Category Archives: Creative nonfiction music journalism
“If you don’t want to be seen you don’t have to hide If you don’t want to believe you don’t have to try to feel alive” – Superunknown “I woke the same as any other day except a voice was … Continue reading
Like Guy Clark, one of Austin’s finest, or the legendary Townes Van Zandt, Devine bleeds his heart out in his songs. You believe him.
But you don’t have to take my word for it. Listen to “I’ll Leave Anything Behind But You” or “Change Me.” “You can change your own picture/of the person you want to be/Change the face in the mirror/But you can’t change me.” Continue reading
Adessa’s mature sound is original, especially for the Central Montana area, as the music veers away from country and classic rock, instead taking more of a jazz, soul, blues and hip-hop route. Her deep, smooth voice is soothing and her melodies and progressions welcome her most impressive vocal talents. With grace and coolness, she makes performing appear effortless. Continue reading
Whether a Prince fan or not, I’d say it’s hard to be a musician and not at least be a Prince appreciator. And if you haven’t given him a try, take a listen to “Purple Rain,” and let it guide you. As I listen to it now, I hope he’s in a place that looks and feels as majestic as the song sounds. Continue reading
People ask, “What could have saved Scott Weiland?”
Grace would have saved him, just as it would have saved Jimi, Janis, Jim, Kurt, Layne and all the other stars who have fallen well before their time.
Jimi Hendrix once said, “When the power of love overcomes the love of power, then there will be peace.” For Scott, it appears love was more a lyric than an action he practiced. And without love, what’s left of a man? Continue reading
Chad and I didn’t really know what a typical Friday night was like on the Ball State campus. We didn’t go here. He was still living at home, I went to a private Christian college 40 miles north, the next exit after James Dean’s hometown of Fairmount. Ball State was my escape. It was Chad’s, too, or perhaps it was just our way of going backwards, of not propelling toward our future: a place of debauchery and bad decisions, an endless party.
We were young, free and wild, and – best of all – we were visitors. Continue reading
“He wanted to lift us up, but it was clear in his words; it was clear in his tone and his energy that he was saddened by what he’s seeing in our country. It wasn’t like hearing “Imagine” in the gym, although that feeling would have come back ten fold if it was the fall of 2001.” Continue reading