It’s all about what you’re willing to sacrifice.
Within the realm of melodic creativity, one word emerges — collaboration.
It’s the act of bringing resources together, whether it is lyrics, chords or simply the energy of one’s soul that inspires another. And what comes to fruition is a fusing of curiosity, passion and art. Collaboration lies at the foundation of all great music, where those close to you, from friends to fellow musicians, producers to those at the heart of the matter, each contribute to the evolution of the creative being.
The beauty of bluegrass lies in its transparency.
Whether you’re having a good or bad day, those emotions will filter through your voice and fingertips. You can’t hide behind the music — you are vulnerable to the listener, to yourself, and to the cosmos above. It’s a rare and beautiful thing to come across such honesty, pure intent and genuine face-to-face interaction that the music conjures in a modern, fast-paced world.
Anyone who knows me well will tell you that I am a complete nut about music. There are people for whom music serves as a kind of soundtrack for their lives, so that certain bands and songs function as memory jukeboxes, instantly evoking specific times, places, and people whenever they come on, regardless of the circumstances.
Tribute shows are an enigma of the musical world: two parts nostalgia, one part entertainment and a pinch of talent for good measure.
“Our goal is to hopefully have people in the audience watch the show and just lose track of what is reality and what is an illusion,” said Kurt Brown, a Vegas-based producer of several musical artist tribute shows.
For 45 years, The Allman Brothers Band took rock-n-roll and stretched it into the unlimited possibilities of blues and jazz. They were an empty canvas of melodic influences that encompassed broad, rich paint strokes of English hard rock pioneers Cream, jazz improvisation maestro John Coltrane, and Chicago blues master Muddy Waters.
When I was a little girl, I had a stuttering problem. The memories of struggling with words that started with “S” or “N” are vivid in my mind. Sometimes I would try to come up with ways to completely avoid saying anything that started with those letters.
One of the true beauties of living in the mountains of Western North Carolina is the sheer fact that you can’t throw a rock in any direction without hitting someone who is a picker and a grinner.
They say clarity is found when it becomes your last option.
I remember that guy.