The following article is from the 9/9/01 Spokesman Review (Spokane, WA's news paper) (thanks Jewel and Diana).

Mead High School graduate Myles Kennedy of The Mayfield Four has a role in the new movie "Rock Star" - a heavy metal fan nicknamed Thor, God of Thunder.

This Thor doesn't wield a hammer, Doug Clark says, but he's pretty handy with the ax.

True story: Spokane rocker makes good
by Doug Clark

His name is actually Myles Kennedy, but friends will soon be calling him Thor, God of Thunder.

It's a sure bet the ribbing will come now that "Rock Star," a major motion picture starring Mark Wahlberg and Jennifer Aniston, has opened in multiplexes across America.

Myles, Spokane rocker and lead singer of The Mayfield Four, appears in a hilarious scene near the movie's end. He plays, Mike, adoring leather-clad heavy metal music fan, who catches Wahlberg's attention during a concert and ...

It would be cheesy to give too much away. The moment is, well, sort of pivotal.

But the line that could stick to Myles (you know, the way that "don't give a damn" think followed Gable around) is the introduction he makes to Wahlberg's character, Chris Cole:

"My name's actually Mike, but my friends call me Thor, God of Thunder."

Definitely the kind of boffo nickname a guy's buddies won't let slip away.

"When Andy Warhol said that everone would have 15 minutes of fame, he didn't say we would get it wearing a wig and eyeliner," says Myles, 31, flashing a self-conscious grin.

What a week it's been for my friend.

It started last Tuesday in Hollywood. There he was, attending the "Rock Star" debut along with all the other Tinsel Town celebs like Wahlberg, Aniston and her hunka-hunka hubby, Brad Pitt.

Then it was back home in time for the not-quite-so-gala Spokane premiere. Myles accepted my invitation to attend Friday's 2p.m. showing at River Park Square.

We sat in the upper section in theater 17. Joining us were about two dozen noncelebrities who apparently didn't have better to do with their sunny afternoon.

"I don't know if I can watch this next part," Myles whispered to me a moment before his scene.

As usual, he was being overly critical of himself. In fact, Myles nailed it. He comes off as one of the more enjoyable minor characters and helps lift the movie's very draggy second half.

His chiseled, handsome face and lean frame are made for the silver screen.

After the credits rolled, Myles seemed a bit stunned.

He's played before 10,000 people without a bit of stage fright, and now, "My hands are sweaty and I'm hyperventilating."

"I'm more shocked seeing it in Spokane than I was being in L.A. with Brad Pitt sitting behind me. Now I'm home and I'm watching myself. It's weird."

Despite his void of acting credentials, Myles landed an audition thanks to music industry connection. Being Thor called for some high-note virtuosity, which, as anyone who has heard Myles sing can verify, was no problem.

It was Myles' vocal chops, as much as anything, that landed him a multirecord deal with Epic about four years ago. The Mayfield Four became one of the few Spokane rock bands to be signed by a major label.

Two albums later - "Fallout" and "Second Skin" - Myles finds himself in a bit of an introspective mood. The music biz is extraordinarily difficult, and it shows every now and then in his pale blue eyes.

Every kid with a band would sell his momma to get signed like Myles. What they don't know, he says, is that only 2 or 3 percent of those signed bands ever become the big record sellers.

It hasn't happened to The Mayfield Four. Yet.

"Any kid who takes this on as his dream," he says with a bit of a sign, "the odds are stacked against him."

Ah, but who can stop such a dream?

Flash back five years. Myles was teaching guitar lessons in a back room at Rock City Music. I was one of his loyal students.

What many die-hard Mayfield Four fans don't know is that the lead singer/ songwriter is a guitar god. He doesn't play guitar solos in the band, but trust me, his six-string skills are pyrotechnically brilliant.

We spent one of our last lessons thinking of names for this new group he was putting together. He liked Cereal Junkie. Sombrero Bob and the Salsa Smugglers got laughs, but wasn't a serious contender.

I submitted a few unprintable possibilities, but then what the heck do I know about band names?

The next time I saw him The Mayfield Four was etched in cement. Not long after that, Myles quit giving me guitar lessons and began signing contracts.

Success couldn't come to a sweeter guy. The son of a minister father (Glenn) and schoolteacher mom (Carol), Myles, who graduated from Mead High School, lacks any of those jerky, ego-driven characteristics that run rampant in performance arts.

Myles has met more than a few of those big-name rockers with attitude. He's come away disgusted. "What drives them isn't the love of the music," he says, "it's the love of themselves."

Still and all, that dream to be a real-life rock star isn't going away anytime soon.

"Yeah, it's cool," Myles says of the ride he's been on. "I can't complain."