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.

RIP, Mike.