Peter Mulvey is a walking secret handshake. He has been the street-singing kid in Dublin, the man fronting the
storming electric band, the conspiratorial spoken-word craftsman, the Tin Pan Alley delver, an instigator in the
occasional Redbird collective, and all through it he has remained the traveler out on the road, bringing his music
to audiences from Fairbanks to Bilbao, Santa Monica to Montreal, in clubs, theaters, coffeeshops, the Kennedy
Center, and old barns.
Mulvey continues to travel, ears open and wide awake, through the unlimited territory of music. Honing his musicianship, his phrasing, his ability to inhabit a song, he has come into his own, with a sound fu
