Last and Probably Least (It's All In Your Mind)

By Scott Coner

Country Artist

         I was the youngest in our family. I don’t know for sure what that really means to all of you “counseling types” out there. But, I probably wasn’t the one anyone had any money on to do much with his life. I took a friend of mine to dinner the other night that I have known since kindergarten, and he kind of reiterated the fact that nobody expected anything out of me. In truth, I just didn’t have much to work with. And no, I am not being modest at all. I had my share of problems, and I was light headed.

         I remember sitting in class throughout seventh grade begging my mind to stay focused. The teacher would be at the chalkboard doing a fine job of explaining algebra or whatever a pronoun is, but my mind would be somewhere else. I hadn’t lost myself to music yet, so I must have been thinking basketball, or maybe about Michelle P. or Julie W. or whoever else I was tripping on that week. The simple, easy-to-explain fact of the matter is that I simply didn’t know how to control my mind yet. I’m sure nobody had really talked to me about it much. They probably just told me to pay attention and stop being such a screw-up. This problem, this habit, followed me for the next several years. To say that I improved in high school would probably be an exaggeration. I just traded basketball fantasies for music. The girl thoughts never really left the building if you know what I’m saying.

         Looking back now, I can totally see what my problems were. But things were much different back in the '70s, and I think the typical assessment was that people grew out of their stupidity. My parents tried to help me. My mom took me to a math and English tutor. I even went to summer school between seventh and eighth grade. The problem was not a learning disability though. It was something within me. To quote the late Syd Barrett, “I have an oddly shaped head, and you’ll never understand me.”

         My older sister was the one with all of the talent. She sang every Friday night at The Little Nashville Opry near where we lived. She would stand there on stage as a mere teenager and sing to several thousand people to get them engaged for whatever country music superstar would be appearing that night. My sister was pretty. She was popular and smart. She was head of the student council, prom queen, and homecoming queen. She had lots of friends and dated whoever she wanted. Me? Well, I wasn’t any of those things. That’s probably okay though, because I don’t look all that cool in a tiara. 

Country/Americana artist Scott Coner (second from right) celebrates the completion of a Nashville recording session with fellow music industry professionals at Studio 515 in Berry Hill. Joining Coner for the session were (from left) guitarist Mike Waldren, guitarist Jake Widenhofer, keyboardist Dane Bryant, drummer Sean McDonald, engineer/producer Logan Schiegel, engineer Trever Golden, and Lynyrd Skynyrd background vocalist Carol Chase. (Photo by Cynnamae Media Productions)

         I’m telling you all of these embarrassing and belittling facts about myself to get to a point. The point is, I hadn’t really “arrived” yet. But, I was being prepared for my future unknowingly. Like I said, every single Friday night I was being taken to see some of America’s greatest country talent whether I liked it or not. These people were the real deal, too. Not some suburban kid with a cowboy hat infusing rap with country music. I think I saw every single star from that era excluding Willie Nelson, and I’m not sure why he never showed up. All of this music was being poured into my head, and I wasn’t smart enough or wise enough at the time to realize that a transformation was taking place in my soul.

         Something else happened during that season that opened my eyes to a possibility. My mom and my sister had a garage sale, and my sister had a card table set up with a cash box on it to hold their combined fortunes. Near that cash box was a piece of paper with a song on it my sister was working on. I’ll never forget the lyrics:

         “Long, long ago in a town called Tyrone City,

         Lived a man who stood seven feet tall.

         All the people called him “Big Jack” 'cause he was so big and tall.”

         Yeah, I know. You haven’t ever heard that one on a hit parade on American Country Countdown. But I remember it, and that is all that matters. I looked at those lyrics, I heard her singing the melody, and knew almost instantly that I could write a song. I began to slowly think in a new direction. So many things happened after that that pointed me in the direction I’m headed now. I’ve already told you about the summer I was shut in the house with a stack of 45’s and comic books due to bee sting allergies. And I have also told you about the time my friend Jr. Crowder and me went to a high school talent contest, and I heard “Free Bird” for the first time. All of these moments and many others were unique in how they formed me. Music taught me how to concentrate and shut out everything else. It healed me of so much, and it gave me direction. It actually allowed me to visualize who and what I wanted to be.

         So, long story short, my sister ended up quitting the music business. But she did go to college, and she is a writer now. I was never popular in school, never was prom king, or anything remotely like that. But I became a singer-songwriter. I even write a little book from time to time.

         There is a moral to this story, and here it is. I was once as stupid as a stick. I couldn’t think clearly. I couldn’t concentrate. And I think I may have been a little bit mental. I allowed myself to change and morph into what I am today. And today, I am a very happy individual. I cannot complain about much of anything. My ship came in a little later than most, but I think that was for the best as well because I had some transforming to do. Music and God did this for me. I gave my heart to God because of a song being played in church called “God of the Mountain” by The McKameys. I let go of a lot of anger because of music. I even fell in love because of music, but that’s another story. I believe we all have this in us. Maybe music doesn’t reside in everyone’s heart, but something does. We have to reach out to whatever it is and grab hold of it like it’s the only line to survival.

         Look back on your own life and connect the dots. If you look hard enough, I promise you will see the very hand of God as he molded you and prepared you for your own version of greatness. Don’t waste time living in the shadows of your past. The past is past. Today is what we have been given. Look in the mirror and open yourself up to who and what you truly are, not just what you have allowed yourself to become. We only get one pass at this. Make it count.

         Scott Coner is a country singer-songwriter who has worked in the studio with legendary artists such as Tanya Tucker, T. Graham Brown and Charlie Daniels. You can learn more about him and hear his music at www.Facebook.com/ScottConerMusic, www.YouTube.com/user/ScottConer, and www.ScottConer.com. Follow Scott at www.Twitter.com/ScottConer.

The Long and Winding Music Row

By Scott Coner

Country Artist

            I’m in a West End Boulevard hotel in Nashville tonight. I’ve been here countless times, and if I need to be in the city somewhere or over on Music Row, I usually stay on this end of town. I read somewhere that Waylon, Willie and Kris lived right down the road near the Centennial Park that I jog in. I like to think about what those days must have been like with the writing of some of the planet's finest songs, the laughter, the dreams. That must have really been something. But, I can only imagine.

            But here I am tonight. Set up for more meetings, listening to more plans for my music, then finally, laying all of my songs, my book, and my stats out on a large table for everyone to view. “Just turn your head to the right and cough for me Scott. This won’t be too uncomfortable.” I walk into many of the same buildings that artists much greater than me have walked into. We have walked the same streets. We probably came here with something close to the same dream. It’s a painful process to go through as a writer and a singer. It’s painful because we don’t really talk about my songs as much as I want. They want to know where I have been doing shows. I can feel them sizing me up. I can sense them wishing I was better looking. Maybe a little bit younger. “I probably should have worn some cool clothes and maybe a cowboy hat,” I tell myself. But, the last time I tried to wear something like that, I felt like I would hit every wall in every hallway, and I don’t even own a cowboy hat. I can feel myself starting to heat up a little bit with embarrassment as I hear myself stutter and search for meaningful answers to the man’s questions. 

Scott Coner performs (Photo provided by Cynnamae Productions)

            He asks me what my strongest song is. I answer back, “Well, they are all my favorites. It would be like asking me to pick the cutest puppy out of a litter.” Oh God, did I just say that? Am I mental? Am I trying to screw this meeting up? He laughs politely, but I am certain we have both identified me as an idiot. But the meeting takes a different turn. He actually likes my music! He goes on to tell me that he believes he can do something with my music, my “brand” as they call it down here. I’m not certain what else he said from then on because I’m a little bit freaked out. I walk out of the meeting with Chuck, my publicist, my wife, and my dad. I brought my dad because he’s far more intelligent than me. I brought my wife because she is pretty and makes me look not so hayseed, and I brought Chuck to discuss my social media. I only came to discuss puppies apparently, but I was willing to discuss music if we got around to it.

            I’m finally in the safety of my pickup. I roll down the streets of Music Row with a little bit of wind in my sails for the first time in quite a while. I am so thankful to this gentleman that mere words can’t cover it. He was so impressive yet humble at the same time. I’m apprehensive, but I have a feeling that finally things might go my way for once. I have wanted to give up so many times. I don’t play poker, but I have felt like a gambler saying, “deal me in,” one too many times. Maybe some version of my dreams may be coming true. I just keep driving and try not to think about it. The sky is an uncanny blue for this time of year, but there’s a storm off to the west. I can hear Waylon singing in my mind, “I don’t think Hank done it this way.”

            Life sure has a lot of sharp edges in it, but I can tell you that I wouldn’t change mine even if I could. I’m not at all sure what the future holds, and that is just fine. I’m certain I will have many more opportunities to go to meetings and say something stupid. I’m just glad I tricked 'em into letting me get this far.

            I've recorded a song and music video about my Music Row experiences called "Nashville Song". Check it out at https://youtu.be/X1CIy5T7Trc.

            Scott Coner is a country/Americana/Southern rock singer-songwriter who has worked in the studio with legendary artists such as Tanya Tucker, T. Graham Brown and Charlie Daniels. Learn more about and and/or listen to his music at http://www.YouTube.com/user/ScottConer, http://www.Facebook.com/ScottConerMusic, or http://www.ScottConer.com. Follow him at http://www.Twitter.com/ScottConerMusic.

'I'll Have The Vanilla, Please'

By Scott Coner

Country Artist

         Yesterday (35 years ago), music had depth. It always seemed, to me at least, to be taking us somewhere different. Today, I find myself less taken back with most of it. The other day I heard Adele's new release, "Hello", and it touched a deeper chord. Last summer, Eric Church caught my attention with "Wrecking Ball", and a year ago, Alt-J blew me away with "Left Hand Free". The trouble is, I have listened to an awful lot of music in between. A while back, I talked about really liking the newest double album by Warren Haynes, but you probably won't hear his material on the radio, and the radio is what I'm really talking about. If you get off the beaten path, you can still find some things of value.

         I find myself wondering why radio has settled for such normalcy. I read quite a lot about the business, its artists, and music history, and it always hasn't been this way. Even though I was just a small child in the '60s, I still remember music from that moment. I just wasn't old enough to attempt to grasp what was actually happening in that moment. The '60s obviously got off to an amazing start with The Beatles, and I wonder what it must have felt like to have heard their sound for the first time. There were so many artists just blowing the doors open I couldn't begin to list. Glen Campbell was one of those people, one of those sounds that I have grown up with that always seems classy and fresh. Herb Alpert is another. Consider George Jones or even Willie Nelson. "The Red Headed Stranger" was truly a gift if you ask me. 

Country artist Scott Coner works on his Indiana farm (Photo by Cyndi Coner)

         Maybe, today's radio releases only mirror society's drab, unexciting culture. The investors in radio, the people that purchase ad time, are looking for sheep, not out-of-the-box thinkers. They want their radio ads to target car buyers with bad credit. Ad purchasers want to promote their products to a "C" curve of our society instead of a smaller listening crowd that enjoy Lucinda Williams or Chris Knight. As with everything, our culture is driven by the dollar bill. Radio is a perfect example.

         I suppose what I am hoping you will do is to look around a little bit. I don't know how or where you should look, but you found me didn't you? By the way, I wonder how you found me?  I challenge you to take control of the music you listen to and step away from the vanilla flavor of our current world. The low-information crowd must be willing to eat whatever they are given and like it, but that doesn't mean we have to. If we dig deep, we can find music that we can identify with. It just shouldn't require so much energy to find music with power and depth. And if you find something that really shakes your world, let me know because I'm bored to death.

         Scott Coner is a country artist who has recorded with legendary country artists such as Tanya Tucker, T. Graham Brown and Charlie Daniels. You can learn more about him and hear his music at www.ScottConer.com, www.Facebook.com/ScottConerMusic, or www.YouTube.com/user/ScottConer.