Trout Fishing in America and the Music That Brings Families Together

Keith Grimwood & Ezra Idlet

There are very few musical groups that can honestly say they have audiences spanning three generations.

Trout Fishing in America is one.

Over the years, Keith Grimwood and Ezra Idlet have created something that almost nobody else has managed to sustain. Parents who first heard them years ago are now bringing their own children to concerts. In some cases, grandparents are coming too.

That does not happen accidentally.

And it definitely does not happen because the music is merely “for kids.”

What struck me most in talking with Keith and Ezra is how intentionally they reject that idea.

Keith says that when they first began performing for children, they did not even know children’s music existed as a separate category. A teacher simply invited them to perform because she wanted students to understand that music came from actual human beings, not just the radio. So they played Beatles songs, blues, folk music, and rock and roll.

“The kids loved it,” Keith said. “We played real music for real kids.”

That philosophy never left them.

Ezra noted that they approach their so-called children’s music with the same level of craft and seriousness they bring to music intended for adults. The songs work on multiple levels intentionally. Children hear one thing. Adults hear another. Families experience it together.

As I read their responses, it occurred to me that cartoons I loved as a childsuch as Rocky and Bullwinkle, things children take to immediately, often have a second layer operating underneath the surface, that makes adults smile too.

That kind of layered storytelling is much harder than it looks.

It explains why Trout Fishing in America has lasted.

The duo itself grew out of almost absurdly unlikely circumstances. Keith was playing with the Houston Symphony Orchestra when he first encountered Ezra’s band, St. Elmo’s Fire. Ezra's bass player quit during a union lockout, Keith sat in temporarily, and somehow the partnership blossomed.

What also fascinates me is how visually improbable the duo appears. Keith is not tall, but Ezra is nearly a seven-footer. Keith knew that there was no point trying to hide the height difference because audiences notice it immediately anyway, so they simply learned to work with it.

That contrast somehow mirrors the music itself. Humor gets balanced against sincerity. Sophisticated musicianship is balanced against complete accessibility.

And underneath all of it, there is genuine affection for audiences.

Keith and Ezra have spent a substantial of their lives on the road together, evolving from the years when their early four-piece band crammed into single motel rooms because money was tight. They have opened concerts for both Bob Dylan and Barney the Dinosaur, which may be one of the strangest and most revealing career summaries imaginable.

They have also endured the kinds of experiences traveling musicians know too well.

Years ago, their van was stolen in Houston. The crooks took basses, guitars, banjos, amplifiers, all of their touring equipment. Keith described standing there realizing that how he reacted to the loss would shape who he became afterward. Eventually the van was recovered, mostly empty. But what stayed with him was a phrase that later became something of a mantra: “These are tools. Precious tools, but still tools.” And they got a song out of it: "Don't touch my stuff!"

That perspective says a great deal about their spirit, about who they are.

There is humor everywhere in Trout Fishing in America, but there is also perspective, resilience, and emotional intelligence. Keith believes that too much seriousness becomes exhausting and too much comedy becomes lightweight. The strength comes from balancing the two.

That balance may be exactly why their concerts feel so human.

For Father’s Day at Wesley’s Place, we are pairing Trout Fishing in America with the annual Wesley's Place pie social because honestly, it feels like the right kind of gathering for this music. Community-centered. Family-centered. Relaxed. Intergenerational.

Keith’s response to that idea was immediate.

“Pie? Did you say pie? I’d come out just for the pie.”

Then he added something more important: “Any music you can share with both your parents and your kids is valuable.”

I think he is exactly right.

And increasingly, that kind of shared experience feels rare enough that we should pay attention when it appears.

Come join us for pie and a lively afternoon of music from one my favorite bands.