About Music Fan Magazine

Music Fan Magazine was created by Jim and Justine Brown, lifelong music enthusiasts who've been together, in the pit and in the front row at concerts across America for decades.

Whether it is smoky clubs, sprawling festivals, or packed arenas across the country, we've experienced the thrill of discovering new artists and the joy of seeing our longtime favorites evolve over the years.

We figured a magazine dedicated to showcasing current artists on tour, the best venues around and giving your our unique insights wouldn’t be a bad thing. That’s why Music Fan Magazine just gives you the scoop on the shows you want to see and the people that put it on. No politics. No lifestyle pieces. No marketing bullshit. Let’s talk about the music!

Jim Brown:

As a kid growing up in Alaska on an actual dirt road, we didn't get many musical acts visiting town. That was until 1984 when the almighty Kenny Rogers came to town and packed the local arena with what seemed like half the town. Mom took me. What a great show, the first always is.

I wasn't allowed to go to concerts by myself until I was 16, so when George Thorogood and the Destroyers came to the Egan Convention center in 1986 I was front row in the pit smashing elbows and crushing beers with hardcore blue collar oil field workers. That show was my door opening to live music. I still have that special ticket stub ($18).

Landing in California in the late 80’s elevated everything. Cal Expo, Candlestick Park, The Cattle Club, The Press Club and the most surprising of all...The El Dorado Saloon where Bush, Seven Mary Three and lots of other bands passed through in the late 80s and 90s. I was there. Justine and I were there. My buddies and I were there when we weren’t hanging out at the AM/PM parking lot. Tickets were $20 at BASS ticket outlets, which was generally attached to the Tower Record Store. Those were the days.

Fast forward through the years and Justine and I became three. Did we bother to find a sitter for our 6-year-old daughter when Toad the Wet Sprocket came to San Francisco and played a sold out set at Slims? No. We did not. Instead, we took Emilie, threw her up on my shoulders and had a great time, ended up hanging out with Glen Phillips and the guys afterward, and they happily signed a set list for Emilie's growing collection.

We like music. We will drive all night to see a quality show. We like supporting the folks that make the music. We are music fans. We have been for a long long time and this is our way of sharing our perspective and staying involved with music . Hope you enjoy our comments on the tours coming through your area!

Most of all, I hope you enjoy the photos included in our stories. The effort given to get these shots is more than one would think. Navigating AV cords at the front of stage, keeping my gear free of spilled beer and ultimately putting my work in front of the artist to be judged…well its really special when it all works out and I get the shot the artist likes.

Thank you for tuning into our adventure and hope to see you at the show!

Photography first

Justine Brown:

In our house, music was the heartbeat of family life. Though none of us could play an instrument to save our lives, we were a clan of passionate listeners and enthusiastic—if not always in-tune—singers. My childhood soundtrack was a rich tapestry of country western and folk pioneers like Willie Nelson, Kris Kristofferson, Bob Dylan, John Prine, Dolly Parton and Hank Williams Sr. At the time, I didn't fully appreciate this musical education, but those melodies were quietly taking root.

Money was often tight in our three-kid household, but somehow Dad always managed to scrape together enough to keep us on the cutting edge of audio technology. Our prized possession was a towering stack of 8-tracks, ready to transport us to new auditory worlds at the push of a button. I remember my mom laying out some of her hard-earned cheddar she earned from a temp job to buy a Country Western anthology one year – those records were played on regular rotation.

As I grew older, my musical horizons expanded, influenced by my sisters' eclectic tastes. Our house reverberated with the soaring vocals of REO Speedwagon, the thunderous riffs of Led Zeppelin, the laid-back California sound of the Eagles, and the theatrical rock operas of Styx. But my musical journey wasn't without its bumps. I still cringe remembering the day my sisters seven and nine years my senior—caught me belting out a disco tune I'd picked up from a K-Tel commercial (possibly Gloria Gaynor's "I Will Survive"). Their synchronized cry of "You like Disco?!" hit me like a ton of bricks. You'd have thought I'd announced my engagement to David Lee Roth (as if—my heart belonged to Shaun Cassidy). Utterly mortified and suddenly aware of music's social implications, I vowed never to hum that melody again.

award winning words

Through my adolescence and into my college years, when hair metal and grunge reigned supreme, music remained my constant companion. When I met Jim, our shared passion for live concerts became one of the foundations of our relationship. Together, we've built a life punctuated by the rhythm of drum beats and guitar riffs, creating a personal history measured in setlists and ticket stubs. Now, watching our daughter inherit this love of music, we feel a sense of continuity, of passing on a cherished family tradition.

While my musical tastes have always been diverse, I've found myself increasingly drawn to the Americana sound in recent years. The raw authenticity of artists like Drayton Farley, Two Runner, Jason Isbell, Bella White and Josiah and the Bonnevilles resonates with me. It seems those early country and western seeds, planted so long ago in our music-filled home, have blossomed into a full-grown appreciation.

Oh yeah, I also got a gig working with Bill Kreutzmann's horses back in Mendocino in the early 80s. While I was too young to join the drummer of the Grateful Dead on tour, (had middle school commitments, after all), it was a great experience and something to remind me that rock stars are just people like the rest of us.