I come by my love of music extremely honestly. My dad had John Prine tapes in the dash of his Volvo and was consistently singing one silly folk song or another about some nonsense. My mom had me jammin’ to Tracy Chapman before my feet could touch the floor boards from my car seat and I would “run run run run run run run run run” my little legs as fast as I could with Tracy every time that song came on. In present day 2015 my dad just attended the Trans Pecos music festival just outside of Marfa and my mom is the biggest Willie Nelson fan around.
My parents did a lot for my little free spirit, rock-n-roll, gypsy soul, and I am eternally grateful for that, but I think my real love for live music was birthed the minute the Blockbuster video asked me to be kind and rewind Almost Famous. I wanted to be William Miller. Without a doubt in my mind writing for Rolling Stone magazine was in my future. He was young, he was naive, but full of drive for the one and only thing he truly loved, the music.
Conversely, I also wanted to be Penny Lane. Penny was wild and carefree and most of all she was dedicated to the music and the band. She was uncalculated and unabashedly herself. Both William and Penny sacrificed everything to become a part of The Scene that fueled their desires and the fire that only moving music can burn in your belly.
Of course Rolling Stone later changed from its larger format to the bullshit mainstream boring rag it is now and I would never go on to write for the publication, but in the hour and a half that I’ve watched Almost Famous half a hundred times I am always right back there ready to become William Miller and Penny Lane. A rebel with one cause on two totally different ends of the spectrum and that cause is three chords and a melody; music.