CARLTON FLETCHER: A ‘good idea’ whose time evidently came and went

I‘m sorry I took your time, I am the poem that doesn’t rhyme.

— Elton John

It’s not like me to give up. No, I’m not one of those go-down-fighting kind of guys. I’m just stubborn.

But I am giving up on a project that sparked the journalistic juices in me for the briefest of moments and led to a few throwback moments from a significant time in my life.

Once upon a time during my tenure with this newspaper, my duties included keeping up with the local music scene and writing about local artists who made it pretty spectacular. Sure, it was a blast to talk with artists who made national names for themselves, artists like Ray Stevens, Luke Bryan, Field Mob, Lost Trailers, Cole Swindell, but the rising regional artists – Monroe Brown, Holly Drive, Unbreakable Bloodline, the Bo Henry Band – were just as entertaining.

In a time from the late ‘80s to the start of the new millennium, the music scene in Albany was bustling. A large number of venues hosted local bands each week, and music fans had plenty of options as to which artists they might want to check out on a given weekend.

I was thinking about how times had changed a while back, and I decided to take a look at live music and musicians in Albany today and compare their scene to that era from a generation ago that spawned such a red-hot musical explosion.

I mentioned my plan to compare the two eras in a series of articles in The Albany Herald, and quite frankly I was overwhelmed by the response. Literally hundreds of folks responded, most of them mentioning particular bands or venues that made that earlier era so musically viable.

I started what I said would be an extended musical series by doing a story on local venues, talking with musicians about their favorite places to play and the response they got from the community. Then I talked with members of one of my favorite bands from that era, Holly Drive, which elicited lots of feedback from former fans.

I ran into, surreptitiously, a couple of ladies who’d dabbled in music but had decided they were going to throw caution to the wind and start playing live. And, sitting in on a Rebel Saints rehearsal, I got feelings like those I’d gotten back 25-30 years ago. And I was excited about the potential for the series of stories I planned to write.

As I talked with each music fan who reached out about these stories and potential follow-up stories – not just from long ago, either, but stories about the new musical artists who have soldiered on to keep music alive in southwest Georgia, I just knew in my bones that I was on the right track.

But a funny – not ha-ha funny – thing happened as I planned out what I thought would be an entertaining series of articles that might take me on to the end of my career. The people I called on just quit returning my calls.

(Right about here, I’m sure many of you are saying that people weren’t really interested in my obsession with music, and you’re probably right. But if you’d seen all the responses I got when I first brought the series up, you’d be confused, too.)

I reached out to artists from the ‘90s and 2000s, artists who are performing today, promoters who used to book the bands, musicians I know very well and others I’d only heard of. And while many of them said they’d enjoy being part of the planned series, I could not get a firm commitment from the people who were vital for me to talk with.

So I’m giving up on the series, just a few stories in. Yeah, I’m a quitter, but this is more than just about ego. The new deadlines and responsibilities – along with small staffing – at the paper consumes my time. I’m not whining – I love this job; it’s why I’m still here – but for me to be able to conduct interviews and write articles for this newspaper, I have a pretty strict time frame. I usually have to set up appointments for after-business-hours, days off or during non-existent lunch periods just so I can get information for a story.

As I’ve tried to set up interviews or photo sessions, I’ve found that other people are obviously like me: They can’t find spare time in their busy lives.

No, I’m not a quitter. But I can’t continue to use up time I don’t have trying to do what I hoped would have been a good thing when the project has essentially turned into a one-way street. I’m not mad at anyone who’s had to cancel a scheduled meeting or anyone who hasn’t called me back when I reached out. I’ve just maxed out on my frustration level.

To all of you who did talk with me, and the many of you who reached out to suggest articles for this series: Thank you. I know there are a lot of you out there who, like me, find music one of the greatest gifts we’ve been given. But from this point on, I’ll be enjoying my music in my living room. At home.