Take a towel, a cooler, and a radio to the beach and you are just another body kicking up sand, adding to the din; destined to be quietly resented by those around you as their precious real-estate diminishes. Beach towels, you see, are not welcome mats: jealously guarded, sovereign states they are; personal and portable autonomies. Take a guitar to the beach, on the other hand, and the boundaries seem to generously disappear; and not just those imaginary lines in the sand, but the very real social ones too.
Incidentally, these observations are completely unrelated to the name of the band; anyhow...
Whether it was on a sandy lakeside boulevard or an inner-city street corner, I spent a great deal of my youth strumming and singing amidst a close concavity of random passersby. Folks would come together, seemingly oblivious of their petty differences and prejudices; well, until I'd put the guitar down anyway... So I just kept picking it back up.
From the very first time I mustered the courage to play guitar for my friends around a campfire (a desperate attempt to impress some girl, no doubt), to every crowd I've had the privilege of entertaining since, the spectacle has basically remained the same... And thus, so have my motives for making music.
Those motives being 'free beer' and 'chicks', of course!