There are times that I enjoy writing a ton. The subject alone is my drug of choice. I’m addicted to learning about new bands and discovering new music. I scour the web in search of bands, blogs, and whatever I can get my hands on.
Tonight is not one of those times …
It is with a bitter sense of irony that my drug of choice leads me to the heart-wrenching news of Mike Starr’s untimely passing here in Utah. He–the original bassist of Alice in Chains–was found dead today in a house in Salt Lake of an apparent overdose on prescription drugs.
What saddens me the most is that he struggled mightily with this addiction, to the point where he had a spot on some celebrity rehab show to hopefully help him kick his addiction. Obviously, that didn’t pan out so well. Where was the love? the support? the help?
I know of one tweeter who I stumbled across while reading various twitter posts about how he and AIC’s music meant so much to so many. He specifically reached out TO HER to help her with her addiction. He tried to help others overcome their demons. This is the kind of soul that was taken from the earth today.
I’m not here to judge. It’s not my place to say how hard he did or didn’t try … mainly because a) it simply isn’t my place to judge, and b) I have no idea how hard he tried. But shit like this burns me up so much because ANY addiction is pure poison–be it heroin, pain killers … music ….. that which you cannot overcome has the potential to destroy you–physically, mentally, spiritually, psychologically … but beyond the self-inflicted is the pain that is felt by everyone within whatever spheres you find yourself. Or would find yourself, were you not so totally and utterly into whatever it is that weighs upon you.
Mike was taken from us way too early. 44 is a ridiculously young age. His talent on bass was undeniable. Want proof? Listen to “I Stay Away” off of Jar of Flies. One of my favorite bass lines of all time. Or “Would” and “Rain When I Die” from Dirt. Amazing bass lines. He PLAYED. He didn’t go all Les Claypool or Flea on his instrument; he made that bass purr and croon.
It’s sad. He was a hell of a bass player. I wish him well in the after life.
Once upon a time, there was a mystical, magical channel that played *NOTHING* but music. Not only did this channel play music … the music was accompanied by a short movie that generally coincided with the length of the song. This was called a “video.” This channel played videos by all kinds of bands: pop, top 40, rock, metal, alternative, new wave, grunge … just about every genre was represented.
That was then. This is now. Notice anything? Or, more accurately stated, do you notice the absence of anything? Like … MUSIC? Not one show in there has anything to with actual music. There may or may not be musical celebrities attached in some nebulous way to one or two of the shows … but that’s it.
Do you remember the days where Kurt Loader would get us pumped up for the newest [insert band name here] video? Where the hell did Kennedy go? Or Matt Pinfield?
To be fair, I’m sure this is the result of the natural progression of stupidity as a bunch of marketers sat around and decided to “branch out”–trying new show here, throwing in a game show there … but at least the game show/s was/were music related! Hell, even some of the more recent shows (e.g. Pimp My Ride, whatever that “crib” show was) at least occasionally managed to squeeze in a musical artist. Anymore, and it’s “Jersey Shore” and “Skins” that are the channel’s “A-list” shows. And we sit around and wonder why it is that kids are becoming less intelligent.
Whatever. I choose not to even pause on “M”TV anymore because I’m 100% positive that there’s nothing there that could possibly pique my interest. There hasn’t been for years; why would anything change?
Yes, you read that right–relaxing evening with Metallica. Garage Days Re-Revisited. Well, the Garage Inc. Version, anyway. Lots more songs on it than the 5.98 EP, so it works for me.
Is it wrong that I still loathe Bob Rock for taking their incredible sound and literally destroying it? I mean, … and Justice for All was just so amazing, regardless of what Jason Newsted being relegated to almost non-existence. At least for that CD. I don’t know. The black album had some gems, but … it really was the beginning of the end, and for 17 years, they tried denying it. The black album, Load, Reload … just weren’t anything special. Again, some good songs, but … that’s it. It was extremely difficult to listen to those two CDs all the way through without skipping at least half the tracks. Compare that to Kill ’em All,Ride the Lightning, Master of Puppets, and Justice. Every single song on those 4 CDs are winners. Well, okay … if we’re being totally honest and open, Kill ’em All had a few relative duds, but those “duds” still kicked ass over most anything on the 3 aforementioned weak CDs.
St. Anger … what? Does anyone even talk about that CD? Seriously?
Their saving grace from the ultimate “Fade to Black” was writing Death Magnetic. While it definitely shows James’ age and voice deterioration, it also shows that they still have some balls left. I’ve written a review of the whole CD a while back, so no need to rehash it here. It just amazes me that after … I don’t know. They didn’t quite suck cuz they did have some great songs, and hoorah to them for trying to branch out. I just don’t think it worked out in their favor. They might have been commercially wildly successful. That doesn’t mean they were good. Not in my book.
Anyway, ever since I was in high school, I’ve always found some soothing element in listening to Metallica. I can’t explain it. Pantera doesn’t have that affect. Iron Maiden doesn’t either. No other metal-style band does. Of course, artists like Azam Ali, Marissa Nadler, Sarah Fimm … of course they have a soothing and relaxing effect. They’re *supposed* to. So go figure. Not sure what the deal is. Don’t care, either. 😉
Speaking of Photomatix, these HDR images aren’t gonna tweak themselves.
According to the Meyers-Briggs personality test, I am a EFNJ. That’s interesting, considering I do like to share my opinion and thoughts on stuff, and not just about music. Hmm.
I agree with some of the points, but according to the percentage scale, I’m only 11% extrovert. That’s a load of crap.
It’s no secret that I didn’t have the best relationship with my dad. The history is long, complicated, and as of September 2006, over. He died of cancer in the Twin Cities area of Minnesota. He left me and my brother behind, along with his wife and my sister. By the time the end rolled around, we had patched things up and mended our bridges … but things were never quite the same as before.
Long before we made our concerted efforts to stay in contact, I had become aware of Harry Chapin’s “Cat’s in the Cradle” song. I don’t remember what I thought of the song the first time I heard it because I was in high school, and “the bomb” hadn’t dropped at that point. However, I do remember the effects of hearing that song for the first time after the bomb had gone off … and it wasn’t pretty. At all. In fact, it still gives me chills just thinking about it.
If you’re not familiar with the song, I … hmm. I would recommend listening to it, but at the same time, I would *strongly* caution that you brace yourself for an emotional storm that you may not be prepared to weather. They lyrics are potent, and they will over-run you if you are caught unaware. Even Harry Chapin said that this song scares him to death.
I have an incredibly up-and-down love/hate relationship with this song. I hate the fact that it reduces me to a puddle of tears just listening to the opening guitar plucking. I also hate the fact that I’m scared shit-less of failing in my responsibilities as a parent. Do I spend enough time with my kids? Am I “that dad”? I’d like to think that the answer is a resounding “NO.” I try to spend time with them. I love sitting with them and watching them do their insanely crazy little things that they do. I love watching them watch something like a documentary (e.g. Planet Earth, Life, etc) because they totally soak it in. I love being with my kids. I don’t think that I put them off very often, and when I do, it’s because I have something that I’m working on. Most of the time. Yah, sometimes I need some quiet, alone time. Every parent does. My wife especially does cuz she’s with them all day. But for the most part, I work very hard to NOT BE the father in the song.
However, I also love this song for the very reason that it *does* drive me to break the cycle. I want to be a better dad than what I had growing up because of this song. Yet, back to the hate-part of the relationship, I hate feeling like I need a motivation to want to be with my kids. I DON’T need that motivation, yet … I find myself coming back to these lyrics whenever I feel like I’m not spending enough time with them. Do you know what I mean? Cuz if you do, you’re probably two steps ahead of me.
So there it is: the love/hate relationship.
Now … to be fair, I think one of the reasons that I become so emotional over Harry Chapin’s version is because it’s so hauntingly melodic. The music itself is like a dagger piercing the heart with every pained word. The Ugly Kid Joe version of this song doesn’t have the same effect on me. However, I often find myself drawn to their version for a number of reasons. For one, their sound is nearly perfect for it. Grungy, dirty, distorted guitar riffs; heavy, weighted sounds; Whit Crane’s grueling, gutteral, gritty vocals that bring out the agony and pain that the song so vividly portrays … I could listen to that version a lot easier than Mr. Chapin’s comparative crooning.
So why discuss this song? Where is this coming from?
Oddly, it was quote in a church sermon I heard today. Not just a snippet or a stanza …it was the whole song. And as the guy speaking kept quoting, I found myself having a harder and harder time fighting back the tears. By the time he got to the last part of the song, I couldn’t see straight. My eyes were stinging, my body was shaking from trying to hold back the sobs. My 5 year old daughter noticed my distress, and without saying a word, she just crawled up on my lap and whispered, “Don’t worry, daddy. It will be okay!”, at which point I just flat-out lost it. I gave her the biggest hug, and let it all flow out. My poor kids … they have no idea how messed up their daddy is when it comes to actually being a parent. It scares me to death to think that I’m going to screw this up and let them down somehow. I know the effect it can have on a kid, and I cannot have my girls go through that.
If any of you out there have kids, or if any of you are that kid in the song, break the cycle. Be the one to step up and say, “We’re better than this.” You have precisely one life. Nothing can be gained by not mending fences, or at least trying to mend them. Be you the parent or the child … it’s never too late to attempt to fix the past and say that, from this moment forward, the past is just that–the past. Move past the hate and resentment and push through to the forgiveness and love. Just do it.
So, to be fair, I’m not at all familiar with Black Eyed Peas. I don’t even know if they use a definite article to define themselves. That’s how unfamiliar I am with them. So it’s with a very large salt lick that I feel qualified to write this review. I hate it when you open the paper to read a review of the <insert favorite band name here>concert you attended the night before, only to read a less-than-favorable article because the write has no clue who the band is or any songs they play. So I’m trying to be favorable here for what I saw.
I guess I know more than I thought. I do know that Will.I.Am and Fergie are in the band, so … there’s that. However, no idea what they sing.
Gah. Ya know what? Forget it. I don’t know them, I don’t particularly care for their stuff, and that’s just … it. That’s fact.
The best part of the half time show? The dancers off-stage who had those color-changing suits. All of us watching decided that we need to find a way to get those suits for us, then we’re gonna go dancing. Cuz really … who could resist a light-up suit?!
I will say this: they are extremely high energy. If all you’re looking for in your music is something to shake your booty to, then these guys need to be near the top of your playlist. You will shake yo’ ass until yo’ ass falls off! Like I said, I don’t really care for their stuff, but even I wanted to get up and jump around (jump around!). Ha ha ha. I slay myself.
Usher. I …
No … it’s not worth it.
So that’s that. Another half time show come and gone.
That’s right. We’ve taken the next step. Don’t see why not, right?
Wanna check it out? Feel free. I’m also gonna try to add some widgety code stuff to this site to link back to Facebook. We’ll see how that works. I’m betting it doesn’t. 🙂
Bronchitis. Hence the no-post Sunday. Kind of irritates me cuz I had a sweet streak going. Oh well. Just have to post more later.
Sorry if this post is lame. Probably is, being that I’m all under the weather like. So it’s off to bed. Hopefully, tomorrow will be a better day.
It is also Wayne Gretzky’s birthday. He’s infinitely more cool than I could ever hope to be. I mean, hi … he’s The Great One. And for a good reason. Oddly, I didn’t know that he and I share the same birthday until today. Also, I assumed he was lightyears older than I am. Not quite so.
I *did* know that I share this special “dia do nascimento” (as say the Portuguese. And Brazilians.) with one Edward Van Halen. Yes–the very same. The guitar viruoso that brought tapping to the forefront. He of “Eruption” fame. Eddie. The chants were deafening. I only got to see him twice, both in support of their For Unlawful Carnal Knowledge CD. For all of you with sensitve eyes, don’t try to make an acronym out of that. You’ll probably cry.
The first time I saw Van Halen was in August of 1991. My buddies Eric, Steve, and Jeff and I all drove from western New York to Akron Ohio to see them at the beautiful Blossom Music Center. Opening for them was this long-haired, weird sounding freak show that only seemed interested in swinging their heads of long hair around such that their mops would flail around in circles. It looked ridiculous. Oh. And the lead singer? Just sat on a stool. Well, bar stool. Not poop. But yah. Just sat there, wearing sunglasses and sporting short blond hair. They didn’t make it very far into their set before we booed them off stage. I do believe some gesticulations of an avian nature were directed in our direction. By “our,” I mean the entire crowd. Or at least a vast majority of us.
The band? No other than Alice in Chains.
Oh how I hang my head in shame … truly we deserved the bird we were given. In hindsight, I wish we had been more open-minded–more understanding … more tolerant. How is that for a microcosm of how life should be lived?
Alas, we were not. Oh well. Live and learn.
So ANYway, I celebrate my day with Edward. Which made me wonder what’s going on with the band. For those of you familiar with their discography, you’ll know that, after Dave’s departure, they recorded 4 CDs with Sammy Hagar and one with Gary Cherone. Take a look at their website. See the background image? It scrolls through I, II, Women and Children First, Fair Warning, Diver Down, and 1984, then cycles back to I. WHERE are 5150, OU812, For Unlawful Carnal Knowledge, Balance, and III?! Do those albums no longer exist in Dave’s, Alex’s, and Eddie’s minds? Did they not make those albums? But where are they?
You know, I’m all for giving the band their due. They were a great, great party band. They were exciting, Eddie was and is an insane guitarist, Alex is … well, he’s a drummer, but he’s not that great. Wolfgang is … what. 19? And ignore the fact that “Diamond Dave” is so far past his prime that he’s become a caricature of himself when he tries to perform. I don’t know … it just seems childish and petty to ignore the music they made with Sammy and Gary under the Van Halen name. If I go out to Amazon, those CDs are still available because they were made. I just don’t get the immaturity factor. “Ohhhh … we had a rift with Sammy, and no one liked III, so let’s pretend those don’t exist.”
FACT: they’ve had more rifts with David Lee Roth than they EVER did with Sammy. Not to mention that Gary Cherone left the band on amicable terms. There’s no drama there. So … what the hell.
I don’t know. If, for whatever reason, I just happened to be listening to the radio, and a Van Halen song came on, I don’t think I’d necessarily kick it off. I don’t have any on my phone or ipod, so I don’t think any will becoming through my playlist any time soon … but I just don’t see myself reverting back to a point where I swoon over them like I once did. Their time has come and gone.
I could buy new faucets for every sink in our house, since every sink could use a new faucet.
I could put more money in savings.
I could save money and go to Portugal in a couple of years.
But I’m not. I’m taking new band suggestions and advice from a guy I’m pretty sure I’ve never met in real life, and I’m buying CDs left and right. Like … a lot of CDs.
For example, he recommended that I check out Sambassadeur on YouTube. Specifically, this song and this song. I’m very much liking these guys.
So … who are they? All I know is that they’re a Swedish duo that’s been around since about 2002. They have 3 full-length CDs and 2 EPs, all of which are being shipped to my house within the next week. That’s just kind of how I do things.
In addition to the 450+ CD auction, I’ve won a few others as well. All told, I’m getting something like 550-600 CDs in the mail over the next couple of weeks. The question now is … where am I gonna put all of them? I think I have a solution.
In our basement, we have a wood burning stove that has never once burned anything. Not for longer than half a minute, anyway. It’s pretty useless. It just takes up space and lets in cold air in the winter. The wife and I have talked about getting rid of it and turning the area into a media storage rack for our CDs and DVD/Blu-rays. It would certainly hold everything. And it’d look really nice, too. I might even make it myself, but we’ll see. I’m not that great at making stuff, so I’d probably contract out the shelf-building. We’ll see.
So yah. The budget has taken a pretty serious hit the last week. But I bet I can make it all back plus some with the rejects that go to Graywhale or Gamestop. We’ll see.
When I was in high school, I would stay up late and read Steven King books. Carrie, It, Pet Semetary … I read tons and tons of the Master of the Macabre. When I was done, I’d be all wired and wide awake. Unable to sleep, I’d throw on my headphones and cycle through tape after tape after tape. UK Subs, the Cult, Van Halen, Boston, Journey … hey, I never said I always had the greatest taste.
So there I’d lie, wide awake. What could I do? Where could I turn for rest and relaxation?
“… and Justice for All.”
“Master of Puppets.”
“Ride the Lightning.”
How it was possible that James, Kirk, Lars, Cliff, and Jason were able to lull me to sleep is beyond me, but it never failed to do the job. How’s that for bizarre?