Ruby Joyful: The Pie Chart of Love

Some bands begin with ambition. Ruby Joyful began with love.

Dan Rubinoff had played in small local bands most of his life, but he says, "I never wrote a good song until I was 50 years old. Joyce and I met eight and a half years ago. It opened up the creative pathways and all of a sudden I was writing good music." That spark led to more than just a few songs. It led to a new life.

Ruby Joyful, the band Dan co-founded with partner and bassist Joice Moore, came together in Paonia, Colorado. Their relationship quickly evolved into a creative partnership. “We fell in love immediately. We are still in love, like crazy. Every day is like a honeymoon for us. It never changes.”

Joice had never played music before, but Dan, a longtime musician, encouraged her. “We got her to play the bass, which is what all good boyfriends do,” he laughs.

Ruby Joyful played local gigs—what they affectionately called "wheelbarrow shows" at the neighborhood brewery, because they literally wheeled their equipment over. “We didn’t have a name ‘cause we kept switching people all the time,” Dan says. “This guy had just come back from hiking a mountain over in Crested Butte called Oh Be Joyful. He said, ‘You’re Rubin, ’ & she’s Joice, so let’s call you Ruby Joyful.’ It was just totally quick, and the name has stuck ever since.”

But the hobby turned into something more when Dan invited longtime friend Drew Emmitt to sit in on a show for Colorado congressional candidate Adam Frisch. Emmitt agreed, and that evening changed their fate. “We had dinner with Drew after the show, and I told him about the recording experience. I was like, man, it’s fun, but it just doesn’t sound good. Nobody’s gonna think it sounds good. And I said, 'Hey, would you consider playing a couple of licks on it?' And he looked up and said, 'Sure, absolutely.'”

Drew opened the floodgates. He helped connect Dan to Nashville engineer Mark Mirro, who had just taken over Snowmass Creek Studios, initially built by Glenn Frey. Before long, Dan and Joice were recording with some incredible talents. “Before we know it, little Joyce and I from little Paonia, Colorado, are in the studio with Drew Emmitt and Andy Thorn on banjo and Eli Emmitt, Drew’s son.”

From there, the project snowballed. Stewart Duncan joined the recording in Nashville. “I paid him to do two tracks. And while we were in the studio with the engineers, we all looked at each other, we’re like, we gotta keep him going. So he ended up doing six tracks.”

Dan called up Rob Ickes to join a short tour. “I said, ‘I know you don’t know me or anything, but I’m playing a few shows in Colorado with Drew and Andy, would you consider it?’ And he said, Yes. And my heart just dropped.”

The record title, The Pie Chart of Love, is inspired by a piece of pop art Dan created that still hangs in their home. “I started doing big canvases that connected love with seventh-grade math principles. So, I did the pie chart of love, the Venn diagram of love, and the line graph of love…”

Every song is rooted in their love. “Everything about the album is basically about our love. It just is. It’s what it is. Every show we’ve done, every song, it’s what we do. And to play with her is a dream for me, honestly.”

Despite its success—radio airplay, folk chart rankings, and a publicist campaign—Dan and Joice didn’t want to dive into the industry. “We’re not music business people. We didn’t do the internet-savvy thing. I’m not interested in winning an internet popularity contest.”

Instead, they found a calling that felt more purposeful. “We literally get in the van and tour around the west, just playing at children's hospitals,” Dan says. “It has completely won our hearts over from everything else.”

Their first experience in that realm of performance came in Greece in 2018, playing for children with terminal illnesses. It deepened after Dan played music for his mother, who had advanced Alzheimer’s. Later, at Denver Children’s Hospital, their experimental visit changed everything. “One hour with kids hooked up to infusion machines would blow the doors off of any sold-out performance we’d ever be doing.”

The songwriting never really stops. Even while biking in Alaska, Dan is writing for a program called Song Story, where musicians compose from stories written by terminally ill children. “That’s my one assignment on this trip—to write a song… I’m actually supposed to record it before I get home.”

When asked about favorite tracks, Dan points to “All My Friends Got More Money Than Me.” “It was so sweet and so production-wise… I can’t even believe that’s my song,” he says. He also highlights ‘The Same Day,’ a tribute to their devotion. “We decided a long time ago that if we ever died, we’d have to die on the same day because neither of us could stand living one day without each other.”

As for the future of Ruby Joyful?

“We made it, we did it. It’s beautiful. And I think if it comes again, sure. But the stress of keeping a band together, paying everybody and keeping everybody working… eh. I think we’re enjoying life too much.”