Dear Rocka readers,
This month I got to publish a feature on j solomon. His manager reached out to me late last year and he instantly reminded me a lot of Briston Maroney. I try not to compare artists to their contemporaries, but there’s a sense of sincerity both artists possess. In an industry often over-saturated with singer-songwriter acoustic guitar guys who just sing what you want to hear, it’s refreshing to find someone like j solomon. We talked a lot about what it’s like to leave home and document it in some way. His debut EP comes out later this month. Read the feature here.
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Last Wednesday, I saw Gregory Alan Isakov in Kalamazoo. I don’t think I’ve ever loved a venue more. The air was terminally smokey with no source in sight. It dimmed the glimmer of the acoustic instruments on stage and made the whole concert feel like looking at an old photo. The golden walls and charmingly gaudy decorations screamed history and haunting. But the golden trim on the walls and ornate vases on shelves meant nothing when I locked eyes with the stone girl on the rafters. Right above center stage was a small balcony displaying a sculpture of a girl peering over the railing. She’s the guardian angel of the space.
He played two encores to the room of mostly millennials. I always describe GAI’s audience as guys who wear hats and drink cappuccinos. They’re always nice people. They just also have mortgages.
The setlist was similar to the one played at the Chicago show I went to last year, but the venue felt so intimate that it elevated the experience exponentially. The first time I saw GAI, it was at the Stargazer’s Theatre in Colorado Springs. Nothing will ever top that, but this got pretty close.
I usually sob at GAI shows. I associate his music with the worst time of my life, a hole I never thought I’d crawl out of. And now I am able to sit and listen with my legs hanging over the edge, peering down into the pit like the theatre’s guardian angel. Don’t get me wrong, I still teared up at points. It was just more of a response to the overwhelming sense of beauty than it was the PTSD. I met a boy I once loved at a GAI show a few years ago, and although that situation did much more harm than good, he once told me that he admired how deeply I was able to connect with music. I think about that nearly every day, and I am so grateful that my brain and my soul are wired so sensitively in that regard. I do not miss him anymore, but I can hear him singing verses when I listen to the “The Weatherman.” I still find that sweet.
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This month’s mix features some mellow goodies. I’ve really enjoyed “In the Life Zone” by Dwight Sykes. The bass on it is crazy and there’s a lot of noises in the production that I’d sound like the most pretentious person if I tried to describe them. So just listen. With headphones! There’s a classic country track, called “I’ll Go On Alone” which I heard before the GAI show and loved. The spotlight track is “Mirrorball” by Zinadelphia. I am just so enamored with this song. Her vocals are like a modern Amy Winehouse. Here’s the verse I like the most that makes me punch the air:
And I find peace when I'm all alone
And when I drive down familiar roads
Now with a drink in my hand, barely can stand, feels like I'm 17 again
And I want to go there, I want to be her,
Oh, there's so many things I could teach her
There's so much to life beyond the misdemeanors
Give it a spin. See everyone next month and if you’re the GAI man reading this, please do not text me.
Rocka out,
Ally