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"Shangri-La La Land"

In the smoky living room of an old stagecoach stop-turned-airbnb five hours north of Los Angeles, five east coast transplants sat behind their instruments contemplating band names. They had left LA for North Fork that morning, hoping that a week away from the usual sunny distractions would help them focus and finish writing their first album. They were already distracted.

That night, they took another break from writing and strolled into town. As they approached the one building with it's lights on, two Rottweilers tied to the back of a jacked up mud truck began howling, lunging at them. Against better judgement, they continued on and made their way up to the front door.

The bar was surprisingly lively, but the out of towners were greeted with a mix of colds stares and whispers. A heavily tatooed ex-marine-turned-bartender finally cut the tension, shouting over the jukebox, "YOU GUYS IN A BAND OR SOMETHING?"

The band doubled down, made their way to the bar, and ordered a round. One by one, the locals let down their guard and sparked up conversations inquiring about the band.

By the end of the night, they booked their first show ever - a three hour set of covers and originals to be played at the bar on the band's last night in town, five days away.

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The first gig is now the stuff of local legend in North Fork. Midway through the third set, appropriately in the middle of the Petty classic "Refugee," two thirds of a packed bar emptied into the parking lot, the other third pressed up against the windows in the back of the bar. "All of a sudden, the place was empty," guitarist Joe Guese says, "I thought maybe we had finally worn out our welcome, or worse, maybe we were just terrible?" Unsure of what was happening, the band played on.

A few minutes later, the ex-marine bartender ran inside gesturing wildly, shouting for the shotgun. "Refugee" in full swing. A couple minutes later, three shirtless, adrenaline-filled locals stumbled in blood-soaked, b-lining their way to the bathroom. Holding the smoking gun, the bartender followed and locked the door behind them. Looking around in disbelief, the band played on.

"They ended up shutting it down and locking us all in after the gun fight. I joke all the time about barely surviving gigs, but that was a special one," singer Casey Shea jokes. "Grand Canyon could easily have been one of those bands you've never heard of," laughing to himself, "as a matter of fact, we probably are."

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Their first LA shows were held under the cover of darkness at The Overpass; don't go looking for it, it's no longer there. The shows typically started at 3AM, just as things started to get interesting in the LA underground. They continued playing unpublicized gigs around town, honing in on their sound and developing an electric show that consistently wins over casual music fans and the most jaded musicians. By taking their playing and songwriting more seriously than themselves, they leave audiences not only entertained but longing for a time long gone.

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In an era of computer-made, beat-driven music, Grand Canyon is the antithesis of modern pop music. However, by focusing on musicianship and timeless songwriting, and drawing on the inspiration of the classic sounds and arrangements of the 70s, it is the kind of pop music that will be wafting through the canyons for a long time.

The Los Angeles based rock and roll band, fronted by Casey Shea (guitar/vocals) and Amy Wilcox (vocals), and driven by Joe Guese (guitar), Darice Bailey (keys, vocals), Jon Cornell (bass), and Fitz Harris (drums) has self-recorded a debut album to be released Fall 2018.

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