Joe Driscoll’s mouth is neat. 

 

It can both plan a new infrastructure system and beatbox.  

 

And as it told me: “Yeah, it’s insanity.” 

 

I met Joe’s mouth (and the rest of him) in an empty conference room on the fourth floor of Syracuse City Hall. He wore a white button-down, jeans and Merrell hiking shoes. Plus an accessory I wasn’t anticipating– a newborn baby. 

 

At no point did I know what was going to happen next. 

 

We went right into his music background. The beginning is very much a beginning– from when he was a fussy baby and the only way his mom could quiet him was with headphones and music. Then it’s getting his first few instruments in elementary school, which builds to playing free shows at his high school parties. The Beatles’ “White Album” and Bob Marley’s “Rastaman Vibration” are a few of his picks. 

 

Then he books a European tour. Lives in England for twelve years. 

 

“I was this carefree crazy musician like, you know, playing festivals in England and staying awake till 4:00 a.m. then passing out in a tent, you know?”

 

I didn’t really know. But I nodded my head anyway. 

 

It was a life of living out of his backpack and couch surfing. “Nomad Joe” was what they called him– “they” being his manager and music friends. Also Ed Sheeran.

 

“You’re going to think I'm making shit up,” Joe said before a pause. “Ed Sheeran used to come to my shows when he was 16. He would ask ‘What pedal are you using?’ And then he got the pedals and took it to a whole new level, obviously. It's funny, because years later people are like, 'Oh, you're trying to do like an Ed Sheeran thing.’ And I'm like, ‘Man, that little kid was watching my shows.’” 

 

Over a decade vagabond, playing European stages with his hip-hop and folk-inspired tunes, and dabbling in a bit of talent acquisition, Joe was a rockstar. 

 

“I didn't make a million dollars playing music, but I filled five passports,” he said. 

 

---

 

Fast forward to 2014. Bernie Sanders is preparing for his campaign. Joe moves back to his hometown of Syracuse and gets involved.

 

“I was always kind of obsessed with politics. My father worked in politics, so I grew up pretty civic-centered,” he said. 

 

Music at night, raising $30,000 through musical fundraisers and leading large-scale grassroots campaigns during the day. How he got into it: “It was kind of by accident.”

 

Maybe less accidental and a bit more destined, Joe then ran for Syracuse 5th District Common Councilor and won. “I ran for the seat that my dad once ran for but never won. So, that was really cool.”

 

A rockstar on the council. Three terms later, he accepts a job as project director of Syracuse’s monumental I-81 Viaduct Project, which aims to reverse the geographic segregation imposed by the highway’s construction back in 1960. In this position he works with various departments of the city government to guide the massive project and manage its potential impact on residents and city infrastructure.

 

—

 

Some real texts sent to Joe by his previous music manager: 

 

“Your story is an incredible arc. As I've said many times before, it's a tough look being the drunk 50-year-old musician in the club trying to pick up 20-year-olds.”

 

“I think you timed your life out perfectly. Whoever knew that the Nomad Joe Driscoll would transition into Mr. Driscoll a professional. I imagine someday it will be a case study at Syracuse University, many, many years in the future.”

 

“A student asking: ‘What are you studying?’ ‘Oh, modern man studies: The weird musician who turned to politics in several complicated but successful steps.’”

 

My next lesson in modern man studies: The art of intuition.

 

Throughout our entire conversation, that one word flashed over his head like a neon sign.

​

“Would you say you're an intuitive person?” I said.

 

“Yeah, definitely,” he said. 

 

“I always ran by the concept of turning something that’s disgusting or frustrating into something positive. Like with music.”  

 

“A lot of what I was trying to do as a musician was to hit people with ideas on how to change the world. I think that's a big thing in politics as well.”

 

His intuition is also what guides him in his big positions like common councilor and project manager of a complete city infrastructure shakedown. 

 

His music years in Europe may not have been a top-of-the-list required skill, but his desire to learn was his qualifier. At the interview for the I-81 position, he told the hiring board, “I’ve studied this day and night for five years.” 

 

And it’s the same thing at the job. “If I ever don’t know, I figure out who the smartest person is on a subject and ask for their opinion.”

 

Joe runs on instinct, like when he jumped to help his crying baby in the middle of our conversation. A pacifier did the job, but I wondered, hoped, if he sings his child to sleep. Or beatbox. 

 

European stages traded for a cubicle. Couch surfing for 9am conference calls. No more Nomad Joe, he’s all settled now.

 

“Now I eat oatmeal every morning,” he said.