignore what was right in front of them and asked each other, “What is this? What the heck are we doing here? If we’re writing together and playing together, shouldn’t we be living together?” In 2003, out of desperation and a mutual drive to see if they could make it work, both as a couple and as a musical act, they relocated to what they felt was “neutral ground” — Northampton, Mass. Neither would have any kind of geographical advantage (support network, friends, etc.). The move was productive, but extremely hard on both of them. They set up a recording studio — “since we had no life” — and recorded and wrote. They knew three people in town and when they arrived, those people either moved away or went on tour.

Deb and Steve wanted their songs to evoke strong emotions and chose their name from the term “weepies,” used to describe films that made people cry. They recorded and released their first CD, Happiness, and then went on tour, playing hundreds of shows at small venues, building up a network as they went along. Onstage, they were fine, but off, the mood darkened. After around a year, Steve walked into their living room, intending to move out, figuring the act and the relationship were over. Before he could speak, Deb burst into tears, saying she could no longer live in that house or Northampton. Out of relief, Steve laughed and suggested they move to California. Deb jumped at the idea. This turned out to be a turning point for both their career and their relationship.

Hello? This is the Unknown Calling

Within three weeks, they had packed their 1990 Toyota Corolla with all the recording equipment they could and got themselves to California. They moved into a friend’s bathhouse in his backyard in Pasadena. “Broke and living in a 400-square-foot shack, we were instantly happy. It was a new beginning; a real leap into a total unknown,” they said.

In 2005 they released their second album, Say I Am You, and with no booking agent, no manager and no record label, they went back out on tour. They were being noticed and didn’t really know into what they were heading. Their shows started selling out. The previous years of networking had begun paying off. In Chicago, unable to secure a decent time slot at Martyrs’, they agreed to open for a Led Zeppelin cover band … at 6:30 p.m. … in March … not an auspicious booking. When they arrived, a crowd had formed and their hearts sank, trying to figure out how they were going to appeal to a crowd waiting to hear “Get the Led Out.” Surprise … the crowd was there for them. In Nashville and New York, the same thing happened. On Manhattan’s Lower East Side, at the usually easy-to-attend club, The Living Room, close friends of Deb and Steve couldn’t get in. This author was one of them. The fire code had been seriously stretched and the fire marshal was present, causing a delay. The Weepies had outgrown their venues. Nettwerk Records staff came to see them and were impressed. Deb and Steve had been apprehensively viewing invitations from several record labels, but Nettwerk made a really good offer and they accepted.

Welcome to Life at the Next Level

Upon their return to California, they collapsed and toasted the new year with Robitussin and NyQuil. With no shows and no tour plans, Deb and Steve settled in to ride out their colds. However, life with a record label was just beginning.

Sales of Weepies albums usually had a personal quality. Expectations were never that high with record releases. Someone liked it and played it in a yoga class. Someone would hand one to someone else. Another might have heard a song in the car on a trip. It was usually a marathon affair, not a sprint right out of the blocks. Nettwerk’s expectations were higher.

Say I Am You was released only digitally from December 2005 to February 2006. It wasn’t released physically until March 2006.

At first, Nettwerk was underwhelmed with only 256 sales the first week, which didn’t faze Deb and Steve. Then they watched in amazement as their sales started to explode. By February, the album hit No. 1 in iTunes’ most-downloaded folk albums in eight countries and “World Spins Madly On” from the album became the most-downloaded folk song in the United States. Suddenly the numbers were doubling and tripling. The record label had to convince them to put a bar code on their CD. Deb and Steve had never heard the terms “locale” or “demographic.”

Additionally, Happiness and A Bird Flies Out also were selling well.

At this point, for reasons still unknown to the pair, their songs were now being placed by media music supervisors in films like Sex in the City (the movie) and Morning Glory and TV dramas like Grey’s Anatomy, Scrubs, One Tree Hill and Dawson’s Creek. They described this uptick in fortune as “heady” and “dreamlike.”

The “Band of Brothers” Tour

That’s what they called it. Although they still had no money, they were now able to get shows steadily. In 2006, they played 180 shows and toured Europe for the first time. They were invited into the Oxegen Fest, played the same stages as The Who and Depeche Mode, and back in the U.S., were invited to tour with The Indigo Girls, where they played a baseball stadium and the Ryman Auditorium in Nashville (“like coming to church”). They also were invited to play in the Hotel Cafe tour, which at the time was introducing newer artists such as Brett Dennen, Katy Perry and Imogene Heap, along with some not-so-new, like John Mayer.

Deb and Steve were so busy they could only join the tour for three weeks. They’d never been part of such an extravagant process. A tricked-out tour bus? They’d only driven in their Corolla. A rider? “Like someone else coming with us?” Steve asked. No, Steve, that’s the perk in the contract that gets you stuff like fresh fruit and champagne in your dressing room! The tour was also going to Europe, but Deb and Steve couldn’t do that part because they’d just been there. They had been on the road for eight months, mostly with little sleep (thus the war-like “Band of Brothers” reference). They returned home in even worse shape than they’d been in the previous year. They found the perfect metaphor for their descent from the tour’s heights when they watched airline baggage handlers carelessly drop two of their guitar cases onto the tarmac, snapping both guitar necks. Then they were informed that the bathhouse was needed by the owner and they had to vacate.

Topanga Canyon Interlude

Deb and Steve found another back-yard bungalow in Topanga Canyon, a wonderfully quiet location. It was there that they wrote, recorded and released the aptly titled Hideaway, which was released in 2008. They’d each separately go for long walks in the lush, wooded area and come back with song ideas. In 2007, Deb and Steve were married and Deb gave birth to their first son, Theo. Their song, “Can’t Go Back Now,” from Hideaway, was featured in a campaign ad for Obama/Biden and they met Barak Obama at a rally.

The official video of the song, directed by Brad Aldous and cleverly depicting the duo as puppets, has been viewed more than a million times. Deb and Steve’s favorite online comment:

“If you look closely, they’re puppets.”

One tour, planned for 2008, was shaping up to be a disaster but turned out to be a blessing in disguise. Tour promoters reportedly had planned to siphon all the profits and Deb and Steve would have lost huge amounts of money. The tour was cancelled at the last minute, and they stayed home and wrote and recorded Be My Thrill, which was released in 2010. That year, Deb gave birth to their second son, Alexander. Although Be My Thrill was finished in 2009, Nettwork delayed the release so that Steve could plan a tour that would be comfortable for traveling with both kids and still be profitable. Tips from friends in the music business (“always do this; never do that”) allowed for a smooth trip with minimal discomfort.

On to the Heartland

They had to leave Topanga Canyon in 2009 and tried living in Hollywood. It became clear though, with children, that they’d need a more secure place to live. They’d accumulated enough money by this time to be able to buy a house. However, for the best deal somewhere safe, they wound up relocating to Iowa (just a little east of L.A., you might say) in 2012. [Hey, if it’s good enough for Greg Brown …] Their youngest son, Nico (Nicholas), was born that year.

The Dark Journey

In December 2013, Deb started feeling discomfort in her right breast. She sought medical attention and received the life-jarring cancer diagnosis. Their journey through the nightmare has been encapsulated on the Stand Up 2 Cancer (SU2C) website.

They’re quoted: “We approached it with as much ‘one foot in front of the other’ attitude as we could. We got educated and got allies as soon as possible. We showed up to doctor’s appointments. We called friends. We listened a lot. There were a couple of hard choices at the beginning — what kind of treatment and where — and then there’s not much to do but walk through it.” Deb chose a mixture of Western and Eastern treatments, then surgery. Thankfully, it all worked out.

The outpouring of love and support from fans and friends has been especially uplifting for Deb and Steve. Their family motto is quoted on the SU2C website: “‘You turn me into somebody loved’ — Although our eldest son Theo says it’s ‘Don’t crack your head open.’”

This article arrives as they’re beginning their current tour. In our area, they’ll be at the Norwalk (Conn.) Concert Hall on June 25 and at The Town Hall in New York City on June 27. We hope to see them at their Manhattan show.

We hope readers can see them live or visit them at www.theweepies.com and buy their music.