Around the same time he met his future wife Petra, and through her encouragement he found the muse he so desperately needed, releasing a solo EP of original material in 2002. “Yeah, I mean it’s kind of a trip,” Frankenreiter smiles, reflecting. “I always think there’s maybe one person in everybody’s life that guides them or pushes them in the right direction, and it didn’t happen to me until I met my wife. It was all about the timing, too. I think I was ready to fail or succeed doing my own songs, than just covering other people’s music. I just went for it, and she really supported me.”
He and Petra had their first son, Hendrix, in 2003. In 2004, at 29, Frankenreiter released his self-titled debut album under his old pal Johnson’s then-new Brushfire Records label. For the next four studio albums, even though Frankenreiter’s tunes are as carefree and smooth as his surfing, songwriting was not the easiest of practices. Although he learned guitar at 16, he did not begin songwriting until he was close to 30, inspired by the likes of Dylan and Neil Young.
“[Songwriting] was always the same process it’s always been. I just try as much as I can to keep writing songs, and whatever those songs may be, that’s kind of a collection of what the next record will be. It’s an interesting process. It’s not easy for me to write songs. The music we make that goes along with the songs is kind of however I feel, or whatever kind of thing happening at that time, whatever producer, whatever studio we’re in. Things have changed over the last five records, musically. It’s always fun to change it up a bit.”
Compared to other professional athletes and their musical pursuits, there is a unique and an easier transition – as well as an indistinguishable quality of music — between surfers who become musicians and athletes in more mainstream sports and their attempts. Along with Frankenreiter and Johnson, surfers such as Tom Curren, Timmy Curran, Alex Knost and Makua Rothman are known for their tunes, and many more like Kelly Slater, Rob Machado and Andrew Doheny consider music a passionate hobby. Frankenreiter feels the abundance of free time on surfing trips helps the cause. “You spend a lot of time in the water,” he says, “but what do you do with that time when you’re not in the water that you’re searching for that wave? You’ve got a 12-hour flight. You’re on an all-day boat trip. It’s like so much shit goes on to try to find the wave…what do you do with that time?”
“For a lot of people it’s like, ‘pick up an instrument’,” Frankenreiter continues, “and then sometimes it’s a great way to get together and celebrate at the end of a great surfing day, sit around a house and have a house party, a campfire or whatever, and people bring out instruments, and surfers really get into music. You can really hone your craft in the evening if you want, with music, and you surf all day. It’s not like I ever battle with like, ‘Fuck, I’d really love to surf right now.’ This is the only time I can play guitar, you know? It’s perfect for both.”
The sun’s now going down, and Frankenreiter removes his sunglasses. For his latest studio album Start Livin’, Frankenreiter recorded solely with his longtime bassist Matt Grundy in Southern California. With Frankenreiter’s soulful vocals and guitar, the melodic album features such DIY instrumentals as clapping hands, a Tibetan singing bowl, a Zippo lighter and even pots and pans to go with Grundy’s banjo, ukulele and lap steel guitar.
“That was really fun,” Frankenreiter says of the process. “The first time we went in there it just all came together. We just had a process that worked on the first song and we stuck to it, and then – five or seven days later – the record was done. We really didn’t get in there until about five o’clock in the evening, and then we’d get out of there about one in the morning. So it wasn’t like these full long days of craziness, either. We’d just get in there and sometimes we’d do two, three songs a day, and sometimes we’d do one, and that was how we got to the nine tunes.”
The time spent in the studio led Frankenreiter to write his most feel-good – yet his most mature – album to date. With those nine tunes, his inspirations are well-covered; snapshots of love and of his family, of the ocean and Hawaii, as well as world peace and times with those he regarded. One of which is the reflective “A.I.”, which Frankenreiter wrote in memory of his close friend, surfer Andy Irons, who died tragically in November 2010. He talks at length of what Irons meant to him as a surfer and a friend.
“Yeah, well, definitely the greatest surfer in the world,” says Frankenreiter. “You know, he influenced everybody that came after him, and even the people that came before him, he influenced. People that were world champions and other people, “Oh my God, this guy is incredible…” Frankenreiter says, drifting off for a moment. “He lived a rock-and-roll surfing life. He was one that celebrated moments to the fullest and he was an amazing guy, and he inspired a lot of people. But he lived on the edge when he would surf. It was crazy the things that he did, things he saw, places he went, and winning three world titles in a row in the sport that you love, like he did love surfing. It’s an incredible feat, you know? And it’s one of those sad, messed up things that happened, and then for me, I just felt like I needed to write that song. And that one came really quick. That was easy, that one,” he pauses, reflecting again. “Not a day goes by I don’t think about him, you know? Something reminds me of him, somewhere. It was fun writing that song for me emotionally, like getting it out. And then a lot of people tell me, because I didn’t make it so direct, towards him, I just named it after him, but it kind of works for any living thing that might pass away, you can use that song in a way to help you get by or get through.”
Frankenreiter has no greater love than his family, adding second son Ozzy to the fold in 2007, relocating from Southern California to the Hawaiian island of Kaua’i, which, besides providing great surfing, is known for its strong sense of family and community.