Hello from 34,000 feet. I’m currently on a United Express flight from Asheville to Denver, Colorado. Probably somewhere over Kansas at the moment. Who knows? What awaits me is another adventure, this time to the Telluride Bluegrass Festival. My first time there. Lifelong dream. 

The second annual “Great American Bash” will feature Americana/rock sensation The Brothers Gillespie and The Borrowed Band (country/western) on Saturday, July 5, in the parking lot of The Scotsman, located at 37 Church Street in downtown Waynesville. 

The Town of Sylva, Jackson County Parks and Recreation Department and Jackson County Chamber of Commerce are proud to present the 16th season of the annual “Concerts on the Creek” music series. 

A community jam will be held from 6-7:30 p.m. Thursday, July 3, on the front patio of the Marianna Black Library in Bryson City.

Anyone with a guitar, banjo, mandolin, fiddle, dulcimer or anything unplugged is invited to join. Singers are also welcomed to join in or you can just stop by and listen. 

Americana/folk singer-songwriter A. Lee Edwards will perform at 5 p.m. Wednesday, June 25, at the Cataloochee Ranch in Maggie Valley. 

At the recent MerleFest, the nation’s premier Americana/bluegrass festival in Wilkesboro, an emerging act from our region, Upstream Rebellion, not only made its debut at the gathering as part of the band competition, the members also walked away immensely inspired. 

I recently found my old CD album, the giant book of plastic sleeves that many of us tediously curated back in the day. Flipping through the pages, one by one, I smiled as I recalled memories — certain albums serving as soundtracks to highlights and lowlights of my teenage and early adult years. 

The title of this column comes from a lyric in a 1968 song by R&B sensation, the late Johnny Thunder. Although it wasn’t a radio hit at the time, it has become a cult classic, a number that (truly) reinvigorates the soul. Trust me, track it down. You’ll get it. 

It’s 12:23 a.m. and I can hear the tires from sporadic cars splashing through small puddles on nearby Walnut Street in downtown Waynesville. They say a big rainstorm is coming later today. For now, it’s another pull from the lukewarm Coors Light can.

Much like their sorrowful, purposeful melodies, the members of The Last Revel contain this thick thread of self, and of place, when it comes to the underlying trait in the sounds and scope of their intent, onstage and in the studio — survival mode.