Table of contents 5280 July 2007
Jeff Finlin might be one of the finest American troubadours since Bob Dylan. Just ask Bruce Springsteen or director Cameron Crowe. So why is he scraping by on the Front Range, playing gigs on a cracked guitar?
Formed by geologic changes 300 million years ago and honed into an amphitheater by boys whom the Great Depression forced to become men, Red Rocks has been a storied destination for scientists, music lovers, tourists, performers—even pagans—from time immemorial. Since a city-ordained ban on rock 'n' roll ended in 1976, the acoustically perfect natural wonder has hosted more than 1,000 rock concerts, becoming a must-play arena for bands and a must-see marvel for spectators. What follows is a selection of treasured memories, relics, and recollections from people who have experienced Red Rocks' magnificence firsthand.
Chuck Morris arrived in Colorado planning to be a college professor. Instead, he's spent nearly 40 years making Denver a part of rock 'n' roll history. He's worked hard and at times played even harder. Now, backed by a conservative billionaire, Morris is singing a new tune.
These aren't your grandma's heirlooms.