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a.j.legrand a.j.legrand

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A. J. LeGrand  New album "Expectations" available below:

https://ajlegrand.bandcamp.com/album/expectations-album

We're excited and honored to be sharing the stage this week with @charleycrockett & The Blues Drifters. Catch us up in Denton, TX at @danssilverleaf , Jan. 18. at 9 PM. This one is gonna be too much fun! Get tickets while you still can, get a babysitter and don't forget yall's dancin' shoes! Tickets available at danssilverleaf.com. You're probably already listening to his tunes, but if not, start listening to Charley now and you can thank me later ;)


Photo genio: @dansonbrody

We had a great time last night with @gsandthework out at @magnoliamotorlounge in Ft. Worth! Tonight the band is heading down to Dallas playing on one of our favorite stages at @the_foundry_dallas ... We'll be playing a bunch of new tunes and we can't wait to see y'all! The outdoor area will be insulated, heaters will be on and if you dance the whole time, the cold won't even faze you. Tunes start at 8:30 😊🤘❤️


Photo: @cinderblockdfw @melitagram @jakeryanhull

TONIGHT! Stached or un-stached, none shall be turned away! Gonna be a party, so come on out Ft. Worth! Looking like it might sell out, so get your tix while you still can!

(Post 5/5) I think it’s not only important to record our memories, but to share them with others. So often when we share these snippets of our lives with others, it then allows another person to recall something similar or a different memory that may have long been forgotten. Countless folks hold these beautiful stories in their minds but unfortunately don’t always have an opportunity, a stage or a forum in which to share them. I’m currently ironing out the details of a new project in which I hope to share stories and memories that I hold dear with anyone and everyone who has any interest in reading those sorts of things. I hope to couple each story/memory with a corresponding song that came from each individual experience. I hope I can create a forum in which we can all communicate back and forth; a space where everyone is able to share what comes to their minds and where all of us can share special, personal sentiments. Please stay tuned if you’d like to participate. Send me a message with your email address and I’ll be sure to send you more details as this thing starts to roll out. Love y’all, AJ.

Photo: @racheyrain

(Post 4/5) I made it back to our house and tried to remember the first time I ever saw the place but the memory was foggy. I stood in the kitchen and I rubbed my feet along the spots in the linoleum where it’s worn right though and the floor boards are exposed. I saw my mother cleaning dishes, peeling potatoes, husking the corn, washing the parsley and tomatoes from the garden and us eating the delicious warm meals she’d make every night. I could hear the same recognizable vocal tone of every NPR talk show host playing from her radio. I could smell the ink from the newspapers and see my little brother and I rolling them up, wrapping the rubber bands and loading our bags to deliver the news to the surrounding neighborhoods. I remembered being embarrassed when company came over and asked why there was a huge picnic table in our kitchen instead of a normal table with chairs and I’d fumble my words as I explained that there were too many kids and not enough chairs and then I’d attempt to brag and say that we preferred the picnic table because it functioned as a make shift Ping-Pong and poker table. I remembered waking up at night, walking into the kitchen and seeing my mom working on calligraphy projects. She did the graphics for local businesses, churches, the school district, she created her own new fonts, and if she wasn’t doing a project for free she was doing it for pennies. She wore a white, ink stained sweatshirt with the iconic print of Cosette’s face on the front. There was never time during the day for her to be artistic; she’d prioritize each day, take care of everything she felt was most important for our family and if by chance she had the energy and could find a free moment, she’d create something beautiful. I walked outside and into the woodshed in our backyard, I sat down on the cold bench swing and I remembered the homeless folks and hitchhikers that my dad would befriend and then let stay out there when they had nowhere else to go.

Photo: @racheyrain

(Post 3/5) I turned the corner and saw the spot where I consoled a friend who had just lost a grandfather. I turned another corner and I saw the house that a former girlfriend and I had sworn to live in one day. I passed the hill to the south of the baseball fields where we used to play our games and I could see my buddy’s dad standing there with a brown paper bag watching the game from 300 feet away. I stopped and spent time at my little brother’s home, we wrote songs, we recorded songs, talked about aspirations and to no avail, I tried to convince him to move to Texas—my life would be truly complete if he were here. I was also able to see my oldest and dearest friend, I met him on our first day of kindergarten, he was sitting next to me in the car wreck and he has been an example to me since the start. I spent time with another friend who is in grad school, who is editing a novel, who is traveling the country in an Airstream trailer and is arguably the most radiant person to walk this earth. I spent time with a friend who grew up in our hometown, who has spent nearly every moment of his life in the US, but now as an undocumented human being living here, he carries on with the ever present fear that any day could be his last in America—I wish every one of these visits could have been longer and I hope to see each of them again soon. I drove down the main streets and remembered the parades, the circus, the county fairs and the rodeos. I remembered my cub scout group would raise money each year cleaning up after those events and I began to despise entertainment that required so much clean up: bright lights, lots of people, too much noise, cigarettes, beer, chewing tobacco, spit, mud and the summer heat. Call it snow after Christmas day, call it fireworks on the 5th of July, call it whatever, it just doesn’t appeal to me. I turned another corner and I saw a man walking down the road. I got close enough and realized it was my dad. I pulled over by him and asked, “it’s pretty cold out, what are you doing?” He said, “It’s Sunday, I’m going to church. What are you doing?” I replied, “It’s Sunday, I’m driving around, listening to Guy Clark."

Photo: @racheyrain

(Post 2/5) In the parking lot outside of our church I remembered sitting during the services and being simultaneously curious and bored as a kid. I sat between my parents and I’d take off their rings and bracelets and put them all on my hands and wrists. I would look at their wedding rings that my dad had made out of silver 50 cent piece coins and I’d run my fingers on the insides of them where you can see the words “LIBERTY,” and “IN GOD WE TRUST,” and I figured this was a physical manifestation of the “love of God.” I would watch the sacrament being passed and consumed and I’d be fascinated as strangers exchanged the blood and body of Christ. Later I stopped where several of my pals and I had been in a car wreck years ago. I remembered the impression I had to put my seatbelt on only seconds before a car came out of nowhere and t-boned us. The car hit the side door right next to where I was sitting. I can still see a flash, hear the crunch and feel my body tense up. Disoriented, concussed and beat up we waited for help to arrive. We sat down and watched as a stranger approached us with a bottle of blue Powerade and cigarettes. One of his hands was deformed and was at least twice the size of his other hand. He said that we’d been protected by God and that he’d continue to protect us. I remembered looking at the drink and the cigarettes and being touched by this man who had no other remedy for the situation, but this exchange from a stranger did in fact lift our spirits.

Photo: @racheyrain

(Post 1/5) Quite often the many facets of our own past are out of sight, out of mind and we can’t recall what happened, how it felt, how it looked, smelt or tasted until we’re back in a specific location or back in the presence of a certain someone. In one of my favorite books, the characters wander aimlessly through the place they once called home. At certain locations each character recalls their own unique memories: the house that one was raised in, the pasture where one preached, the stream in which one was baptized, the places where they fought, bled, killed, prayed, sinned and worked the land. One refers to himself as a “graveyard ghos’” and explains that by being in a certain place, he can recall all that has happened there. During the holidays I took the liberty of being a “graveyard ghos’” in an attempt to hold onto certain things that I can feel slipping away. I spent time with friends and family, we played games, we spoke, we argued, we wrote songs, we ate delicious food and then in the early mornings I’d sneak away and I’d drive around in my car for hours, speaking into the voice memo app of my phone recounting all I could as I arrived at certain locations; stores, churches, bars, baseball fields, parks, schools, houses, parking lots and hidden spots. I don’t want to lose these memories and I need to make a record of them before they’re gone.

Photo: @racheyrain

Kicking off the Fort Worth Stock Show & Rodeo with a bang! We'll be sharing the stage with our pal Grady Spencer & The Work next week at Magnolia Motor Lounge!!! Tickets available now at magnoliamotorlounge.com ... COME ON OUT Y'ALL!!!

2017 has been the best year of our lives, thanks to a ton of y'all. We'll be starting the new year off tomorrow playing two acoustic sets at The Rustic in Dallas, TX, from 12:30-2 and then 4-6. They'll be keeping everything warm inside and the cold air outside, so don't worry. Come out for the first set, share a table with us in between, or catch us later. Love y'all!

Beyond excited to sit in and pick some tunes with my kid brother Dallin Puzey ( @grilledcheezpapi ) tonight at Nookies in Hermiston, OR. If you haven't checked out Dallin's tunes yet, do yourself a favor and do so. Get ready to go down a deeeep YouTube black hole. 🤘❤️


Photo: @cinderblockdfw

It was Rachel's birthday yesterday and it's our anniversary today, needless to say it's been a special few days--A little over 10 years ago I was going to college in the state of Washington. I enjoyed the place, the school, the classes I was taking, the friends I had made, and believe it or not I was actually a college athlete with a pretty comfortable situation. However, when the school year ended and eventually the summer was coming to a close, I felt like I just needed a change. My older brother had just gotten married and was going to college in Hawaii at the time, so I decided that I'd crash his honeymoon, and just go visit him for a change of pace. I packed a suitcase, bought a ticket and headed that way. As I waited for my loving and patient brother to pick me up at the airport, I received a voicemail from my old college coach asking where the hell I was. I'm not sure why, but I never returned his call. Sorry coach. My brother picked me up, we drove to the small town that we would be living in and as we approached his neighborhood, a beautiful girl crossed the road and started walking up the steps to her house. I couldn't help but look at her as she walked away. My brother said, "you really ought to meet that girl. I had a class with her last year and she's unbelievably kind." I don't know how things work, why we feel impressed to make certain decisions, change locations, follow brotherly advice, look a specific way, or approach some people, but I'm now married to that girl who crossed the street in front of us and today we're celebrating two years of marriage. Occurrences such as these make me believe that there is something unexplainable and much bigger than ourselves playing out on this stage. I'm overwhelmed with gratitude for every decision, every person and every mysterious factor that influenced Rachel and I somehow crossing paths all those years ago. I could have never imagined a life so sweet.


Photo: @b3njamin

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