Dario Cohen is a tenacious veteran of the rock ’n’ roll landscape whose career spans from the punk-era stages of New York City to the modern frontiers of music licensing. After famously trading a potential path at Harvard Law for the call of the muse, Dario Cohen cut his teeth alongside icons like Peter Green and Mississippi Fred McDowell before co-founding the Boston glam-rock trailblazers Johanna Wild and joining the legendary punk pioneers The Dictators. His journey eventually led him to the Midwest, where he fronted the roadhouse phenomenon The Delta Kings for 17 years and over 2,000 shows. Today, based in Chicago, Cohen has successfully pivoted into the world of sync and licensing, with his music featured on platforms ranging from NASCAR and Discovery Channel to Keeping Up with the Kardashians. Following the critical success of his gritty, guitar-fueled LP, Woodpecker Crisis and the intimate Songs for Damaged Hearts, Dario Cohen is currently embracing a creative reinvention. With his latest single, “Peace In Our Time,” out now and new recording projects in the works, he continues to prove that his musical story is still very much being written.
With “Peace In Our Time” out now, we took some time to hear from Dario Cohen. Read below to learn more about Dario Cohen, the story behind “Peace In Our Time,” and what’s to come.
Hi Dario Cohen! Let’s start with how did you get your artist name?
It was actually a move of necessity and reinvention. For most of my career, I was performing under my given name, Cody Lee. But when I signed with my new manager, Kent Anderson, we ran into a very modern problem: there are a lot of “Cody Lees” out there in the digital ether. If you’re a fan looking for my music, you don’t want to sift through twenty other guys to find the one who played with The Dictators or lived with Peter Green.
Kent looked at the landscape and realized that while the world has plenty of Cody Lees, there was only one Dario Cohen. We chose the name to stand out—it’s distinctive, it’s memorable, and it represents this new chapter of my life. It marks the shift from the roadhouse days of the Delta Kings to the sophisticated licensing and recording work I’m doing now. It’s a fresh start for a story that’s been decades in the making.
What city are you from, and where are you based now?
I was raised on Manhattan’s Upper East Side, which is where my musical journey really began—from the Apollo Theater to the punk scene in the Village. After years of touring and a long chapter in Champaign, Illinois, where I fronted The Delta Kings and ran Periscope Records, I eventually felt the pull back to a major city.
Today, I am proud to be based in Chicago. There’s something about the energy here—even just the smell of the sidewalk steam in the rain—that makes me feel like I’m finally home. It’s been the perfect place to build a new circuit, record my latest projects like The Love Songs of Dario Cohen, and connect with the incredible musicians that make up this city’s scene.
At what point in your life did you decide to pursue a career in music? How did you get started?
My decision to pursue music was sparked by a seismic shift that many of my generation experienced: watching the Beatles perform on The Ed Sullivan Show. That single moment changed my life’s trajectory. I walked away from a potential path at Harvard Law and never looked back.
I got my start by following the muse instead of the white-collar career laid out for me. My childhood was a mix of Manhattan privilege and street smarts, including early trips to the Apollo Theater to see Jackie Wilson. I eventually left college to live with Peter Green in England and worked as a roadie for the Afro-rock pioneers Osibisa. Those early, raw experiences—from the London scene to traveling with Delta bluesman Mississippi Fred McDowell—formed the foundation of everything I’ve done since.
How would you describe your sound to readers who may not be familiar with you?
If I had to pin it down, I’d describe my sound as gritty, guitar-fueled truth. It’s a blend that carries the DNA of the New York punk scene and the raw, one-chord lessons that I learned from the Delta blues, but polished with a bit of Chicago soul.
My recent work, like the Woodpecker Crisis LP, is a punchy, high-energy rock sound, while The Love Songs of Dario Cohen shows a more jazzy, vulnerable side. I like to think of my music as “cinematic rock”—there’s a reason it works so well for film and TV licensing. Whether it’s a stripped-down acoustic ballad or a full-throttle anthem, it’s always built on honest storytelling and the “magic of song” that I’ve spent my whole life chasing.
Do you have any hobbies outside of music? What do you do to stay creative?
To be honest, music has been my primary language for so long that my hobbies usually revolve around the things that feed the songs. I’ve always been a bit of a culture junkie—I love exploring the history of the places I’ve lived, whether it’s the street smarts of Manhattan’s Forsyth Street or the hidden gems of Chicago’s neighborhood circuits.
To stay creative, I’ve learned that I have to pivot and find new frontiers. When the traditional touring landscape felt bleak, I didn’t stop; I pivoted into the world of music licensing. That forced me to think about my songs in a visual, cinematic way, which was a huge creative boost. I also find that collaboration is my biggest spark. Working with people like my producer Kurt Eger or my longtime engineer Fred Breitberg keeps me sharp. Sometimes staying creative is just about “popping the question” to another artist and seeing where a new partnership can take the music. It’s about keeping the story moving so the ink never has time to dry.
What is your “fuel”—the one thing outside of music that you cannot live without?
It has to be a perfect cup of black coffee and a Chicago morning. There is a specific energy in this city—that “whiff of sidewalk steam in the rain” I mentioned earlier—that acts as a creative reset for me. I spend a lot of time in my head writing and dreaming up new projects with Fred Breitberg, so that morning ritual of sitting in a local cafe, watching the city wake up, is what grounds me. It reminds me that “living seems so strong” and that there are always new stories waiting to be noticed just outside the door.
Who are some of your main musical influences?
My influences are a mix of the legends that I watched from afar and the masters I was lucky enough to work with. It all starts with The Beatles—that was the lightning bolt. But as I got older, I was drawn to the raw, emotional power of Jackie Wilson, whom I first saw at the Apollo.
Later, my influences became very personal. Living with Peter Green in England taught me about the weight of every note. Traveling with Mississippi Fred McDowell showed me the soul of the one-chord blues. Then there’s the grit of the New York scene—working with The Dictators and touring with The Kinks and Rush gave me a masterclass in stagecraft and stamina. Today, my influences are also my collaborators; people like Brendan Cawley, who helped me “unlock the magic of song,” and my producer Kurt Eger, who helps me translate those decades of influence into a modern, gritty sound.
Who would be a dream to collaborate with?
While I’ve been incredibly lucky to work with legends like Peter Green and Mississippi Fred McDowell, my dream modern collaboration would be with Tom Waits. There is a shared DNA in our appreciation for the “gritty truth” and songs written for “damaged hearts.” I’d love to see what kind of beautiful, clattering chaos we could create together in a studio—maybe something recorded late at night in a rainy Chicago alley. He understands that music doesn’t have to be pretty to be beautiful, and that’s a philosophy I’ve carried with me from Forsyth Street to the Midwest.
What’s one of the proudest moments of your music career so far?
There have been so many—sharing a stage with The Dictators or touring with The Kinks certainly stand out—but I think my proudest moment is actually a recent one. It was seeing my acoustic LP, Songs for Damaged Hearts, hit #17 on the CHIRP Radio charts in Chicago.
After years of “rock poverty,” roadhouse tours, and navigating the industry’s ups and downs, having that record resonate so deeply in my new home city was incredibly validating. It proved that my ‘reinvention’ wasn’t just a pivot; it was a connection. Following that up by working with Kurt Eger to produce Woodpecker Crisis, and now seeing my work move into the Dolby Atmos space, feels like a triumph of persistence. It’s the pride of knowing that even after 2,000 shows, I’m still making the best music of my life and finding a new audience for it.
What would you say are the greatest lessons that you’ve learned so far?
The greatest lesson I’ve learned is that the story is never finished until you stop writing it. I’ve had plenty of moments where the “grind of rock poverty” could have ended things—whether it was the heartbreak of Falcon Eddy or the logistics of touring—but I learned that when one door closes, you pivot. Moving into licensing or embracing a new name like Dario Cohen wasn’t about giving up; it was about resourcefulness.
The second lesson is about authenticity. I spent a long time trying to “do the right thing” by enrolling at Berklee or trying to fit into specific molds, but the magic only really happened when I embraced the “damaged heart” and the grit. Whether I was playing for beer-drinkers in the Midwest or recording jazzy tracks in Chicago, the audience always knows when you’re telling the truth. Finally, I’ve learned the value of collaboration. You can have the talent, but you need people like Kurt Eger or Fred Breitberg to help unlock the magic. You have to stay open to the question, “Will you produce my LP?”—because those partnerships are what keep the music alive.
Now onto your release, “Peace In Our Time.” What inspired this song? What is “Peace In Our Time” about?
The inspiration for “Peace In Our Time” really stems from looking at the world through the lens of someone who has seen the cycles of history repeat themselves. Back in my Vermont days, I saw idealism curdle into rage—I realized then that I wasn’t built for radicalism by bullhorn. But as a songwriter, I am built for the quiet, persistent pursuit of truth.
The song is about the universal longing for a moment of stillness in a world that feels increasingly fractured. It’s not just a political statement; it’s a deeply personal one. It’s about the internal peace we look for after the ‘broken strings and spilled beer’ of a long life on the road. Recording it with Kurt Eger in Tennessee, we wanted to capture that gritty, guitar-fueled honesty but leave the listener with a sense of hope. It’s a reflection on where we’ve been and a prayer for where we’re going—a “punch of truth” for a world that’s had its heart a bit damaged lately.
What was the inspiration behind the cover artwork for “Peace In Our Time?”
The artwork for “Peace In Our Time” was inspired by the idea of finding warmth and light in the middle of a cold, fractured season. We went with a classic peace sign framed by a string of holiday lights, set against a snowy, blue backdrop. To me, it captures that feeling of trying to keep a small flame of hope alive when things feel a bit dark or wintry.
It’s a bit of a nod to my history, too. I’ve spent my life navigating shifts—from the idealism of the ’60s to the “political rage” that I saw in the ’70s, all the way to the “New Depression” of the modern era. The cover reflects the song’s core: it’s not a loud, aggressive demand for peace, but a quiet, glowing reminder that even in the middle of a storm, there’s a place for stillness and connection. It’s a visual representation of that “magic of song” that I’m always trying to unlock.
What was the creative process like when making “Peace In Our Time?”
The creative process for “Peace In Our Time” was a continuation of the incredible synergy I’ve found with multi-instrumentalist and producer Kurt Eger. After our first collaboration felt like magic, I knew I wanted him to produce my work. We recorded the track in Franklin, Tennessee, aiming for that punchy, “gritty truth” that has become the hallmark of our recent sessions.
Once the core of the song was captured, I brought in my long-time engineer and co-conspirator, Fred Breitberg, to handle the mastering. This project actually sits within a very prolific period for us; since the Woodpecker Crisis LP, Freddie and I have collaborated on six additional recording projects, with a seventh currently being written. The process is really about “unlocking the magic” through spiritual and creative bonds—taking all those years of roadhouse experience and distilling them into a crisp, modern sound that still feels honest. It’s a mix of Tennessee production, Chicago grit, and the relentless desire to keep the story moving forward.
How long did it take to complete “Peace In Our Time?”
The timeline for “Peace In Our Time” is really a testament to the creative “flow state” that I’ve been in recently. While the actual tracking with Kurt Eger in Franklin, Tennessee, happened with that immediate, “first-take” magic we’ve developed, the song is part of a much larger, intensive writing and recording period.
Since we finished the Woodpecker Crisis LP, my engineer Fred Breitberg and I have already moved through an additional six recording projects, with a seventh currently in the works. Because of this rhythm, the completion of a single like “Peace In Our Time” feels less like a long, drawn-out process and more like a captured moment of inspiration. We’ve reached a point where we can move from the initial “spiritual and creative bond” of the songwriting to a finished, mastered track quite efficiently because the team just clicks. It’s the result of decades of experience finally meeting the right collaborators at the right time.
What is your favorite lyric in “Peace In Our Time” and why?
There’s a specific couplet in the song that really anchors the whole sentiment for me:
“I just don’t understand this rush / To be so dead and gone / Dying don’t seem like anything / And living seems so strong”
I love these lines because, after a lifetime in this industry—seeing “broken hearts on the highway” and watching peers unravel or give up—I’ve realized that the greatest act of rebellion is simply to keep living and creating. In my earlier years, like during my time at Goddard or the punk days on Forsyth Street, everything felt like it had to be a loud, radical statement. But now, I see that “living seems so strong.”
Choosing to keep going, to find new management, to record seven new projects, and to keep “shining it on” despite the chaos of the world—that’s where the real peace is. It’s a defiant stance. When I sing “Mock me all you want,” I’m speaking to anyone who thinks a veteran artist should just fade away. I’m not interested in being “dead and gone”; I’m interested in the strength of being here, right now, in this new chapter.
What message or messages do you hope fans take away from “Peace In Our Time” and your music in general?
The core message I hope people take away from “Peace In Our Time”—and really my entire body of work—is that it is never too late to reinvent yourself. My journey has taken me from the Ivy League expectations of Manhattan to the punk clubs of NYC, the roadhouses of the Midwest, and finally to the creative pulse of Chicago. Throughout all those “broken hearts on the highway,” the common thread is that I never stopped following the muse.
I want fans to hear that even when the landscape looks bleak—whether it’s the “rock poverty” of the early days or the uncertainty of the pandemic—there is strength in choosing to live and create. As the lyrics say, “living seems so strong.” I hope my music serves as a “punch of gritty, guitar-fueled truth” that encourages people to keep “shining it on” no matter what they are facing. My story is still being written, and I hope my listeners feel empowered to keep writing theirs, too.
What’s next for you? Are you working on any upcoming projects, or do you have any upcoming shows that we should be on the lookout for?
There is so much on the horizon that it feels like the story is just hitting its stride. Right now, I am deeply immersed in the technical and creative challenge of a Dolby Atmos version of my album, The Love Songs of Dario Cohen. It’s a way to bring those jazzy, vulnerable tracks into a whole new immersive dimension for the listeners.
Beyond that, the studio has become a second home. My longtime co-conspirator Fred Breitberg and I have been incredibly prolific; we’ve completed six additional recording projects since our last release, and I’m currently in the middle of writing a seventh. As for live shows, I’m constantly active on the Chicago circuit—keep an eye out for me at staples like Simon’s, Lizard’s Liquid Lounge, and Reggies. While we are currently finalizing the 2026 tour dates to support the new material, the best way to stay updated is through my management or the Periscope Records site. We’re standing on the cusp of a major reinvention, and I can’t wait to share these new “punches of truth” with everyone.
Where can we follow you on social media?
I’d love for everyone to join me on this new chapter. You can find my music, see behind-the-scenes glimpses of my recording sessions with Fred Breitberg, and stay updated on my Chicago show dates through these channels:
Official Website: DarioCohen.com
Instagram: @DarioCohenMusic
Facebook: Dario Cohen Music
Streaming: You can find “Peace In Our Time” and the rest of my catalog on Spotify, Apple Music, and all major digital platforms under Dario Cohen.
I’m also very active on CHIRP Radio here in Chicago, where Songs for Damaged Hearts recently hit the charts, so keep your ears tuned there as well!
Thank you for the great interview; wish you much continued success!
