If you were on Prince George Street on the east side of Columbus you did, the sounds of the band Windrush. It's as if you were back in 1966 listening to your favorite neighborhood teen rock band play that hidden gem that no one could play like they do, or listening for hours to your local Top 40 radio station to hear the three minutes of your favorite song speaking only to you. The excitement those songs gave you, the feeling that someone understands what you're going through, and the knowledge that those songs are being played by band members who are not only friends, but friends of yours (as this humble writer had the good fortune to have been in one of those Columbus 60's bands). Can you feel the Windrush? Now, flash forward 40 or so years to 2009, and imagine that the kids making that music are now turning 60. They've moved from the band from the "garage" to the basement now, since there are no parents screaming to "turn that music down". The rock and roll still has the ur
If you were on Prince George Street on the east side of Columbus you did, the sounds of the band Windrush. It's as if you were back in 1966 listening to your favorite neighborhood teen rock band play that hidden gem that no one could play like they do, or listening for hours to your local Top 40 radio station to hear the three minutes of your favorite song speaking only to you. The excitement those songs gave you, the feeling that someone understands what you're going through, and the knowledge that those songs are being played by band members who are not only friends, but friends of yours (as this humble writer had the good fortune to have been in one of those Columbus 60's bands). Can you feel the Windrush? Now, flash forward 40 or so years to 2009, and imagine that the kids making that music are now turning 60. They've moved from the band from the "garage" to the basement now, since there are no parents screaming to "turn that music down". The rock and roll still has the ur