Your Pop Beach Country Summer Anthem Video of the Day
Jake Owen's Barefoot Blue Jean Night.
And now to go on a listening spree of my fav. Pop Beach Country act, Kenny Chesney. And as much as I tend to stick to his older stuff, I really do like his current song with Grace Potter. Their voices work well together.
Oh, and I've edited the fic masterlist post to list the Ridic Popstars/Nashville AU ficlets. It may be nothing but a 'verse full of background character ficlets, but damn it, it makes me happy. Now to post a teaser of Gene Roe's background ficlet in this 'verse:
506 split up eight years ago, but the band and its crew still got together for an annual cook-out. There was no bad blood between any of them. Ron Speirs had to leave the band to raise his kids, and there was no 506 without Ron Speirs at the mic, leading them off. Gene Roe had few regrets from those years, long past, he got to live the dream of touring stadiums around the world and playing to sell-out crowds, but he quite enjoyed his life now. The crowds still sold-out, just in much smaller venues. The music was softer, the entourage miniscule, the lyrics darker and sadder. It was usually just Gene and his guitar these days, and whatever mixed bag of touring musicians he could find.
Ron went off with his kids, took them from Tennessee to New York to Los Angeles and back. He was starting an art gallery, something to keep the kids grounded in the here and now and keep Ron from going insane. Ron needed art and its expression more than anyone else Gene ever met. The whole Speirs family was much the same and Gene prayed they could find what they needed on the streets of Music City.
Chuck Grant was their frontman. Ron sang the lyrics, but Chuck was the wordsmith. He played the bass like his life depended on it and wrote straight from the heart. Chuck settled in Brooklyn after the break-up, thought he was going to be living on the edge and moved just in time for the urban renewal. He still liked it though, even if he bitched about overpriced coffee and hipster kids, Chuck was one of the best music mentors out there.
Bill Guarnere was their drummer. He could play fast and hard, though he learned to play through jazz and classic rock records. There was something classic about Bill, he was an old soul who had a swagger few could match. Bill didn’t stick around the music scene much longer. Well, that wasn’t exactly fair to say. He went back to Philly and taught band classes and gave private music lessons. He worked by a barter system for the lessons. It drove Fran, his wife, a little insane, but even she couldn’t deny that it was nice always having some newbie guitarist mowing their lawn in exchange to learn how to play more than one chord.
Bill was the one who brought Babe Heffron on board as their guitar and drum tech. Babe was this fresh faced kid right out of high school when 506 started touring. He was the same age as Bill, but somehow just seemed years younger. Babe still worked the music scene; he was a lifer, just like Gene, never able to escape the allure of the business. And with Babe, hell, he alone held at least 85% of Gene’s regrets from that former lifetime.
Gene could be closed off, he could be cold. He was always there for his friends and family, always there for the show, but the constant toll of the road took something out of his soul. The years when 506 broke into the mainstream weren’t good for his peace of mind. He was never quite comfortable in his own skin, playing those stadium shows, with pyrotechnics and flashing lights. He wasn’t okay with the interviews that seemed far too invasive and everyone who wanted just a little bit of his time until they took it all. So when Babe came to him, young and confused and desperate for something the kid really didn’t fully understand at the time, Gene turned him down and turned him away.
And Babe never said boo about it. He kept his mouth shut and kept up his fool’s façade, but Gene could always see that rejection, lurking somewhere in those wide eyes of his, only there for a second before it was gone with a small joke and a forced laugh.
When 506 was done, so was Gene’s time with Babe, but that didn’t mean he stopped looking out for him.
Gene couldn’t always connect with people on a personal level, he just had to keep that to himself, but he had no qualms about sharing his music, knowledge and skills with anyone who came by looking. It kept Gene on the road for most of his life now, but he didn’t mind much. He had little calling him home, except a few relatives and childhood friends. Gene knew some of it was avoidance, the refusing to settle down, to think about what he lost, but it’s not like he didn’t feel the loneliness, sleeping in a cold hotel room and choking down another continental breakfast. Gene was well aware when he went to bed at night and when he woke up in the morning just what he lost. Even if it was hard to lose what you never really had in the first place, it didn’t mean you forgot the ghost of the opportunity.
Click to viewAnd now to go on a listening spree of my fav. Pop Beach Country act, Kenny Chesney. And as much as I tend to stick to his older stuff, I really do like his current song with Grace Potter. Their voices work well together.
Oh, and I've edited the fic masterlist post to list the Ridic Popstars/Nashville AU ficlets. It may be nothing but a 'verse full of background character ficlets, but damn it, it makes me happy. Now to post a teaser of Gene Roe's background ficlet in this 'verse:
506 split up eight years ago, but the band and its crew still got together for an annual cook-out. There was no bad blood between any of them. Ron Speirs had to leave the band to raise his kids, and there was no 506 without Ron Speirs at the mic, leading them off. Gene Roe had few regrets from those years, long past, he got to live the dream of touring stadiums around the world and playing to sell-out crowds, but he quite enjoyed his life now. The crowds still sold-out, just in much smaller venues. The music was softer, the entourage miniscule, the lyrics darker and sadder. It was usually just Gene and his guitar these days, and whatever mixed bag of touring musicians he could find.
Ron went off with his kids, took them from Tennessee to New York to Los Angeles and back. He was starting an art gallery, something to keep the kids grounded in the here and now and keep Ron from going insane. Ron needed art and its expression more than anyone else Gene ever met. The whole Speirs family was much the same and Gene prayed they could find what they needed on the streets of Music City.
Chuck Grant was their frontman. Ron sang the lyrics, but Chuck was the wordsmith. He played the bass like his life depended on it and wrote straight from the heart. Chuck settled in Brooklyn after the break-up, thought he was going to be living on the edge and moved just in time for the urban renewal. He still liked it though, even if he bitched about overpriced coffee and hipster kids, Chuck was one of the best music mentors out there.
Bill Guarnere was their drummer. He could play fast and hard, though he learned to play through jazz and classic rock records. There was something classic about Bill, he was an old soul who had a swagger few could match. Bill didn’t stick around the music scene much longer. Well, that wasn’t exactly fair to say. He went back to Philly and taught band classes and gave private music lessons. He worked by a barter system for the lessons. It drove Fran, his wife, a little insane, but even she couldn’t deny that it was nice always having some newbie guitarist mowing their lawn in exchange to learn how to play more than one chord.
Bill was the one who brought Babe Heffron on board as their guitar and drum tech. Babe was this fresh faced kid right out of high school when 506 started touring. He was the same age as Bill, but somehow just seemed years younger. Babe still worked the music scene; he was a lifer, just like Gene, never able to escape the allure of the business. And with Babe, hell, he alone held at least 85% of Gene’s regrets from that former lifetime.
Gene could be closed off, he could be cold. He was always there for his friends and family, always there for the show, but the constant toll of the road took something out of his soul. The years when 506 broke into the mainstream weren’t good for his peace of mind. He was never quite comfortable in his own skin, playing those stadium shows, with pyrotechnics and flashing lights. He wasn’t okay with the interviews that seemed far too invasive and everyone who wanted just a little bit of his time until they took it all. So when Babe came to him, young and confused and desperate for something the kid really didn’t fully understand at the time, Gene turned him down and turned him away.
And Babe never said boo about it. He kept his mouth shut and kept up his fool’s façade, but Gene could always see that rejection, lurking somewhere in those wide eyes of his, only there for a second before it was gone with a small joke and a forced laugh.
When 506 was done, so was Gene’s time with Babe, but that didn’t mean he stopped looking out for him.
Gene couldn’t always connect with people on a personal level, he just had to keep that to himself, but he had no qualms about sharing his music, knowledge and skills with anyone who came by looking. It kept Gene on the road for most of his life now, but he didn’t mind much. He had little calling him home, except a few relatives and childhood friends. Gene knew some of it was avoidance, the refusing to settle down, to think about what he lost, but it’s not like he didn’t feel the loneliness, sleeping in a cold hotel room and choking down another continental breakfast. Gene was well aware when he went to bed at night and when he woke up in the morning just what he lost. Even if it was hard to lose what you never really had in the first place, it didn’t mean you forgot the ghost of the opportunity.