Posted tagged ‘Megan Peeler’

Art of Sound Day One: Megan Peeler

October 22, 2010

        Art of Sound proves again the city folks know how to have fun too, and they’re just getting started.

        Megan Peeler is a hometown kinda girl who now lives in Nashville. The young lady is mix of down-home and country cosmopolitan. At first she seems like a shy little girl who has a gig at the Fair, but in a few songs transforms into a powerful grown up woman singer. Just when you think the kid has left the building she’ll break into a whimsical piano number or call up regional or local musicians to jam an impromptu song on stage. She toggles in between wide-eyed child and seasoned performer, sometimes all in one song.

        She sings of lost love, heartaches, and busted plans, but then brightens up at the thought of new dreams just beyond the rainbow. Her art reflects the reality of youth; somewhere in between vulnerable doubt and tough-minded independence.

        She’ll make you think about your own. As a father, you wish your children could remain young forever, and that you could somehow shield them from harsh realities and mean people. At the same time you want to free them to enjoy life as an adult the same way you have. Megan’s the kind of artist who makes you realize you need to call up your own daughter and remind her how much you love her.

        Megan has a degree in Music Therapy from Appalachian U. (magna cum laude by the way) As the young lady finds her way in a tough business, she hasn’t forgotten the truth; we play music because it’s fun, and it makes our lives better. It’ll take an old Doc away for a minute to forget all the terrible problems I’m not powerful enough to solve. 

        I don’t understand anything about the music biz, but I can tell you this: Megan Peeler plays and sings real music. My guess is when I land in the Harvey County Nursing Home, she’ll drop by when she tours through and sing “I’ll Fly Away” with me.

        And if I sing a flat harmony line, I bet she’ll just throw that curly head back, laugh, and say the next take is gonna be perfect. Keep holding on to hope, kid, it’s what us older folks do too. We’re all the same.   

Dr. B