I’ve been wanting to sell something more than music for a long time — something people can hold in their hands, something that tells a story.

Now it’s happening.
The first wave? Strum Life™ coffee mugs for musicians — bold, loud, and unapologetic.
The next wave? Guitar accessories and gear designed for the kind of player who lives and breathes music.

Strum Life™ isn’t just merch — it’s a guitarist’s lifestyle brand.

It’s for the musician who:

Chooses music over a relationship because the guitar came first.

Lays awake at night wondering how guitar will fit into the life they’re building.

Goes the distance — and comes back with scars and stories.

Keeps chasing the dream when everyone says, “You don’t have what it takes.”

Treats guitar like an extension of their soul, not just a hobby to kill time.

If you’ve ever been told you’re “too obsessed” with music — welcome home. Strum Life™ is for the brothers and sisters who treat guitar as a craft, not a pastime.

Right now, the store’s stocked with sarcastic coffee mugs for guitar players and inspirational musician mugs that actually say something. Soon, we’ll be dropping unique guitarist gifts and practical guitar gear you won’t find at the big-box music stores.

Because Strum Life™ is dedicated to the players who keep showing up, no matter what.

👇 Shop the first drop here:
Strum Life™ Store →

by Mike Glendinning

It's sad. I remember hearing that Steve Jobs envisioned the smartphone as a tool to help people connect — to close the gap between dream and reality. To make the next deal. To collaborate. Innovate. Push society forward, just like that old Apple commercial said. And yeah, there are a few folks I've seen actually do that.

But most days, when I’m riding BART, what I see is people locked into endless loops of TikTok — watching videos of people eating weird shit, cats boxing each other, or some stranger playing Candy Crush. That’s not what this technology was meant for. It’s not helping us grow. It’s numbing us.

I remember reading a book called Who Should Play God, where people debated how much tech the human brain can really handle. Looking around today, it feels like the smartphone might be the limit. The last stop. Anything more complex and we either tune it out, or let it be weaponized against us.

If it wasn't for technology, I wouldn't have had a chance in hell at a music career. I started with DAT machines — even got lucky with two-inch tape a few times. Back in the '90s, I had no idea how rare and cool that was. Years later, I started learning digital audio workstations. I got lucky meeting a few Brainiacs who sat me down and showed me how to navigate programs like Digital Performer, Cakewalk, and Sonar.

I'm not a tech wizard. But I know how to ask the right questions. I’ve learned where to look, what to search, who to listen to — and that’s already more than most people are encouraged to do these days.

I don’t see technology being used the way it was meant to be. If it were, we wouldn’t have such wide class gaps. We wouldn’t be this disconnected, this easy to distract. It’s like people are being conditioned not to ask the hard questions. Not to sit down, talk things out, or pull out a calculator and figure out how bad we’re all getting played.

So what is it? Are we afraid of what we might find? Or has technology just made us so comfortable we don’t want to know?

Or maybe — and this is the part that scares me — maybe the people in charge want it this way. Maybe they figured out a long time ago that tech can either set people free, or shut them up.

Food for thought.