Music

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Hunter Billingsley

Hunter Billingsley has music in his blood. A 22-year-old native to the Texas Hill Country, Hunter comes by his love of music and natural proclivities for it honestly. His great aunt was a Broadway singer. His cousin, Donald Braswell, finished 4th place on America’s Got Talent and toured throughout Europe. His grandfather was an accomplished…

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Music – Jessa Rew

Jessa Rew’s confidence and grace comes across right away—whether talking to her over a cup of coffee or watching her share her songs from the stage. Jessa grew up on a 4,000 acre ranch in Pendleton, Oregon. Most of her early childhood was spent in the outdoors with her horses, enjoying the family’s beautiful piece…

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Music – Matt Kersh

Matt Kersh writes and plays classic Americana/Folk, plenty of soul, with Texas roots. His powerful lyrics paired with his soulful voice create music that is both familiar and new at the same time, comforting and thought-provoking. A chance to see him perform live is something to be sought after. Kersh is a native Texan, born…

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The Past

Despite what it looks like with these stories, I think very little about my past. What is done, I like to leave done. Maybe this is me keeping a few memories for later? For a day when I will want to look back. But, after I close this story, I won’t look back for a…

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Black Ribbons Part Three

There are distances we make for others. Spaces. Between looks. They are hard to cross. Hidden miles between drinks and conversations. I was lost out there as tea table lights faded into darker hours. My eyes – glassed. Not from exhaustion, or beer – this is still the first can half-drunk and warm from my…

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Black Ribbons Part 2

The next twenty minutes found me standing outside the motel. Making a few calls on the phone down my list: Dad, girlfriend, friends back home, and finally anything I was missing for work. I was in the middle of texting my girlfriend about what she did last night when the driver pulled up.  “Ruh-ne?” he yelled…

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Troubadour

Black Ribbons White: a single wooden side table held a heavily used coffee maker, and a few pamphlets. The only things on the wall to break up this ocean of white: a red plastic clock and a pastel work of wild flowers framed in a dull gold. At the front desk, unaware or uncaring about…

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Dogs, Pt. III

Montreal was quiet. Sunlight poured low and soft. Broken rays across the last few streets as I made my way back to the club. Two more lights, then a left, then over the hill… I think… Seemed like a lot of places were closed – bars shut over windows and plexi-doors with heavy pad locks. Some…

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Summer Concerts

JUNE 1ST: The Toman Brothers @ 7pm (11th Street Cowboy Bar – Bandera) 1st: The Georges @ 7pm (Gruene Hall – Gruene) 1st: Sol Patch Live @ 6-9pm (Silver Creek – Fredericksburg) 2nd: Bill Kirchen & Too Much Fun @ 7pm (Gruene Hall – Gruene) 3rd: Fabulous Chevelles @ 7:30pm (Angel’s Ice House – Spicewood)…

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Montreal and Dogs

“You shouldn’t go,” she laughed, “what is there for you out there?” She had an accent, a deep French-Canadian seriousness, that made everything she said feel like I’m back in high school talking to a teacher. “I don’t know.” “No, stay for another,” she said already filling another tumbler with ice, “I wanna know about…

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My Touring Mantra

Over the next few shows I traveled with the band northeast. We headed up slowly towards New York, which would be our first real time off. Relax. Walk. Stretch. Eat.   The others had places to stay. Well almost all the others. I stayed on a bus, which is much creepier when no one else is on…

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Troubadour

OUR EYES…  ON OUR WAY TO ATLANTA     “Where were you?” Those words were in the room, but I don’t know who said them. Might have been me and I just don’t remember. But I knew as she turned to me. I knew her eyes ‘cause they were like mine.  Everyone always said I…

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The Troubadour

After New Orleans and the Stars   I was feeling buzzed after our set. Feeling good. Lost in the delicate web of New Orleans; that kind of floating, detaching me from everything. It was my first show in this new group, and I made it through the first performance sober, though I wasn’t completely loose…

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Troubadour

605 Miles From Home: Part 2 We’d made it into the diner only seconds before it really began to pour. In a few minutes, the rain filled the street, overwhelmed the gutter, and crept over the sidewalk.   Normally I love a flash flood…maybe because it’s a very South Texas thing, to suddenly go from a beautiful…

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