For all the naysayers, rock-n-roll is alive and kicking — especially in the hands of Rich Robinson.

Guitarist and founding member of The Black Crowes, he has circled the globe for the last 25 years, spreading the mighty word of six-strings gone electric. With the Crowes representing the musical crossroads of Led Zeppelin, The Allman Brothers and The Band, Robinson is a beacon of light in a modern music industry, where real musicians seem to fall by the wayside in favor of pop idols and instant gratification from a guy onstage hitting buttons on a laptop.

There’s no place like home. Amid my first few weeks living in Western North Carolina, there were times I got homesick. Though I have bounced around the country for many years now, I, too, have moments where I start to miss things familiar to me.

It’s the soundtrack of my life. Growing up in the Champlain Valley (Upstate New York/Vermont), the music of my native land echoed through the albums of moe. They are North Country boys, whose central blend of rock, jam, funk and jazz coagulated into a unique tone. It’s a seed planted in your head that grows and blossoms with you, becoming a beautiful vine of melodies wrapping around your flourishing soul.

Screw it all.

There have been days, many days, where I’ve found myself sitting in traffic, standing in line, waiting on the phone, ordering something I really don’t want (or need), drinking and eating something that probably isn’t good for me, and think to myself, “Screw it all, I don’t want any part of this — no more.”

Marc Pruett has won a Grammy and played the Grand Ole Opry stage, but his biggest concern on this day is sinkholes.

“Where is it? Canton?,” he asked a coworker. 

Director of erosion control for Haywood County, Pruett sits at his desk, which is covered in paper, maps and books. After a heavy midday rain, two sinkholes have emerged in downtown Canton. Pruett puts a plan into motion, workers head for the door. 

It’s a sound that immediately turns your head.

Sitting at a table within the 5 Walnut Wine Bar in downtown Asheville one lazy, sunny Appalachian afternoon, a trio of musicians took to the floor and eased into the subtle ambiance of the cozy space.

Time sure does fly, eh? It hit me this week that my column recently crossed over the one-year anniversary threshold. How crazy, huh?

Waylon Jennings is alive.

Figuratively. Not literally, folks. Strolling down Haywood Road in West Asheville one evening last summer, I came across the Double Crown, a dive bar of the most enjoyable proportions. And I love dive bars, places where I feel as welcomed as the beer is cold. 

It all started with a drum solo.

“My mother was of the big band generation, and she’d watch all of these movies when I was a kid with big bands in them,” said Michael Reno Harrell. “I remember seeing Gene Krupa do a drum solo and I decided that’s what I wanted to do.”

Standing atop the 5,000-foot Cataloochee Ranch mountain retreat in Maggie Valley, the vastness and endless beauty of Western North Carolina stretches out before your eyes. Heading towards the main building, you reach for the doorknob and enter eagerly. Soon, your body, mind and soul are soaked by the sounds of friends, strangers and old-time string music.