It’s about what you see in mirror, and what you’re willing to acknowledge within the reflection staring right back at you.

For Jasmine Poole, aka “Wonky Tonk,” her reflection is one of beauty wrapped up in a whirlwind of emotions, either created by her or forced upon her lot in life. Hailing from Kentucky, the singer-songwriter crisscrosses the country in her old sedan. She’s the product of her punk rock roots and outlaw country upbringing, and she also absorbs the pain and happiness of everyday life.

It’s about speaking with your hands.

For guitarist Joe Taylor, his lifelong passion and career as a musician is one that finds itself at the crossroads of emotional purity and technical aptitude. With the melodic prowess akin to the likes of Jeff Beck, Bill Frisell or Steve Vai, the six-string ace has come a long way from his South Carolina roots. 

It’s a rabbit hole.

When one dives into a band, performer or genre, you find yourself swimming in the depths of an ocean of sound and tone, where the possibilities are as endless as the number of albums and acts out there, all ready to surprise you at a moment’s notice.

It’s all about what you’re willing to sacrifice.

Within the realm of melodic creativity, one word emerges — collaboration.

It’s the act of bringing resources together, whether it is lyrics, chords or simply the energy of one’s soul that inspires another. And what comes to fruition is a fusing of curiosity, passion and art. Collaboration lies at the foundation of all great music, where those close to you, from friends to fellow musicians, producers to those at the heart of the matter, each contribute to the evolution of the creative being.

The beauty of bluegrass lies in its transparency. 

Whether you’re having a good or bad day, those emotions will filter through your voice and fingertips. You can’t hide behind the music — you are vulnerable to the listener, to yourself, and to the cosmos above. It’s a rare and beautiful thing to come across such honesty, pure intent and genuine face-to-face interaction that the music conjures in a modern, fast-paced world.

Anyone who knows me well will tell you that I am a complete nut about music. There are people for whom music serves as a kind of soundtrack for their lives, so that certain bands and songs function as memory jukeboxes, instantly evoking specific times, places, and people whenever they come on, regardless of the circumstances.

Tribute shows are an enigma of the musical world: two parts nostalgia, one part entertainment and a pinch of talent for good measure.

“Our goal is to hopefully have people in the audience watch the show and just lose track of what is reality and what is an illusion,” said Kurt Brown, a Vegas-based producer of several musical artist tribute shows.

For 45 years, The Allman Brothers Band took rock-n-roll and stretched it into the unlimited possibilities of blues and jazz. They were an empty canvas of melodic influences that encompassed broad, rich paint strokes of English hard rock pioneers Cream, jazz improvisation maestro John Coltrane, and Chicago blues master Muddy Waters.

When I was a little girl, I had a stuttering problem. The memories of struggling with words that started with “S” or “N” are vivid in my mind. Sometimes I would try to come up with ways to completely avoid saying anything that started with those letters.