Six years ago I set out on a musical journey that I had no idea where it would lead me, if anywhere. Tragedy was its catalyst and something necessary for me to pursue.
I can still remember my first few awkward open mic appearances, just me and an electric guitar, trying to figure out what it as I wanted to be as a performer. I certainly had bands and artists I aspired to be like, or allow them to inspire me through their music. I’ve recited many of them before: Neil Young, Guided by Voices, Swearing at Motorists, Lou Reed, Pavement, Polvo, Elliott Smith, and so on.
Moving to Lynchburg in some ways was necessary in order to get out from under a mortgage. The city is cheaper in terms of housing and other factors–the weather is considerably more moderate compared to the harsher climate of the Northeastern part of the U.S., particularly the winters.
In terms of music however, there isn’t any sort of underground music scene. I know gurus like Matt Bacon talk about connecting and building collaboration within your local scene, but there’s really nothing here to connect to. My few attempts reaching out to a handful of people playing original music have been rebuffed. For the past 18 months, I’ve been figuring out some sort of Plan B. Rather than play 65 or 70 times a year like in the past, I’ve managed a handful of shows, playing covers mainly, which I no longer want to do. Continue reading