Justine Brown – Managing Editor:
In our house, music was the heartbeat of family life. Though none of us could play an instrument to save our lives, we were a clan of passionate listeners and enthusiastic—if not always in-tune—singers. My childhood soundtrack was a rich tapestry of country western and folk pioneers like Willie Nelson, Kris Kristofferson, Bob Dylan, John Prine, Dolly Parton and Hank Williams Sr. At the time, I didn't fully appreciate this musical education, but those melodies were quietly taking root.
Money was often tight in our three-kid household, but somehow Dad always managed to scrape together enough to keep us on the cutting edge of audio technology. Our prized possession was a towering stack of 8-tracks, ready to transport us to new auditory worlds at the push of a button. I remember my mom laying out some of her hard-earned cheddar she earned from a temp job to buy a Country Western anthology one year – those records were played on regular rotation.
As I grew older, my musical horizons expanded, influenced by my sisters' eclectic tastes. Our house reverberated with the soaring vocals of REO Speedwagon, the thunderous riffs of Led Zeppelin, the laid-back California sound of the Eagles, and the theatrical rock operas of Styx. But my musical journey wasn't without its bumps. I still cringe remembering the day my sisters seven and nine years my senior—caught me belting out a disco tune I'd picked up from a K-Tel commercial (possibly Gloria Gaynor's "I Will Survive"). Their synchronized cry of "You like Disco?!" hit me like a ton of bricks. You'd have thought I'd announced my engagement to David Lee Roth (as if—my heart belonged to Shaun Cassidy). Utterly mortified and suddenly aware of music's social implications, I vowed never to hum that melody again.
Through my adolescence and into my college years, when hair metal and grunge reigned supreme, music remained my constant companion. When I met Jim, our shared passion for live concerts became one of the foundations of our relationship. Together, we've built a life punctuated by the rhythm of drum beats and guitar riffs, creating a personal history measured in setlists and ticket stubs. Now, watching our daughter inherit this love of music, we feel a sense of continuity, of passing on a cherished family tradition.
While my musical tastes have always been diverse, I've found myself increasingly drawn to the Americana sound in recent years. The raw authenticity of artists like Drayton Farley, Two Runner, Jason Isbell, Bella White and Josiah and the Bonnevilles resonates with me. It seems those early country and western seeds, planted so long ago in our music-filled home, have blossomed into a full-grown appreciation.
Oh yeah, I also got a gig working with Bill Kreutzmann's horses back in Mendocino in the early 80s. While I was too young to join the drummer of the Grateful Dead on tour, (had middle school commitments, after all), it was a great experience and something to remind me that rock stars are just people like the rest of us.
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