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To be a fly on the wall: Bobby Long and Sam Bradley behind the scenes and off the stage (Part 1)
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All too often, the consequence of accomplishment can beguile the musical artist into a sense of polity far apart from what may have been a core of grace and self-surrender at the ambitious outset. Dreams and purpose become lost to scheduling, expectations, and fatigue.
This is not so for musicians Bobby Long and Sam Bradley.
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If ever there were a case of genuine solidarity of character and morality between the public face and the private soul, Bobby Long and Sam Bradley would be the lodestar.Marked with an undyingly loyal and keen fan-base (self-entitled the “Land of Dreamers,” from the lyrics of Bradley’s song, “Derek”), sold out shows across the United States and Canada between them, and eagerly anticipated forthcoming albums in the works, these two are no strangers to acclaim and recognition.
Yet, says Bobby Long, “Please don’t use the ‘c-word” (about “celebrity”), “and also refrain from using the f-word, too” (about “fame”). “We are artists, and in the most un-arrogant sort of way I say that,” says Long.
Bobby Long and Sam Bradley’s friendship, they explain, was a result of the happenstance of incident at Phil Taylor (Long’s manager)’s Up All Night Music Open Mic Night in London. Says Long, “we just got on really well from the very start.” Says Bradley, Bobby Long “is one of my very best friends.” That friendship has brought them together to Nashville, Tennessee to play in front of two sold-out audiences.
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To say that success is not a head-dweller for Bobby Long and Sam Bradley would be an exceptional understatement. The continuity of personality between the performance artists that they are on-stage and the individuals that they are after all the work is through only goes to show that they are, above all else, genuine, intelligent, and compassionate people. Bringing their lovely voices and messages to their devoted audiences, the faces that Bobby Long and Sam Bradley present to their fans are the very same ones they carry at three o’clock in the morning strategy sessions with their hard-working team. Walking into 3rd and Lindsley on the first night of their shared performance, the atmosphere of the entire place is decadent with peace and adoration. Hundreds of fans sit and stand in awe of the powerful radiance on-stage as Bobby Long strums his fingers across the strings and propels the inertia of his soul with the voice of each song. Between pieces, gentle anecdotes and off-the-cuff quips about his love of performance and the gratitude of his circumstance put smiles on the faces and warmth into the hearts of all within earshot.
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Not one moment goes by during Long’s presence on the stage that he does not remain composed and gentle. From the first song, Long has his audience captivated, and his magic is undeniable..jpg)
At the close of Long’s segment, Sam Bradley shoots to the stage with energy and vigor. Entertaining from the first moment, Bradley brings his sound with poignancy and enthusiasm. One of the favorite parts? Sam Bradley likes to take a few sips of whiskey along the way, especially when he gets to one of his very well-known songs “Whiskey.” Known for an exceptional ability to engage his audience from note one, as he stomps his feet, puns whimsically, and adds method to his magic at every step, Sam Bradley’s performance is one which keeps the audience completely satiated from the first to the last of his beautiful songs. The contrast between the two performers is instantly recognizable. While Long’s performance is subtle, controlled, and even-toned, Bradley’s is up-beat, enchanting, and dynamic. Yet, despite the distinctions, there is clearly a common animus between the two – love of people and music. The contrast may be rather stark, yet they are both completely absorbing in the same instance. Perhaps it is their candor with the crowd and each other that wraps their performance into one here, but, in the words of Sam Bradley it is “wicked,” no matter the reason.
When the last note is played, Bobby Long and Sam Bradley’s fans know that the night has not ended. They wait patiently as Bobby and Sam make their way outside to sign autographs, take photographs with them, and to have a few laughs and hugs. The crowd teems at the burgeoning brims of the porch, and fans begin to come at the two from all sides. Still, you see no sweat at the brows of these musicians, and they show no signs of even the subtlest impatience. Standing at Bobby Long’s side, and right in the midst of the throngs of people, is his manager and friend Phil Taylor, who, also, is a favorite of the fans and whose back Long can count on to press against to sign the next person in line’s photograph or notebook. Next to Bradley, friend Mark helps to keep the process moving.After a while longer, though, the crowd is not dissipating, and a decision has to be made. Bidding his adieu, Long makes his way to the car while Bradley continues to entertain the many fans left in the front of 3rd and Lindsley. After a brief tense moment, Bradley finally makes his way to the parking lot, jumping on the hood of one fan’s car along the way and shouting with hysteria and joy as he comes.
Typically, that would be the end to the story. Not this time.
Hunger has hit the artists and their team, and, though it’s nearly midnight, this is Nashville. The night is young. Donna, a resident of the area who plays host to the group at her beautiful three-story home, has suggested T.G.I.Friday’s, and, though the boys aren’t familiar with the chain, they are happy to go along with the offer.
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While Long and Bradley muse about their surroundings in the parking lot, Taylor urges us to go on. “On the road, there are no passengers,” says he as he hustles through the door. “Table for seven, please,” he tells the woman in red. When nothing is done and the rest of the group has caught up, Taylor takes initiative and begins to make his way to an un-bussed table, the first within eyesight that appears large enough. Upon his initiative, the table is quickly made ready, and we take a seat with Bobby Long and Sam Bradley near the front raring with energy coming off the success of their night.“Let’s do a shot,” suggests Sam. And so they do. One; then another. “Four whiskeys,” says Bobby to the disoriented waiter. Within moments, the laughter is paramount. Long and Bradley’s friendship is marked completely evident with the constant hugs and personal asides without hesitance.
A few moments later, standing outside while they take a cigarette break after the second shot, Long explains to Mark that when he was introduced to Sam, Robert Pattinson, and Marcus Foster by Phil Taylor, he was nervous because the three had a long-standing friendship dating back to their schooldays. Yet, says Bobby, he was welcomed to the group without incident, and they have been close ever since. When Mark shows interest in the fact that Sam and Bobby have not always been musicians, yet they are quite skilled and disciplined, Long explains, “I just looked at the guitar and said, ‘I will play you.’” Continues Long, “it’s a weird sort of work ethic. As soon as I’m done with one show, it’s like all I can think about is tomorrow - the next one.” Sealed with a sturdy embrace, Long and Bradley make their way back inside to sample the American chain restaurant cuisine that they have ordered.
Of the food, Bobby Long is taken aback by the portions and the heaviness of the food, but they dine furiously, wrought with hunger and fatigue despite their rapture. While the songs and merriment across the table ensue, Phil Taylor explains to me the effort that goes into the process. “Every flick of the hair, every time he laughs and thanks the crowd, it’s all a part of it,” he says, “the image.”
Explains Taylor, “we are building a team.” At his side is Alyce Hartman, Long’s publicist, whose eyes are never weary as she scans the situation with inspective restraint and caution. On the other end, friend Geri, who serves as the evening’s driver and assists them with sales of their CDs and photographs, sits idly, smiling silently at the goings-on that surround her. Donna, sitting by me, comments contemporaneously about how sweet they are, and how pleased she is to have them as her guests. “This is going to be big,” continues Taylor. “This guy,” he says of Bobby Long, “is going to be huge, and we’re prepared.”
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When the last shot is done, and the plates are cleared, we’re “off to the strip,” in Bradley’s words. On the way to the car, Taylor is taken aback by the name of a neighboring bank. “The Bank of Nashville,” it says. “It’s gotta be a joke, right? Is that a restaurant then?” he asks Donna as he whips out his camera and insists that Bradley and Long be photographed in front of it.
“I think it’s a bank,” she answers with a coy grin.
When Bradley is successful in scaling the short wall affront the bank, Long gives up, walking back to the car with a look of perturbation. “
"You didn’t hurt your hand, did you?” asks Taylor in sudden worry.
“No, just my knee,” answers Long with a laugh.
“Well, get up there, then,” says Phil Taylor, raising his camera once more.
When the photo is done, the night has gone chilly, and I have forgotten my coat.
“Are you cold, Amanda?” asks Bradley as he instantly rips off his jet black blazer and offers it to me with a smile.
Still unsure of where the night will take the group, as we make our way down Broadway, a cacophony of screams alerts us that they have been spotted. Above our heads, in the overhang of the nearby bar, fans and attendants of the show shout wildly at the sighting as cameras flash.
“F--k it. Let’s go in,” exclaims Bradley, as he smiles and makes his way to the door. Nodding his head, Bobby Long follows suit, and once in the door, they are back to work once more. “I’m sorry, but I’ll need my jacket back,” says Bradley apologetically as he looks over my shoulder eagerly at his awaiting audience.
As they make their way in, Long, Bradley, and Taylor are never more than a foot away from one of their fans, and they seem thrilled. Somewhere in the night, shivers and goose bumps find their way to my skin once more, but they are met instantly with Taylor’s chivalrous donation of his coat. Whoever said that gentlemen only existed in the south was clearly mistaken.
Without rest, they sign autographs, take more photographs, and sit down for conversations with their new friends as the night wears on. Lizzy, founder of the Land of Dreamers group, tells Bobby Long that her husband (in attendance at the show as well as the bar) is a little jealous of all of the time that she spends on them. When he offers to go and speak to her husband, she looks up to see that Sam Bradley is already posted up next to him, engrossed in a seemingly deep conversation.
By two o’clock in the morning, Long and Bradley are not weary, and so the story goes. By the time that the booze is done, and they find themselves back in Donna’s living room, the night has become saturated with the pleasantries of compliment between all involved, and it is time for serious discussion. While an hour before you’d have seen swarms of fans with their eager arms out-stretched to welcome the two into a warm embrace, now Long, Bradley, and their team are talking business and, more importantly, strategy.
Issues concerning the group include how long they should spend outside with fans after the show, where they should stand for the sake of efficiency, the size of the location, and more. Delving into the intricacies of each particularity at issue, the conversation rolls deep into the wee hours, and Bobby Long and Sam Bradley do not budge from their insistence that they get to spend as much time meeting the fans as possible. No matter the menial details of the next show, Bradley says “all my favorite people have played here [in Nashville], so it’s exactly where I want to be right now.”
After a run-through of the next day’s plans, Long and Bradley and the rest of the crew take their leave of the evening while Taylor settles down to the table with his laptop.
“This is when I start working,” he says with a grin as his hands strum across the keys.
The next afternoon, after Bobby has had a “really good” interview, entertained some of his fans at a scheduled meet-and-greet, and had a sit-down with an industry rep from a publishing company he “really want[s] to get on with,” and with Sam Bradley off on meetings with his own set of industry representatives, Phil and Bobby invite me out for a beer. Meeting up at “Trail West,” a country western clothing and shoe store, the two are striking in their day-time attire. Cloaked in a plaid long-sleeve shirt and a pair of very retro Ray-Bans, Long stretches out his arms to me for a welcoming embrace. Taylor, clad in a nice blazer and jeans fits the professional bill as well, and he is not far behind with his gentle hug and fluid, unrehearsed compliments.
Bobby Long’s eyes are heavy, but it is not forlornness that marks his current state – it is fatigue as the wear of the previous night’s length takes its toll. Yet, his mood carries no such indicia. Instead, he is eager, polite, and anxious for the new night – a product of his inexplicable work ethic, one might surmise. As we enter the first pub we see, he takes order of a soda while Taylor orders a beer.
Long tells me of the precariousness of a performing artist’s mindset. Says he, “it’s like your brain is split in two. On the one side,” he says placing his hand above his left eye, “you’re concentrating on the words, the notes of the song and your performance, and on the other,” pulling his hand to the right, “you’re watching the crowd, seeing their reactions, and hoping they’re enjoying your work.”
Long also tells me that the reason people haven’t heard from Marcus Foster in a while is because he is working on his sculpting. Also, he says that he doesn’t know if he could play the Twilight soundtrack song he and Foster wrote together (“Let Me Sign”) today if someone asked him. Later, he and Phil Taylor recap the day’s events and some of their plans for the evening before, finally, Long admits that he is “exhausted,” and would like some rest before the show.
Without hesitation, I offer the two a ride back to Donna’s house. Despite the length of his legs, Bobby fits nicely into the backseat of the compact rental car without complaint. Bobby doesn’t drive, he says, because he never really had to – between the public transportation availability in Europe and the former provision of rides by an old flame, he never learned.
Along the way, we discuss their experience in the United States. From food to politics, the two are consistent with their positivity about the country. About our president, Taylor says that he thinks it’s a great thing for us, that it has improved our image internationally, and that he hopes that he will be given a fair chance to prove himself. About the misconceptions held of Americans, they both agree that Americans are the most hospitable and lovely people. “I think that Americans are the nicest people in the world,” says Taylor. “Sometimes, when people do things, I keep thinking about how I can repay them for their generosity. That would be the case in London,” he continues.
... Continued on Part 2
Photos are courtesy of Phil Taylor and BackseatSandbar.com
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