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BYALICEBRITTON
Oh, what company they keep! Spotted this weekend at a downtown club in Nashville, country music’s most infamous former starlet, Lorelai Jones, drinking cocktails with none other than country music’s darling, Annie Mathers, while the pair watched Jefferson Coolidge (né Clay Coolidge) play a set on stage. While it’s unclear whether the pair of crooners were trading industry secrets or kisses, they did surprise the busy Saturday evening crowds with a last-minute rendition of Britney Spears’s “Toxic,” even, one insider shares, calling themselves Neil Young’s Bitches, no doubt a tongue-in-cheek reference to Jones’s fall from grace after singing Mr. Young’s “Ohio” some years… (cont.)
Comments (2354)
chickenLILI was there! Their performance of “Toxic” was brilliant and I’m pretty sure Annie Mathers is dating Jefferson Coolidge still, NOT Lorelai Jones. Though I would love that.
FabriceducationFree Lorelai!
LlamaLlamaMelodramaWonder where Drake Colter was?
JesusISourLordandSaviorRepent, sinners!
SharkWeekIsMyFaveMy cousin was there and he said Lorelai was seen hugging Craig Boseman.
ChestertheInvestorI was today years old when I realized “Jonesin’” was written by Craig Boseman and not Drake Colter and now Boseman and Jones are being seen together?!
JunieBNot only that, I heard he’s producing her next record…
MusicFirstPromote this @jaslkn45
28CRAIG
ALL I SEE IS YOU
We finish recording Lorelai’s album, titledAvalanche,late Wednesday night. One of the hottest nights of the summer so far. It’s a whopping sixteen songs, but there was a method to my madness. We recorded twelve new tracks, almost all written by Lorelai or at very least cowritten, as is the case with the duet we teased first that’s being featured on both Lorelai’s and Coolidge’s “debuts.” We also included a couple of popular stragglers, officially releasing them this time, as part of the entire collection of Lorelai’s solo work, including “What They Have,” which she wrote for Shelby and Cameron, and a rerecorded studio cut of “Ohio.”
The way I figure, after a lengthy meeting with Lorelai and her new boss-manager Trina Hamilton, there are only two options forward if she wants to reinvent herself. One, the bullshit apology tour where she was forced to pretend she was someone she wasn’t, who was sorry for somethingshe wasn’t sorry for. (The route exactly no one wanted to go down again.) Or two, embrace what happened, stand proud, and hold tight to your principles, then create a fucking brilliant piece of art that no one can argue against.
Honestly, it was the easiest album I’ve ever worked on. Even if I didn’t miss the hell out of seeing her naked, I would still jump at the chance to record all her records. She’s a professional through and through and primed and ready to take back what’s been owed her.
I don’t know if country music radio will accept her. They’d be fucking idiots not to, but that’s out of my control. What Idoknow, with absolute certainty, is it won’t matter in the end. Because everyone else will accept her.
I’m closing up the studio alone. Lorelai is headed to the airport to pick up Maren and I’ve already sent Arlo home for the night. He and Dr. Josh have started their prenatal parenting classes at the hospital so they can learn how to change diapers and… well. Other important stuff, I’m sure.
My phone rings and I grin, answering right away. “Hey, D, what’s up?”
My nephew hedges, “Nothing much. Just felt like calling to say hi.”
I turn off the lights to the studio and lock the door behind me before heading for my still-lit office at the end of the hall. “Everything okay? You sound a little down tonight. Too much Fortnite?”
“Maybe. I’m bored.”
I bite back a snort. Oh, to be bored. Whatthatmust feel like.
“Ah. Let me guess. Your mom told you to hit me up for entertainment.”
My sister’s muffled voice in the background confirms it, but I don’t mind.
“Kind of. I was watching this show on TV and they do pottery and stuff and Mom said you have a studio. I was thinking I wanted to try it and maybe you could teach me.”
I sink into my chair and work to swallow around the tightness in my throat, a little baffled at my own reaction. Then again, wasn’t this exactly how I was twenty-five years ago? Calling up my great-uncle and begging to go out to the cabin with him? It was about art, sure. But it was also about wanting to spend time with a man I admired. Besides, what I lacked in pottery skills I made up for in fishing, and Uncle Huck never cared.
Fucking a. I swipe at damp eyes and clear my throat. Hell, it’s been a long month.
“Yeah, D. I do. It’s pretty rustic out there, though. Like camping, basically. You sure you don’t want to try a nicer place in the city?”
“Um. Well. I guess I don’t care, but I don’t mind camping,” he offers, sounding excited. “That could be fun.”
