Death of a blog?
So, when I arrived in Nashville I had these great plans to go to clubs, honkytonks, arenas and anywhere else to listen to live music and tell you all about it.
It seemed like a great idea.
I have been around for some pretty cool stuff. Those early Lady Antebellum shows with me and about four other people. (I know you can't believe that now.) VIP seating from my little buddy (and also VIP seating for his little buddy, Keith Urban's show.) Not to mention countless up-and comers and not-nearly-as-famous-as-Kenny artists, and everyone in between.
I have been to private shows. I have been to sold-out shows at the Titans' stadium. I have seen some girl sing on the CMT showcase stage at the hockey games. And I have spent countless nights on barstools listening to someone, somewhere sing country music.
I have rediscoved all the classics from Hank Williams to Conway Twitty. I listen to Dottie West as much as I listen to Miranda Lambert. I went to every episode of Nashville Star and consider Chris Young to be a friend who always tips his hat at me when he sings "You're Gonna Love Me" and will talk to me about hockey all day long. And now he has a number one hit and gets to shoot videos and everything. It's been fun growing up with him. And Lady A, too, although Charles, Hilary and Dave don't remember me from the Third and Lindsley days.
The thing about sitting on a barstool and listening to good country music is that this is best done with Tennessee Whiskey (the David Allan Coe song OR the drink, probably both). This means I forget a lot of stuff about a lot of the artists I see. Like their names, if you are thinking of Saturday night.
And the thing about developing friendships with artists is that you can't always talk about what you know. You all have to wait for Holly's crappy press releases to know someone's working on a 3D movie. And believe me, her poor writing is so much better than getting a text at 2 a.m. when you have to work at 6. Just saying, that's all.
Because, if you didn't know this, celebrities keep very weird hours and they really don't understand people who have real jobs.
Even though sometime in the last year or so you probably realized this blog was on hiatus, I am making it official. I'm not going to retire yet, because there are some discussions of me being a real, live, honest-to-goodness musical pr-type at some point, and it could be helpful then. But I'm not going to make any promises about concert/awards show/CD reviews that probably just aren't going to happen. Hell, I haven't even bought a CD in months. I can't even remember the last one I bought. Maybe Keith Urban? Maybe.
If I change my mind, I will let people know. But until then, crank up the Hank and dance like no one's watching.
It seemed like a great idea.
I have been around for some pretty cool stuff. Those early Lady Antebellum shows with me and about four other people. (I know you can't believe that now.) VIP seating from my little buddy (and also VIP seating for his little buddy, Keith Urban's show.) Not to mention countless up-and comers and not-nearly-as-famous-as-Kenny artists, and everyone in between.
I have been to private shows. I have been to sold-out shows at the Titans' stadium. I have seen some girl sing on the CMT showcase stage at the hockey games. And I have spent countless nights on barstools listening to someone, somewhere sing country music.
I have rediscoved all the classics from Hank Williams to Conway Twitty. I listen to Dottie West as much as I listen to Miranda Lambert. I went to every episode of Nashville Star and consider Chris Young to be a friend who always tips his hat at me when he sings "You're Gonna Love Me" and will talk to me about hockey all day long. And now he has a number one hit and gets to shoot videos and everything. It's been fun growing up with him. And Lady A, too, although Charles, Hilary and Dave don't remember me from the Third and Lindsley days.
The thing about sitting on a barstool and listening to good country music is that this is best done with Tennessee Whiskey (the David Allan Coe song OR the drink, probably both). This means I forget a lot of stuff about a lot of the artists I see. Like their names, if you are thinking of Saturday night.
And the thing about developing friendships with artists is that you can't always talk about what you know. You all have to wait for Holly's crappy press releases to know someone's working on a 3D movie. And believe me, her poor writing is so much better than getting a text at 2 a.m. when you have to work at 6. Just saying, that's all.
Because, if you didn't know this, celebrities keep very weird hours and they really don't understand people who have real jobs.
Even though sometime in the last year or so you probably realized this blog was on hiatus, I am making it official. I'm not going to retire yet, because there are some discussions of me being a real, live, honest-to-goodness musical pr-type at some point, and it could be helpful then. But I'm not going to make any promises about concert/awards show/CD reviews that probably just aren't going to happen. Hell, I haven't even bought a CD in months. I can't even remember the last one I bought. Maybe Keith Urban? Maybe.
If I change my mind, I will let people know. But until then, crank up the Hank and dance like no one's watching.
posted by Laura at 9:10 AM
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