I started writing lyrics at fifteen years old.

Over time, those lyrics became more than songs, they became stories. With over 100 songs written, The Double Image Projeté emerged as a vision that brings music and storytelling together.

At its core, this is a fictional story about friendship, love, loss, loneliness, self-doubt, and happiness. It follows the journey of a songwriter discovering who he is through the music he creates, and the people who shape his life along the way.

What you’ll find here is a short story inspired by those songs, and a glimpse into a larger vision that could become a book, Audible Book… or even a film.

This is just the beginning.

— Martin J. McDermott, DBA

The Double Image Projeté.

Book read by Jon at elevenlabs.io

Photos created by ChatGPT and Gemini

Written by Martin J. McDermott, DBA

It was a warm Friday night.

Joe stood across the street from Murphy’s Tavern, listening. Inside, a tribute band was playing Perpetually Gray, a song he had written more than a decade ago with his band, The Double Image Projeté.

He never imagined other musicians would one day be performing his music.

Murphy’s Tavern wasn’t a big venue, maybe a thousand people at most, but tonight it sounded like an arena. Through the window he could see the crowd jumping, singing, completely lost in the moment.

A tear slipped down his cheek.

For a second he forgot the years of self-doubt, the long nights, and the dark days when his family first moved to France and everything felt uncertain. Somehow those moments had led here.

Joe checked his watch. He was scheduled to go inside soon, but he decided to wait a little longer, just twenty minutes to stand there and take it all in.

Then he saw her.

Jessica.

She was walking down the street toward the tavern.

Seven years had passed since he had last seen her, yet he recognized her instantly. She must have been there for the show.

As if she felt his eyes on her, she glanced across the street.

Their eyes met.

Jessica smiled and lifted her hand in a small wave before crossing toward him.

When she reached him, neither of them spoke at first. She simply wrapped her arms around him.

Finally, she pulled back slightly and said,

“Do you remember? This is where we met…twenty-five years ago.”

France surprisingly had a vibrant hard rock scene during the 1990s and 2000s, though much of it remained a "best-kept secret" due to the language barrier and a lack of international promotion. 

While many of these bands didn't achieve the global superstardom of British or American acts, only one band developed a massive following that persists today. The Double Image Projeté.

In the early 1990s, Joe moved to Paris, France with his parents from California. As an introvert, adjusting to life in a foreign country was anything but easy.

At just 13 years old, his life took a painful turn.

One late afternoon, Joe was attacked and beaten by a group of classmates. Although he had endured bullying since arriving in France, it had never been this severe.

Shaken and alone, he tried to gather himself, until Jessica, a classmate he barely knew, stepped in.

She comforted him and guided him across the street from Murphy’s Tavern.

Inside, Mr. Murphy, the owner, quickly took control of the situation. He handed Joe a bag of ice for his bruises and offered both Joe and Jessica a ginger ale. More than that, he gave Joe something he hadn’t felt in a long time, a sense of safety.

In that moment, something shifted.

What began as a painful day became a turning point. Jessica and Mr. Murphy would go on to become influences in Joe’s life.

Years later, Murphy’s Tavern and his relationship with Jessica would serve as the emotional foundation for dozens of songs featured on the first four albums by The Double Image Projeté.

Joe and Jessica quickly became inseparable. Before long, they both found themselves working at Murphy’s Tavern, a lively Irish pub known for its music and sense of community.

Every Friday and Saturday night, the tavern came alive with local performers. It was here that Joe was introduced to a wide range of music. Mr. Murphy played him artists like Bob Dylan and Roy Orbison, while Jessica shared her love for Bruce Springsteen, U2, and harder-edged rock bands.

Immersed in this environment, Joe’s passion for music began to take hold.

He picked up an acoustic guitar and, almost instantly, discovered a gift for songwriting. What started as an escape quickly became an obsession. By the age of 18, Joe had written more than 50 complete songs.

Murphy’s Tavern became more than a workplace, it became the foundation of his future.

It was there that Joe met three musicians, Tommy, Glenn, and Bobby, who were searching for a singer-songwriter. That meeting would change everything. Together, they would form a bond that went beyond music, becoming not just bandmates, but brothers.

Joe, Tommy, Bobby, and Glenn spent the next several years honing their sound, rehearsing relentlessly and playing every local venue that would have them. Before long, they became a regular act at Murphy’s Tavern, consistently drawing packed crowds.

From the beginning, the band made a deliberate choice: they would focus on original music. Covers might fill a room, but their songs told a story, their story.

Mr. Murphy, who had become a father figure to Joe, believed in them early. He stepped in to help finance their first demo recordings, giving the band a chance to capture their sound beyond the walls of the tavern.

It wasn’t long before record labels began to take notice.

But there was a problem.

Most of the offers were one-sided, deals that would give the band exposure, but at the cost of control. Mr. Murphy urged patience.

“If you sign the wrong deal,” he warned, “you won’t own your music, you’ll just rent it.”

Instead of settling, Mr. Murphy proposed something bold:

a live showcase at Murphy’s Tavern, inviting multiple record labels to see the band on their terms.

The night of the showcase changed everything.

Among those in attendance were A&R representatives Adrian Erté and Julian Arman. The very next day, they met with the band and Mr. Murphy inside Murphy’s Tavern.

They saw what others had missed.

The band was tight, locked in with a natural chemistry that couldn’t be manufactured. Their sound was difficult to define, blending rock, hard rock, commercial appeal, country influences, and even elements of spiritual depth. They weren’t easy to label, and that was exactly the point.

More importantly, they already had the material.

With over thirty original songs ready to go, the band wasn’t just promising, they were prepared.

This time, the deal was different.

Fair. Balanced. Built for the long term.

The agreement called for four albums over ten years; three studio records and one live release.

For the first time, it felt real.

The Double Image Projeté was no longer just a local act.

They were on their way.

Over the next two years, the band’s world expanded rapidly with the release of their first album, "Comment Allez-Vous".

They toured relentlessly, opening for established acts in the rock and hard rock scene, while filling in the gaps with performances at smaller venues across Europe, Asia, Australia, and North America. Night after night, the crowds grew larger, the music louder, and the momentum undeniable.

From the outside, everything looked like success.

But the road came at a cost.

The constant travel and distance began to strain Joe’s relationship with Jessica. While Joe’s life was accelerating, Jessica’s dreams were pulling her in a different direction. She had always envisioned attending medical school in the United States, a goal that required stability, focus, and a life far removed from tour buses and late-night shows.

The difference in their paths became impossible to ignore.

When the breakup finally came, it wasn’t driven by anger, but by reality. That made it even harder. They weren’t just losing a relationship, they were losing a friendship that had shaped both of their lives.

Joe carried that loss with him on the road.

In between shows, he spent long hours alone, reading, reflecting, and writing. The music began to change. It became more personal, more honest.

Out of that pain came some of his most powerful work.

Songs like “Do You Think of Me” and "It's Just Raining in Paris" would go on to define the band’s second album, resonating deeply with audiences and eventually reaching number one in both the United States, Asia, and Europe.

Back at home, Joe would learn his dear friend Mr. Murphy was diagnosed with Parkinson's Disease. This would take a toll on Mr. Murphy's business. Joe missed him dearly and wanted to be there for his friend.  This led to another popular song on the follow-up album called "Hang Around with You". 

At the same time, the band’s debut album, Comment Allez-Vous, continued to gain momentum. It earned critical acclaim, including a “Best New Band” award, a Grammy nomination for “Where’s the Next Dylan”, a top ten song in the Christian Rock category called "True Love" and record sales surpassing 3.5 million copies, a remarkable achievement for a new group.

The band was rising fast.

But for Joe, success had become intertwined with something else entirely.

Loss.

Everyone was proud of the success of the first album, but Joe and the band felt they had only scratched the surface.

During the tour, Joe spent long hours reading between shows. One quote stayed with him, from Toni Morrison:

“If there’s a book that you want to read, but it hasn’t been written yet, then you must write it.”

The words lingered.

Joe wrote them down, staring at them for a long time before slowly reworking the idea in his own way. The next day, he shared it with the band:

“If there’s an album you want to hear, but it doesn’t exist yet, then you have to create it.”

It wasn’t just a quote anymore. It became their mission.

They weren’t chasing success; they were chasing something original.

By the end of the tour, the band had written more than thirty songs for the next album.

This time, everything was different.

They had access to world-class studios, top-tier engineers, and producers who were eager to work with them. One of the industry’s most respected producers pushed hard to be part of the project after hearing early demos, convinced the band was on the verge of something special.

The label matched that belief, investing heavily in promotion like billboards, media campaigns, and a full-scale rollout.

The result was It’s Just Raining in Paris.

Within weeks of its release, the album climbed into the Top 10 on the Billboard charts. The band had taken a leap, and the audience followed.

Even with experienced management, they continued to turn to Mr. Murphy for guidance. His advice was simple, but strategic:

Start small. Let the music breathe. Let people discover it.

Open first, then come back as headliners. Moreover, record a dozen shows, which can be used for a live album. 

They trusted him.

Over the next two years, that approach would change everything.

Sound & Stone Cover Story

THE DOUBLE IMAGE PROJETÉ
How a band from a Paris pub redefined rock—and why they’re just getting started

By Daniel Mercer

On a rainy Thursday night in Paris, Murphy’s Tavern still hums with the kind of energy that can’t be manufactured.

It’s the kind of place where stories begin.

Long before sold-out arenas and platinum records, this was home base for The Double Image Projeté, a band now gracing the cover of Sound & Stone, but once just four musicians trying to be heard over the noise of a crowded bar.

“Everything started here,” says frontman Joe, glancing around the dimly lit room during a break in our interview. “Not just the band… everything.”

He’s quieter than you might expect from someone whose voice now fills stadiums. Thoughtful. Measured. The kind of person who chooses his words carefully, like lyrics.

FROM OBSCURITY TO ORIGINALITY 

The band’s rise has been anything but typical.

While many groups chase trends, The Double Image Projeté built their identity on something else entirely: originality.

Joe credits that shift to a moment during their first major tour.

“I was reading a lot back then,” he says. “Trying to make sense of everything happening so fast.”

One quote, in particular, stayed with him, something he came across from Toni Morrison:

“If there’s a book that you want to read, but it hasn’t been written yet, then you must write it.”

Joe pauses, then smiles slightly.

“I remember thinking… that’s it. That’s exactly it. But for us, it wasn’t a book.”

The next day, he brought the idea to the band.

“I told them, if there’s an album we want to hear, and it doesn’t exist… then we have to create it.”

It became more than a philosophy. It became a mission.

THE SOUND THAT SHOULDN’T WORK, BUT DOES

Trying to define the band’s sound is an exercise in futility.

There are elements of rock, hard rock, and something softer, almost spiritual, woven into their music. One moment feels raw and unfiltered, the next introspective and melodic.

“It’s not intentional,” says Tommy, the band’s lead guitarist. “We’re not sitting there saying, ‘let’s blend genres.’ It’s just… what comes out.”

Bobby, the bassist, leans forward, nodding. “We all come from different places musically. That’s the point. It’s supposed to be a little unpredictable.”

From behind the kit, Glenn, the drummer, offers a slight grin. “Yeah… good luck labeling us.”

That unpredictability is exactly what drew industry attention early on—and what continues to set them apart.

PAIN, PROCESS, AND IT’S JUST RAINING IN PARIS

Their second album, It’s Just Raining in Paris, didn’t just meet expectations, it shattered them.

Debuting in the Top 10 within weeks, the record is widely considered a turning point for the band. But behind its success lies something more personal.

Much of the album was written on the road, during a period of emotional upheaval for Joe.

“You can hear it if you listen closely,” he says. “There’s a different honesty there.”

Tracks like “Do You Think of Me” and "The Man In The Mirror Is Not Me" carry a weight that feels lived-in, not manufactured, something both critics and fans have responded to.

“It’s the first time I stopped trying to write songs people would like,” Joe admits. “I just wrote what was true.”

THE MURPHY FACTOR

Despite their rapid ascent, one constant remains: Mr. Murphy.

Part mentor, part businessman, part father figure, his influence on the band is impossible to ignore.

“They’d have signed a terrible deal without him,” says an industry insider.

Joe doesn’t hesitate to agree.

“He taught us patience,” he says. “Taught us to wait for the right opportunity, not just the first one.”

Murphy’s advice, to start small, let the music grow organically, and build toward headlining—proved to be a defining strategy.

“It wasn’t about getting big fast,” Joe says. “It was about getting it right.”

WHAT COMES NEXT

For a band that has already achieved what many never do, the question naturally becomes: what’s next? A live album is set for realease early next year and we already have some demos for the next album. 

Joe leans back, thinking for a moment.

“I don’t think we’re chasing success anymore,” he says. “We’re chasing something else.”

“What’s that?” I ask.

He smiles.

“The album we haven’t heard yet.”

Back at Murphy’s Tavern, the lights dim as a local band takes the stage. For a moment, it’s easy to imagine four younger versions of The Double Image Projeté standing in that same spot—unknown, unproven, and just beginning.

Somewhere between then and now, everything changed.

And somehow… nothing did.

A live album was a risk, especially as a third release.

But for the band, it felt right.

After years of relentless touring and two successful studio albums, they saw it as an opportunity to pause, reflect, and capture something raw. It would also give them the space they needed to begin work on their next studio record.

The band chose to record the album in Paris, not in a small venue, but in a packed outdoor stadium.

It was the same city where it all began, but everything else had changed.

Tens of thousands of fans. Lights stretching into the night sky. Songs that once lived in a pub are now echoing across an entire city.

And yet, somehow, it still felt familiar.

This wouldn’t be a polished production.

It would be real.

Songs would evolve in the moment. Arrangements would shift. And if mistakes happened, they would stay.

Too many live albums, in their view, were overproduced—cleaned up until they lost what made them live in the first place.

This one would be different.

It would be honest. They were correct. The live album hit multi-platinum. 

Back at home, reality was beginning to shift.

Mr. Murphy’s health was declining.

One afternoon, he sat down with Joe and said what Joe had been quietly fearing.

It was time to sell the tavern.

The disease was progressing, and he could no longer keep up with the demands of running it.

For Joe, the words landed hard.

Murphy’s Tavern wasn’t just a business; it was the foundation of everything. It was where he found music, friendship, and direction.

Losing it wasn’t an option.

So, the band decided.

They wouldn’t let it go.

Together, they approached Mr. Murphy with an idea: they would become partners. They would invest in the tavern, keep it alive, and ensure that the place that started it all would continue.

They made a significant financial commitment and, just as importantly, elevated the people who had been there, all along, promoting long-time employees who had helped build Murphy’s into what it was.

It wasn’t just a business decision.

It was a promise.

Murphy’s Tavern would endure.

It was a warm Friday night.

Joe stood across the street from Murphy’s Tavern, listening. Inside, a tribute band was playing Perpetually Gray, a song he had written more than a decade ago with his band, The Double Image Projeté.

He never imagined other musicians would one day be performing his music.

Murphy’s Tavern wasn’t a big venue, maybe a thousand people at most, but tonight it sounded like an arena. Through the window he could see the crowd jumping, singing, completely lost in the moment.

A tear slipped down his cheek.

For a second he forgot the years of self-doubt, the long nights, and the dark days when his family first moved to France and everything felt uncertain. Somehow those moments had led here.

Joe checked his watch. He was scheduled to go inside soon, but he decided to wait a little longer, just twenty minutes to stand there and take it all in.

Then he saw her.

Jessica.

She was walking down the street toward the tavern.

Seven years had passed since he had last seen her, yet he recognized her instantly. She must have been there for the show.

As if she felt his eyes on her, she glanced across the street.

Their eyes met.

Jessica smiled and lifted her hand in a small wave before crossing toward him.

When she reached him, neither of them spoke at first. She simply wrapped her arms around him.

Finally, she pulled back slightly and said,

“Do you remember? This is where we met…twenty-five years ago.”

Jessica asked Joe if he wanted to get coffee after the show.

He smiled and nodded, no hesitation this time.

They slipped into Murphy’s Tavern through the back entrance. The band was already midway through their set. At one point, they pulled Joe onstage.

He played four songs.

Songs that had once been written in quiet moments now filled the room again. Only this time, he wasn’t the unknown kid in the corner, he was the one they had come to hear.

From the side of the stage, he saw Jessica.

She was singing every word.

Not just along with the crowd, but with him. Like she always had.

After the show, they found a small café still open.

They talked for hours.

About everything.

About nothing.

About the years they had missed.

Time moved differently that night.

The next morning, Jessica had an idea.

“Let’s go see Mr. Murphy.”

Joe didn’t hesitate.

They drove out to his new home, the one Joe and the band had helped make possible. It was quieter there. Slower. Peaceful.

When Mr. Murphy opened the door, his face lit up instantly.

He didn’t ask questions.

He already knew.

“I prayed you two would find your way back,” he said softly. “Thank God.”

He reached for their hands, one in each, and held them tightly before pulling them both into an embrace.