THE POLISHED SHORT VERSION BIO
Blending acoustic guitar and smooth vocals, Greg Winkler performs a variety of original acoustic music from upbeat and humorous songs to passionate ballads. Like James Taylor and Mac Davis before him, Greg writes ex [+]THE POLISHED SHORT VERSION BIO
Blending acoustic guitar and smooth vocals, Greg Winkler performs a variety of original acoustic music from upbeat and humorous songs to passionate ballads. Like James Taylor and Mac Davis before him, Greg writes extraordinary songs about ordinary things. Greg has released two CDs, "Raw Apples," home grown in January of 2001 and the folk pop "Road to Mountains" in December, 2002. He was also a finalist in the 2002 NSAI-Milwaukee Live Song Contest.
Rhythmic strumming, fingerstyle arrangements, and compelling original melodies complement Greg's simple and powerful lyrics. His interactions with the audience make his performances engaging and entertaining, and you may hear a groaner or two as Greg laments the comedy career that he never had.
Greg has lived on the outskirts of Edgerton for ten years and has performed publicly since 1997. He started his music career as a thirty-something social worker and has played at coffee houses, clubs, fairs, and festivals across south central Wisconsin.
THE REST OF THE STORY
In my heart, I have been a musician all my life. I started drum lessons in 4th grade using a round rubber pad about the size of my brother's head. The imagery was good, but you can only convince a 4th grader to play a rubber pad for so long before the novelty wears off. I think I lasted one week.
The following year, I was introduced to the guitar, and I can't really remember how. I know that my neighbor, Sherry Something, took lessons and I started taking lessons from her teacher. I have pretty much blocked out the Mary Had a Little Lamb stage, but I have a vivid memory of fidgeting around a recliner in the family room of our Naperville, IL home, faced with the horrible triad of chords that comprised "This Land is Your Land." My mother was pretending to clean the room while her true purpose was to leash me to that chair until I spent at least 30 minutes trying to squish my fingers into an impossible A chord. This Land is a Dictatorship!
I suppose the power struggle ended soon afterwards because that is my only memory of being forced to play the guitar. In fact, when I learned "Top of the World" (Rainy Days was actually my favorite, but you can't have everything), I was scheduled to pla
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