Today we’d like to introduce you to Martin Shrode.
Hi Martin, thanks for joining us today. We’d love for you to start by introducing yourself.
I was born in 1963, and music was always in the background of my life. My mom played classic country, B.B. King, The Ink Spots, even surf music like “Wipeout.” She loved to sing and sounded a lot like Patsy Cline. I can still picture her and my uncle jitterbugging in the living room. At the time, it just felt normal. Looking back, that’s where the foundation was laid.
I took a couple of years of guitar in junior high, but after high school in 1982 I joined the Marine Corps Reserve and went into computer school. Life moved fast after that career, marriage, raising kids. Music became something that happened at family parties and karaoke nights. For years, I barely touched the guitar.
In 2006, my wife gave me a singing lesson for Christmas. That small gift changed everything. Friends and family had always encouraged me to sing more, but that lesson nudged me forward. Not long after, I sang at a country club party in Rancho Bernardo. When a woman handed me $40 afterward, I tried to give it back. I didn’t think I deserved it. A buddy looked at me and said, “You should keep it.” That moment stuck with me.
Around 2008, I joined a vocal ensemble that started with a $100 Costco karaoke machine and no expectations. Over the years, we performed at retirement communities and special events, reinvesting everything back into the show. What began as something small grew into a 12-member production with a trailer, wireless PA system, risers, and costumes. Along the way, I had the chance to briefly record a demo CD in Burbank with Alan Paul of Manhattan Transfer and work with incredible vocalists like Darmon Meader and Dodie Stevens. Those experiences built confidence I didn’t even know I needed.
Still, I never imagined doing this professionally.
In 2014, I was invited to sing country songs at the Escondido Moose Lodge, and that’s when I caught the band bug. I sang with a few startup country groups, learned the ropes, and gained experience. Then COVID hit, and everything stopped—except for backyard bluegrass jams with friends. Neighbors would listen from their yards and cheer. That period made something clear: if I wanted this, I had to build it.
So in 2022, I started from scratch. Craigslist ads. Coffee meetings. That’s how I met our drummer, Cory Wilkins. We both had ads up, he was looking for a country band, and I was looking for a drummer. I had learned that if you lock in a strong rhythm section first, everything else can fall into place. From there, we built what is now Lefty Martin & His Right Hand Band.
We officially formed in August 2022 and were gigging by September. In our first full year, we booked over 80 shows. The following year, we played 96 events sometimes four in a weekend, once even three in one day. We’ve headlined Brawley Cattle Call two years in a row for crowds of 8,000–10,000, played the Beer Garden stage during a Dierks Bentley show for more than 10,000 people, and performed throughout Southern California at city concert series and major venues.
We’ve become a gig-hardened, community-rooted Southern California country dance band. Whether we’re playing for 1,000 people or five, we bring it. We show up early. We stay late. We work hard to make sure the dance floor fills up.
The biggest shift came more recently.
Over the last few years, I lost my mom and then my dad. Watching time move that fast forces you to face something simple and heavy: time isn’t guaranteed. At the same time, the band was growing quickly, and I realized my day job—while it had supported my family for decades, was now slowing down something that felt alive.
In December 2025, at 62 years old, I retired to pursue music full-time.
Not because I think I’m going to “make it big.” There are so many incredible artists out there. I’m just an old guy doing the best he can with what he has. I’m not getting rich doing this and I’m okay with that. I just hope my team makes a few bucks and feels proud of what we’re building.
What I am chasing is something different: legacy.
Before my dad passed in April 2025, he told me he wanted me to have his songs, that it was all he had to give. After he was gone, I found lyrics scribbled on scraps of paper, envelopes, old CDs, and USB drives. Cory and I have been piecing them together, rewriting and arranging where needed. Preserving those songs feels like honoring him.
When I think about my kids and someday my grandkids, I want them to be able to look back at this chapter and say, “That’s my dad,” or “That’s my grandpa.” I want there to be something tangible, songs, videos, stories, that shows I went for it.
At the end of the day, this isn’t about being the best band in the world.
It’s about connection.
It’s about honoring where we came from.
It’s about making the most of the time we have.
And proving it’s never too late to go all in.
Alright, so let’s dig a little deeper into the story – has it been an easy path overall and if not, what were the challenges you’ve had to overcome?
It definitely has not been a smooth road. That’s simply the reality of building something from the ground up.
One of the biggest challenges has been alignment. Cory and I are extremely driven, and when you’re trying to grow a band quickly, not everyone operates at the same pace. Musicians are at different stages in their lives, with careers, families, and shifting priorities. Availability can change overnight. Finding the right mix of talent, chemistry, and commitment takes patience and flexibility.
Leadership, I’ve learned, is about adjusting without losing momentum.
We’re also building a travel-ready version of the band. Local gigs are one thing. Taking a tight, reliable unit on the road consistently is another. It requires coordination, commitment, and trust.
Financially, it’s humbling. Most of what we earn goes straight back into gear, sound, production, and promotion. There’s something about loading in, counting off the first song, and watching a dance floor come alive that keeps pulling me back.
There are sacrifices. Heavy gig schedules can strain time with family and friends. I’m grateful for the support I have, but that balance is something I stay aware of and work to protect.
There’s also a behind-the-scenes effort people don’t always see. Some members require extra coordination getting to and from gigs, and sometimes a hand navigating on and off stage. Loyal friends step in to help with transportation, load-in, setup, and teardown. The musicianship speaks for itself once the downbeat hits, but behind the curtain there’s a quiet team effort that keeps everything moving.
That support system reminds me this band is bigger than just the people under the lights.
Through it all, we give back. At the Escondido Moose Lodge, we help produce Moosestock, a multi-day community event where we provide backline, sound, promotion, and help move bands on and off stage.
Recently, we participated in a five-band fundraiser in Santee supporting the local VFW. It ended up raising over $2,000 to help them cover rent for the month. We didn’t even know that was the need going in.
We know we could be playing higher-paying events some weekends. But that’s not always the point.
The challenges have made us tougher, more adaptable, and more intentional. They’ve forced me to grow not just as a musician, but as a leader.
Appreciate you sharing that. What else should we know about what you do?
One of the most meaningful parts of my creative life right now is the partnership Cory and I have built. We collaborate on just about everything—from shaping our live shows to developing original music and long-term projects. Having someone you trust creatively makes all the difference.
One project that has become especially meaningful to us involves a large catalog of handwritten songs left behind by my late father. After he passed, I began finding lyrics and song ideas scattered everywhere—on old papers, notebooks, CDs, and computer files. There were far more than I expected. Cory and I began organizing them and slowly bringing some of those songs back to life. In many ways it feels less like producing music and more like preserving a piece of family history.
At the same time, Cory and I are writing new material together that reflects both of our life experiences and values. One of those songs, “Visiting Hours,” came from lucid dreams where my late mom still visits me from time to time. Those moments stayed with me, and turning them into a song became a way of capturing that feeling that the people we love never really leave us.
This year is also an exciting milestone for the band because we’re beginning to release original music. We’re launching a series of four outlaw-country singles that reflect the gritty, honky-tonk sound we’ve been building on stage over the last few years.
The first single, “The Great Escape,” releases on March 20. It will be followed by “Only Time Will Tell” on May 1, “You Still Drive Me Crazy” on June 5, and “Visiting Hours” on July 10. Each of these songs pulls from different influences and life experiences, and we’re excited to finally start sharing that side of the band with our audience.
We’re also looking forward to performing some of these originals live throughout the year, including a special July 4th appearance at the beautiful Four Seasons Resort Beaumont.
For us, the live show has always been the heart of what we do. Bringing new music directly to the people who have supported us along the way makes the whole process even more meaningful. At this stage of my life, music isn’t about chasing anything. It’s about creating something that lasts.
Along with releasing new music, we’re also beginning to expand our performance footprint beyond San Diego County. While Southern California will always be home base, we are starting to take the band into new markets across the Southwest and exploring opportunities for regional touring in the coming year.
What quality or characteristic do you feel is most important to your success?
Consistency.
Southern California is full of incredibly talented bands. We respect that. We’re not trying to compete with everyone we’re trying to uphold a standard.
Preparation, effort, and heart matter whether we’re playing for five people or a packed house.
Lineups change. Life happens. When that happens, we adapt. Cory is an incredible multi-instrumentalist, drums, bass, lead guitar and we’ve shifted positions and reworked set lists to maintain the level we expect.
Consistency isn’t about identical circumstances. It’s about clear standards and the willingness to meet them.
Another part of that consistency is community. If another band needs a drummer, a singer, or equipment because life threw them a curveball, and we’re available, we help. In this scene, we look out for each other.
That mindset has carried us further than anything else.
Pricing:
- Local private events typically range from $1,000 to $3,000 depending on duration, lineup, and production needs
- Regional events within a 2.5-hour travel radius generally range from $2,500 to $5,000 based on scope and logistics
- We offer multiple configurations, including trio and full-band formats, to accommodate venue size and budget
- Production support (sound, lighting, and backline) can be bundled or scaled depending on the event
- We regularly work with community organizations and adjust pricing to support veteran and nonprofit causes For the most accurate quote, we encourage readers to contact us directly to discuss their specific event needs.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://www.leftymartincountry.com/
- Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/leftymartincountry/
- Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/LeftyMartinCountry/
- Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@leftymartincountry
- Soundcloud: https://soundcloud.com/leftymartincountry
- Other: https://music.apple.com/us/artist/lefty-martin-his-right-hand-band/1878549611
Image Credits
Lacy Kramer
Tim Connelly
Doty Shots
Alex Tapia
