Franky Perez doesn’t do well sitting still. The born and raised Las Vegas musician has spent the majority of the past 20 years touring the globe with different bands and rock acts, and when he’s not on the road, he’s usually electrifying audiences at different local bars, lounges and showrooms.
Perez was supposed to rejoin Finnish symphonic metal band Apocalyptica for a tour of North and South America this year. He also recently inked a new deal with Station Casinos that would see him continue to play the Rocks Lounge at Red Rock Resort.
Perez lives for the stage, so when the pandemic struck, he had to figure out a way to keep on living pretty quickly. “It’s tough for a guy like me. I love, love, love being onstage,” he says. “It sounds corny, but it’s where I feel most at home. I had to adjust.”
Like many other musicians, Perez went back to the basics, setting up a makeshift studio in his bedroom and writing a series of songs that became his self-released album, Suddenly 44.
“Every single word, every line sung, it’s all very honest and timely,” he says. “I was never thinking about putting out an album. I just thought I’d have this little body of music to send to friends, which I did as I was making it. And that [feedback] helped me see when I was finished that I had something special. And then when this new opportunity came up, I had a soundtrack for the whole thing.”
Thinking about all the shuttered music venues in Las Vegas and across the country inspired Perez to figure out a way to connect with audiences during this vast shutdown of live entertainment. Armed with a fresh acoustic album that could be performed with little setup, he contacted friends at motorcycle maker Ducati to kick around ideas for some sort of tour. Officials at the company joined in the brainstorming session, and the result found Perez riding across the country for two weeks with a guitar case strapped to his bike, stopping for spontaneous (and some scheduled) performances at some of those closed venues, health care facilities, landmarks and places in between.
“We had to route it somewhat but also leave time for spontaneity. I can plan to leave Vegas and be in San Francisco at a certain time, but on a motorcycle, you have to leave room for changes,” he says. “Being on a motorcycle and crossing the country is so different from being on a bus. You can smell the road. You can literally taste the road. And motorcycle riders have that stigma of being a little unapproachable, but when I’d roll up with a carbon-fiber guitar case, it just opens things up.”
Perez found himself singing some of the most emotional songs he’s ever written, for hospital patients and health care workers that had been separated from their families for weeks and small groups of strangers on the streets of major cities and small roadside towns. For an artist who has had plenty of ups and downs during his long career, it was a life-changing experience.
“It put my career back into perspective,” he says. “Why did I start doing this? When I first picked up a microphone, it came from a place of necessity. I had to do it, had to get it out. And little by little, things happen and it turns into life and work and making money. I’ve always loved it, but when you peel all that back, you’re left with art and how you share that and what it means to you. No matter what happens now, I will always do these types of trips and tours.”
The Crossing the Great Divide tour, as it became known, isn’t over. The first run was captured on film and turned into eight webisodes available at Ducati.com, and Perez says he’s planning to hit the road again next month, riding through the lower half of the country starting in Florida. There’s a possibility of playing actual shows along the way depending on the circumstances, but he says safety is the top priority.
“What was really cool about the entire thing is how it was so organic; it wasn’t forced,” he says. “It came out of a place of being of service, in a sense. And it’s probably one of the most fulfilling things I have ever done creatively.”
