Blue Sky Riders

Some things are meant to happen after the sun goes down. Convenience store robberies. Drug deals. Rock shows. The problem that you run up against when you put on a concert at 6 PM in Denver in the middle of July is … it feels like a 4 PM show in Hell. Take a ninety nine degree day… add stage lighting… stir In some stage wardrobe (usually black because it is slimming)… no, seriously. Take it. Get it out of here. (more…)

A boy’s first boob. It is a mystical, magical occurrence… the first time an artist is asked to sign a woman’s boob. I had dreamed about this moment from the mud of Woodstock when I first dreamed of being a musician. What would it be like? Would I choke and drop the pen? Would I get all sweaty and grab something for a firmer signature… and get punched by a jealous husband? Would Georgia let me do it at all? (more…)

There will be no complaining about the show tonight. No whining about stairs…no judgmental opinions of hardworking people who paid their money to come to a concert. You know why? (more…)

Let me tell you all about the wonderful things about last night’s show at the B#%#y #% in #%**#%. About three songs into our Blue Sky Riders set last night, a woman in the audience at the foot of the stage right in front of Kenny handed him a note that said, “Play your OLD stuff!” We have a line in our song “Dream” that says “As if all I’ve been’s all I’m ever gonna be for the rest of my life.”  I would like to have that line engraved on a beautiful piece of wood, possibly Mahogany or Teak… and #%%* her across the ##^*%. (more…)