Did You Ever See A Leg Grow?
It’s 1969, and the future of music is here: the eight-track. Drive-ins and Sock Hops are everything. The Beatles rule the world, it’s the Summer of Woodstock, and rock and roll drives America. Every teen wants to be a rock star, and garages nationwide are rehearsal space for the next Rolling Stones. It’s the era of the Garage Band.
Six students at an obscure music conservatory in Appalachia have a dream and decide to act on it. Most of the students are vocal music majors, but they need people to play instruments. So, the singers play guitar, trumpet, saxophone, keyboard and drums. Who does the singing? A piano major, of course.
The guys figure out quickly that nobody pays to hear music written by dead Italians. When they go to a live performance, they want the stage to be Poetry in Motion, they yell “Let’s Dance,” men knew they had to Walk Like a Man and tell their chicks that Big Girls Don’t Cry, but Save the Last Dance for Me. In the Still of the Night, when Smoke Gets In Your Eyes, It’s Judy’s Turn to Cry.
Relive the days when going on tour with a band was the highlight of your life. No internet, no cellphones, no streaming music, just radio and live performances. Laugh and cry with the guys and their girls as they do their best to put off having to grow up. Of course, time always wins, you grow up, and the dreams of youth are just that, dreams. But, wouldn’t it be fun to pretend, just for a few hours, that screaming girls were rushing the stage, you’re playing an encore for the ages, and life just doesn’t get any better?
Ponder the deep questions of life. Do we have enough gas money to get to Chattanooga? Where can I find booze on Sunday? Will she still be there when I get home? Do I even want the tour to end? And, most importantly:
