April 5
My dad died on April 5, 1990 when I was 16 years old. He died of a massive heart attack in the middle of the night. This year, as I recover from quadruple bypass open heart surgery, I am missing him terribly, questioning if there was something he could have done more to prevent his death, and I am particularly reflective about mortality and fatherhood.
My dad was pretty great. I know he tried his best. He adopted me when I was very young, but I had essentially lived with him since I was born. My biological parents were young and not great, so Ray raised me. My mom Joanne died soon after they adopted me so for awhile it was just me and my dad. He worked, a lot, as a journeyman press operator for US Playing Card so I was the textbook definition of a “latchkey kid”. Yes, I wore my house key around my neck, until I got my first pair of Kangaroos of course. I made my own breakfast, and walked a mile to school and back home. Being a parent and working in a parenting center has taught me a lot about parenting. I know it’s the most important and toughest job you ever do. There’s no manual. Most parents are just feeling around in the dark, falling back on how they were parented, and stumbling as often as they have a “parenting win”. My dad tried his best and I loved him for it. I’ve now lived so much more of my life without my dad than with him. My memories are like faded photographs. The strongest being the last time I saw him. Fortunately, the last thing we said to each other was “I love you”.
I am lucky to have discovered my heart issues and had them fixed before I unintentionally abandoned my kids like my father did. But today as I miss ad grieve my dad, I am overcome with sadness about what my kids could have gone through and what they will go through when I do pass. I worry about how they’ll cope and grieve. I worry that it will hold them back. For now, all I can do is let them know I love them every day and hope thier memories of me are good ones.
About 4 years after my dad passed, Kurt Cobain died. It his me like a ton of bricks. I was still mourning my dad and quite frankly was kind of spiraling in my life. I was in college, in a tough relationship, out on my own and was feeling a bit rudderless. My generation was different than previous ones. Pop culture was our religion. We connected to movies, music, television, books, and celebrities differently and more deeply than our parents and certainly our grandparents. Artists spoke to us though their words and pictures. The “cult of personality” inextricably tied us to the artists we adored. We found in these people a connection, an outlet, a resonance. And for many in my generation, Kurt Cobain was our voice. A guttural scream through the chaos. He was an artist, a father, and just one of us-a product of the latchkey decade, a victim of the Reagan years, a conflicted and complex soul trying to navigate a world that we didn’t understand.
I heard the news in my apartment on MTV News. MTV was where Gen X got their news, learned the importance of voting, and became activists. I went through all the stages of grief in seconds, nearly collapsing on the spot. Kurt was a father. That meant nothing to me at the time. There was a famous interview where he fed and dotes over Francis Bean while talking about all things Kurt, Nirvana and the world. Watching they interview now, watching him stumble like any new father, carefully cradling FB he was like any dad. Exploding with love for her, while not having a clue what to do.
Kurt’s demons eventually consumed him and he took his own life, abandoning Francis and altering the trajectory of art and the world. Now Cobain is remembered as important, yet a cautionary tale, a Nirvana t-shirt now means very little when worn by a Gen Zer who wasn’t there when Nirvana changed the world but decided the shirt looked great in an Instagram story. For me Kurt is still the most important artist in my life and like me, a dad who struggles with his demons and doesn’t know what the hell I am doing.
When my heart surgery happened I promised to be better an do better. And I am goin to try to do just that. To honor two man I love, miss, and grieve today and every day.
Not Dead Yet Post Surgery Reflections
It’s pretty amazing the range of emotions you feel when you experience a major health setback. Fear, anger, regret, confusion, despair, depression, anxiety. Those are just a few things that washed over me like tsunami waves over the last few days. Emotions come and go as they do. The thing that triggers the emotion occurs then your brain and your body react. Usually it’s something simple a fleeting. A good belly laugh at a funny scene in a movie. A moment of fear when you receive some bad news. Elevated anxiety when you’re running late on an assignment at work. Of course there are more long term feelings of you suffer from chronic depression, have experienced trauma, or are grieving a loss.
But when you receive unexpected health news or experience a traumatic accident the feelings come and go like those crashing waves on the beach. But rather than being exhilarating or refreshing these waves of emotions crash hard every time. Each one unexpected and different. Hitting you in a way you feel you have no control over. While at the same time you’re being pulled under. The emotions swirling at your feet trying to take you down. You’re overwhelmed and the only thing you can do is try and maintain your balance.
I have to say from the moment Rebecca asked my cardiologist, “So, what does this mean?” And he replied “He had to have open heart surgery.” I somehow began to be balanced. Yes, every single emotion imaginable washed over me and swirled around me. Confusion, fear, desperation were and are among the top things I’ve felt and continue to feel. But among the chaos of emotions, hope. Hope that the science and modern medicine would do their thing. Hope that “God” whatever that actually means would be there guiding what was meant to happen. As an agnostic that does not and cannot subscribe to any organized religion I don’t dismiss the possibility of a God or something that started it all. I certainly don’t think she’s an olde white dude judging us from the clouds or that he supports nearly anything modern Christians do and say, but I digress. I’ve seen things and felt things in my life that support my beliefs so that’s what I’m sticking to.
Anyway, from the moment the bombshell news dropped I felt a strange calm in that this was now not out of my hands. It was in the hands of science and god, whomever she may be. My surgeon said that this is more art than science. He knew what he needed to do, but didn’t know what he was going to do until he got in there. Surgery went textbook, as “routine” as it could have been. Using a vein harvested from my leg, Dr. Okum bypassed the blockages in my heart and saved my life. I mean the guy literally held my heart in his hands.
During an immediate post op visit from my family, I felt and heard them all stop to see me. The moment that really sticks out is when Rebecca was talking to the nurse holding my hand I began to feel like I was choking. I started trying to trace “choking” on Rebecca’s hand. She figured it out, told the nurse and she cleared out my throat.
I’ll spare you the gory details of recovery. It involved a steady regimen of yanking stuff out of me and sticking stuff into me. It wasn’t pleasant but I was cared for by a host of amazing nurses who I hope I never have to see again.
My wife, my children, my in laws have been incredible. I know this is hard on them too and besides the pain and physical recovery I cannot imagine the emotions they are and have experienced.
I’m home. I’m recovering. I’m feeling better each day. Last night I even got in bed by myself! Today I am having some muscle pain that is both equally painful and annoying. My last obstacle is getting OUT of bed. As it stands now, I cannot get out of bed on my own and I cannot see a path to get there. It’s frightening and constricting. But I am sure I’ll get there eventually.
I’m feeling a bit of depression and loneliness right now. People reaching out diminishes significantly as you get further from the event. I am also surprised by the people who did and who did not reach out. I’m feeling like I am not as popular as I thought I am. But I have good mental health support in place and as they say-this too shall pass. Reach out to your friends you never know when they may need you.
Monday Morning Mixtape
Here we go again.
I love making playlists. So I am going to try to do it again on the regular. Apple Music only. Sorry, everybody else. Let me know your thoughts. May last a week. May last forever. Here’s volume 1.
A Love Letter To The Chuck Taylor II
On July 28, 2015 Converse released a sequel to arguably the most popular and recognized sneaker of all time, the Converse Chuck Taylor All Star. Originally basketball shoes, the original Chuck Taylor or “Chucks” became a fashion icon seen on every one from superstar rock drummer Tommy Lee to Tommy the kid down the street. Black canvas, white laces, the classic logo made Chucks the quick, easy, fashion choice that goes with everything. Hell, I wore a pair in my wedding.
There was one small problem with Chucks. A problem that became more pronounced as Gen Xers who adopted them as their footwear of choice began to notice as they aged. Comfort. Originally designed in 1917 to 1917 standards comfort was not a consideration. These were basketball shoes meant to be worn on the court, not all day on college campuses and all nights in bars discovering grunge music. So, it was time for a sequel.
The Chuck Taylor All Star II started with the standard design, but then modernized it, made it slicker looking using modern fabric, more lightweight rubber, a wider toe box, and as a result of Converse joining the Nike corporation Lunarlon technology. The Lunarlon insert meant a revolution in comfort for long time Chuck wearers.
I headed to the Kenwood Towne Centre as soon as they were available and went home with one pair of all three colors, red, black and white. Personally, I loved the look. It was a modern, more sleek look that the original. An almost wet look fabric that was at the same time modern and classic. Available in classic high tops and low tops, these shoes spoke to me. They felt great, looked cool and became an instant staple of my daily wardrobe. More colors came including blue, maroon and eventually more bold choices.
I wore these shoes almost daily, the times I made a fashion choice to wear one of my many pair of classic Chucks I instantly longed for the comfort of Lunarlon technology. I bought more pairs of these beloved shoes eventually being able to match any outfit with Chuck IIs. It was glorious.
Of course, I was blissfully unaware of market forces working behind the scenes to destroy my life. While I adored the shoes and spoke their benefits to wide footed friends and family who had long shunned the original Chuck Taylor, apparently I was in the minority. I saw the shoes on friends, and in public, but suddenly I was hearing about Chuck 70 and noticed my beloved shoes were no longer on store shelves and in marketing emails. Despite the great look (IMHO) obvious comfort, and modern technology, audiences were not connecting with these shoes. And apparently weren’t buying them either.
I found myself in a unique situation. My favorite shoe all time was no longer available. I found a pair of low-cut black Chuck Taylor shoes which had become my primary foot vehicle and put them in a closet. I should have bought 100 pair.
Remarkably in addition to the new design, apparently these shoes also included by choice of material a surprising resiliency and longevity not seen in original Chucks or any other shoe id ever owned. I’m not a sneaker hear and I didnt really do anything special to maintain the shoes other than a quick cleaning when necessary and replacement laces as needed, the shoes still wore well, felt great and looked pretty good.
I recently took all of my shoes and gave them a deep clean, brightened the toe caps and sides with the magical Magic Eraser and re-laced them all. I could probably get years more use out of these.
So here we are. I’m an old man wearing a shoe no one liked and loving them like they are red carpet fashion. Chuck Taylor All Star II, I love you, I miss you, and I’ll wear you with pride until you disintegrate off my very feet.
Best Albums of 2022
Best Albums of 2022
2022 was another banner year for music. Some amazing releases from across the spectrum. So, just under the wire here is my official list of the best albums of 2022. Apple Music subscriber? Listen to these albums here.
Taylor Swift Midnights
Afghan Whigs How Do You Burn?
Beabadoobee beatopia
Wet Leg Wet Leg
Momma Household Name
Soccer Mommy Sometimes, Forever
Joywave Cleanse
The Lumineers Brightside
Jack White Fear of the Dawn
The Linda Lindas Growing Up
The Regrettes Further Joy
Pixies Doggerel
Pixey Dreams, Pains and Paper Planes
Gladie Don’t Know What You’re in Until You’re Out
Archers of Loaf Reason In Decline
Envy of None Envy of None
The Sherlocks World I Understand
Eddie Vedder Earthling
Jack White Entering Heaven Alive
Spoon Lucifer on the Sofa
Is The Thanksgiving Leftover Sandwich The Most Important Sandwich Of The Year?
If you’re like most Americans, aren’t gluten-free and aren’t super healthy, you probably love sandwiches. The lunchtime staple is versatile, delicious, and endlessly customizable. You can really put anything between two slices of bread to make a sandwich. Ed. Note: before we go much further we need to agree that a hotdog is categorically NOT a sandwich. If you think it is, this isn’t the website for you.
Sandwiches usually contain the aforementioned sliced bread, meat, cheeses, vegetables, toppings, and condiments. Popular ingredients include sliced deli meat, lettuce and tomato, mustard or mayonnaise, peanut butter, jelly or jam, but one sandwich stands alone and above the rest; the thanksgiving leftover sandwich.
In the United States, Thanksgiving is celebrated the fourth Thursday of November. Traditions typically include gathering together with family and friends around a large meal consisting of turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, vegetables, and a host of other sides that may include macaroni and cheese, sweet potato casserole, various green bean or broccoli casseroles, dinner rolls and assorted pies for dessert. The mass quantities of carb heavy foods usually create vast quantities of leftovers which are stored in Tupperware and call to you like a siren from the refrigerator just minutes after you put them away.
A popular way to enjoy these leftovers is he humble sandwich format. Which begs the question, is the thanksgiving leftover sandwich the most important sandwich of the year? Hyperbole Free argues, yes, absolutely. Let’s dig in.
While sandwiches are on the menus and diets of millions of Americans every day-we often don’t give them the thought or the respect they deserve. We spread our peanut butter and jelly on slices of store bought wheat bread, smash them together, toss them in a lunch pail, and enjoy them at noon as rote. Maybe it’s ham and cheese. Perhaps sourdough. Occasionally we’ll get some crusty French bread, some farm fresh tomatoes and some thick cut bacon to assemble and enjoy delicious BLTs for a special dinner. But in general the sandwich is regulated to midday fuel to power us through the rest of our work or school day.
But, Thanksgiving, that’s something special. We look forward to it. We build anticipation with every ingredient we buy, knowing deep down that the true endgame for that 20 pound turkey, those to be mashed potatoes, an those boxes of stuffing isn’t the dinner table on Thanksgiving Day-its the sandwich we build on Black Friday.
To be honest, I’m pretty new to the Thanksgiving Leftover Sandwich game. in my youth I’d dutifully and mindlessly pile all those leftovers on a plate the next day replicating my plate from the day before-nuking it into oblivion in the microwave. It was never the same the next day-good but not great. A few years ago I started stuffing those leftover ingredients INTO leftover dinner rolls. It was an epiphany, the start of something special and new. Soon I began piling those ingredients on crusty bread purchased specifically for the purpose of making the Thanksgiving Leftover Sandwich joining a culinary fraternity of sandwich lovers and foodies across the country creating similar masterpieces each year.
The true beauty of this sandwich is that it can be made in a staggeringly vast array of ways and that it is universally beloved. Some of content to simply throw some cold turkey between two slices of Wonder and call it a day. Others, like Hyperbole Free, begin planning weeks in advance. Mentally and physically preparing for the most important sandwich of the year. One thing that adds a bit of mystique to the whole affair- you don’t know what is going to be leftover. Turkey is usually a given, but depending on the size and the hunger of your crowd you could be left with different ingredients to build your sandwich from. This year, we had leftovers of pretty much everything so this year’s sandwich was legendary.
I purchased a loaf of fresh baked ciabatta this year on Wednesday. I also grabbed some lettuce from 80 Acres Farms too. I was ready.
This year I put the turkey on the ciabatta and put in in the oven. I then put a scoop or 2 of mashed potatoes and stuffing, a large scoop of my mom’s legendary mac and cheese, and a bit of sweet potato casserole on a separate plate and nuked that into oblivion for nostalgia sake. After a few minutes being showered in radiation, I took the two components out and began assembling the sandwich. The “base” was a combo of the potatoes and stuffing. Then I returned the turkey to its rightful spot in the middle of the sandwich. Moms mac and cheese, the tiny bit of sweet potato casserole were next. Lettuce and sharp cheddar provided the final blanket of flavor for this year’s sandwich. A bit of Miracle Whip on the top piece of bread and the whole thing went back in the over for just minute or so to let the ingredients get to know each other a little better.
Needless to say the whole thing was delicious. Much better than the plate of for from the previous day because I made it myself.
There you have, the most important sandwich of the year! How do YOU enjoy your Thanksgiving leftovers.
End Of An Era, Saying Goodbye to The Community Press
During the early days of our marriage, Rebecca and struggled a bit financially. We married young, and thought we could take on the world with our combined retail and teacher salaries. When we had our first child, we had to make an important financial and developmental decision for our family. We decided that daycare was not only too expensive, but that we wanted to raise our kids ourselves day to day. That meant me working part time at Apple evenings and weekends. The drop in salary wasn’t as much as day care would have cost but it did make things tight. My mother in law noticed that The Community Press, the local neighborhood newspapers were looking for freelancers. I tossed my hat in the ring and spent the next decade or so covering high school sports for the Press.
Now, several years after I stopped freelancing, the print editions of these remaining newspapers are coming to an end effectively ending the era of local and hyperlocal print journalism in the Cincinnati region.
No, no the irony that a person who hates sports spent nearly a decade writing about them is not lost on me. Nor is the fact that I am blogging about the end of local print newspapers. But here we are.
Mark Motz, known around my house as “Uncle Mark” (he’s the uncle on one of my son’s grade school buddies) was my first editor. I had tossed my name in the hat for freelancers and Mark took a chance on me. Now, I did not attend journalism school. I had actually planned to be a teacher until I did my first round of student teaching and realized that it was NOT for me. I did write for The Northerner, the student run paper at NKU, while I was in college, but that was the extent of my writing experience at the time. I finished my degree in English and do what all English majors do, continued my retail career. But eventually I started writing fairly regularly for the Press.
For my first assignment Mark sent me out on a boat. Really. Ben Quisno of Loveland was looking to break into pro bass fishing. So, I jumped on his boat and we went fishing. The story was printed and Mark kept giving me assignments. As did Dick Maloney and Melanie Laughman. I wrote hundreds of stories, mostly recaps of football games, and fall sports previews. It wasn’t all recaps and box scores. I was able to interview an Indian Hill kicker who never missed a field goal as he persevered after his father’s unexpected death. I wrote about my nephew’s t-ball team. And covered McNicholas High Schools district baseball championship, long before my kids ever thought of going there.
I’d go on to write for The Amazing Colossal Website, Choremonster, and various personal blogs. All now defunct. lol.
Eventually, both of my kids started school and I returned to full-time work. Eventually landing a gig as a full time writer at a local non-profit.
Many years later the circle continued as both of my kids became junior carriers delivering The Forest Hills Journal in our neighborhood. You think you get to know who your neighbors really are when the political signs go up? You should see how adults treat small children collecting $2.00 a month for a newspaper. (Spoiler alert-we’re in trouble, folks.) Eventually the junior carrier program was eliminated and now…the community papers have been eliminated.
It’s sad beyond being a veteran of writing for the paper, I was also a fan. I liked the local coverage of events in my neighborhood written by folks who lived there. It seemed genuine though a bit old fashioned. The contraction of the newspaper world has been tough to watch-many of those writers headed to other news organizations, but many headed into marketing and social media. I think its unfortunate that these papers are going away. Local news is important and having someone report on issues that affect you and your neighbors is too. I’m fortunate to have had these experiences and look back on this time fondly. RIP The Community Press.
Won’t Get Fooled Again…A Review of The Who
There’s never been a time in my life as a Cincinnatian and as a fan of live music that the specter of the 1979 tragedy at The Who concert at Riverfront Coliseum hasn’t hung over me. I was just 6 at the time, but remember it being a big deal. My dad talked about it. It was all over the news. And later there was even an episode of WKRP in Cincinnati that addressed the tragedy. For those who don’t know, on the evening of December 3, 1979 11 people were killed outside The Who concert in Cincinnati as the crowd rushed the only open door at the arena when a trailer for Quadrophenia convinced them the show had begun. The show went on as the band was unaware of the tragedy that unfolded before the show began. My cousin knew two of the kids who died. He recalled the day a limo with the band went down his street to visit and console one of the families. The aftermath of this disaster influenced safety at concerts in Cincinnati and the rest of the country for years to come.
That arena, now Heritage Bank Center, would not host another general admission show until 2002 when Bruce Springsteen asked the ban be lifted for his show on November 12th. In the years between 1979 and 2002 many shows skipped Cincinnati at least in part because our main arena didn’t host GA shows. The Springsteen show changed the GA policy in town but the pall of the tragedy remained. I’ve attended countless shows at that arena but would not see a GA show there until 2011.
Almost any time I find myself in a tight crowd, whether at a concert, sporting event, airport, or really anywhere I would think about The Who tragedy. Often, I or someone nearby would worry aloud about a “Who situation”. Not in a joking manner, but in a genuinely cautiously anxious observation. CIncinnatians may not always be polite but this is one event we all collectively approach with reverence.
There’s been several concerts, Guns n Roses in Dayton in 1991 and Green Day in Columbus (at a club) in 2016 come to mind, where I was genuinely concerned for my safety. I always know where the exits are and I always plan for a safe entrance and exit from any big event. My kids get the speech before any big event they attend…and they always will.
I love The Who. The influences most of the bands I love. Their songs are covered from everyone from Pearl Jam to Van Halen to the aforementioned Guns N Roses. But I never thought I’d see them live, and certainly not in Cincinnati. But on Sunday May 15th, 2022 that’s exactly wha happened. My buddy approached me with tickets to the show and of course I said yes! 43 long years after they last played Cincinnati, The Who ended their self imposed exile and returned to town as part of their The Who Hits Back! tour.
Now a lot of time has transpired. It’s actually amazing that these guys are even touring in their late 70’s. The crowd was full of 50-80 year olds - rock isn’t the music of the young anymore. The show took place at TQL Stadium, a brand new soccer stadium in Cincinnati’s west end, just a few miles away from the arena. It was the first concert hosted at the stadium. It turns out its a great venue for stadium rock and the weather cooperated as well. It was a beautiful night in the East End as thousands -safely- packed in to the stadium. Its clear that the band carefully considered how to address the tragedy. The opening band comprised of Finneytown graduates who were friends with some of the folks who lost thier lives in 1979. It was a good old fashioned cover band and they did great. And while that was an insanely cool gesture, we were there for one thing. An evening with The Who.
Before the show, the names of the eleven were scrolling on a screen around the stadium. A short video tribute shared photos of them in a nice, appropriate tribute. Pearl Jam’s Eddie Vedder, who was apparently supposed to attend the show, sent in a nice video instead.
And then, it happened. For the first time in 43 years, The Who hit the stage in Cincinnati. And it was glorious.
There was almost s shudder in the stadium, a collective sigh of relief, and no doubt a few tears were shed as the lights turned off and Roger Daltrey and Pete Townshend, joined by longtime drummer Zak Starkey, the rest of the band, as well as a full orchestra came on stage. The first four songs, Overture, 1921, Amazing Journey and Sparks were clearly arranged in such a manner as to protect Roger’s voice. Truth is, he sounded great out of the gate. But once he warmed up, around Pinball Wizard, he sounded fantastic. And for a man of his age-he sounded almost otherworldly.
This was a night full of cathartic moments. Every Pete windmill, Roger growl, and familiar intro was met with unbridled enthusiasm, as if each note was offering an emotional release 43 years in the making. Playing with an orchestra added depth to the songs. They sounded full and rich, familiar but newly revitalized. Familiar songs like Eminence Front and The Seeker went down as well as the new songs they added to the setlist to keep things fresh.
But it was of course the mega hits that brought the crowd (average age 62?) slowly to their feet. You Better You Bet, Won’t Get Fooled Again, Who Are You, and Behind Blue Eyes; each song met with a response as if it every one was every single person’s favorite song.
The highlight of the show was Won’t Get Fooled Again. The hit was met with the loudest pop of the night. Starkey drove the song hitting the drums like a mad man -channeling Keith Moon just for a moment. Townshend windmilled like a maniac and the showcase moment-the past breakdown scream from Paltry was present, accounted for and unexpectedly amazing. Seriously. At near 80 years old Roger Daltrey is delivering a legendary scream for a legendary moment.
Midshow, Pete took a brief opportunity to address the tragedy. He was humble, soft-spoken, and clearly moved by the gravity of it all. He said its time to not move on but to move forward. And I feel like we all finally can start to move forward and out of the shadow of this tragedy that has long cast a pall over the rock loving community in Cincinnati.
By the time the opening of Baba O Riley hit, everyone in the stadium, the band, the fans, the entire city was emotionally exhausted but rocked out to the classic hit as though it was the last song of a concert that started over four decades ago.
This was far and away one of the best shows I have ever seen. I’ve seen countless shows at clubs, arenas, stadiums, the basement of abandoned buildings and even the back of a restaurant. I’ve seen new bands, classic acts, and living legends, but this was something special. The talent is undeniable, the songs legendary, and even at their advanced age Roger and Pete played with the energy, power, talent, and enthusiasm of a band more than half their ages. This was more than a rock show, it was an experience that brought closure and healing to a city that needed just that.
Wet Leg Dominates the Conversation and With Good Reason
The hype behind Wet Leg’s debut album has been at a fever pitch. Now that the album is here, the question is…does it live up to the hype?
Short answer? Yep.
Wet Leg, a British indie pop duo, burst on to the scene with their viral hit Chaise Longue last year. The post-punk viral hit featuring a line from Mean Girls was a bit divisive, with some dismissing the repetitive hit, while most were intrigued by the catchy tune.
Wet Dream another infectious, melodic tune followed, setting the band up to have to deliver on their first long play. And deliver they did.
It’s interesting that this band makes such a big sound and big impact with just two people. The songs that populate their self-titled debut LP are short, punchy, catchy and FUN. And I think that is what the hype is all about. This is fun music, that is expertly crafted and delivered. The songs are short, but not without substance.
There is a certain deadpan delivery to the lyrics and melodies. The beats are repetitive and driving as if each song was specifically designed to cause you to bop your head and sing along. The sing songy nature of the songs is a little repetitive, but by the time it gets to be too much the song is over and you’re on to the next earworm. The vocals are good, the musicianship is solid and you just want to listen over and over again.
There are surprises everywhere. The 30 second scream near the end of Ur Mum. The sincerity of songs like Piece of Shit and loving you. The guitar, bass, drums, synths, and other instrumentation come together cleanly and the production is top notch.
Wet Leg continues a tradition of being basically an homage to the music of the 90’s. Songs like Angelica and Supermarket are sufficiently British, quirky, interesting, weird, reminiscent of bands like Blur and Lush. That said, the album is fresh, modern and innovative. It will be interesting to see how things shake out with this band. With Phoebe Bridgers and Japanese Breakfast nominated in big Grammy categories in recent years (and unfortunately losing) Wet Leg may be the indie band to take home the gold.
This album is good enough to have legs, and should be an excellent album to jam to all summer long. We’re fans. Check it out.
Don’t Be Afraid of Fear of the Dawn
Don’t Be Afraid of the Dawn: A Hyperbole Free Review of Jack White’s New Album
Jack White Slays on New Long Play
Fear of the Dawn, Jack White’s latest solo effort is about what you’d expect; loud, weird, and really fucking good. Since the beginning of his career, White has been making guitar based rock music that appeals to music nerds and general rock fans at once. The musicianship, guitar geekery, and technical prowess appeals to the nerds, while the crunchy riffs, howling vocals, and catchy, anthemic choruses that sound great at the shows bring in the masses.
On Fear of the Dawn, the first of two LPs White plans to release this year, Jack is operating on his own having recorded these records during the pandemic. The isolated approach allowed White to mix in some digital effects into his traditionally analogue approach resulting in an album that sounds fresh and modern while retaining a lot of classic rock sensibilities.
Good from the Jump
From the jump Fear of the Dawn grabs you. It’s loud, it’s quirky, it’s classic Jack White. The fuzzy almost electronic guitar is searing and aggressive. It’s like your ears are getting tattooed. The buzz crackling in your head long after the song is over.
White continues this sonic assault across the rest of the album. The title track and The White Raven have the same buzzy guitars layered over solid, crisp driving drums.
Hi-De-Ho sounds like it would belong right next to an Eminem song on a late 90’s early 2000’s horror music soundtrack. Its weird af, but has an instantly head bopping sound and memorable bass riff that will stick in your head long after your first listen.
That was Then, This is Now could have been on any White Stripes album. It’s got a classic memorable riff and a sing along verse and chorus that will have you unable to resist bopping your head along to the beat.
Many of the songs on this record have a very classic rock, 70’s, bluesy, almost sleazy sound to them. Morning, Noon and Night and Shedding My Velvet best exemplify this sound, but it’s a sound that’s embedded deep in the heart of this album. The production is big and bold and many of White’s choices make this sound like an unreleased Led Zeppelin album. The drums are big, the rhythm is hard and driving.
The production is tight, crisp, and clean. Grab this on vinyl and listen through a good set of headphones for the full effect. Jack White is a master of creating memorable albums that keep rock and roll alive while infusing it with fresh and modern blood.
Wrap-Up
This album is weird af. The lyrics are wild, the song structures are unique, but don’t let that scare you off. If you’ve enjoyed Jack White’s music in the past, whether The White Stripes or solo or any of his other bands, you’re probably going to easily find an entry point into this album. I say embrace the weirdness, turn it up as loud as you possibly can and rock the fuck out.
Introducing Weekly (probably not) NEW MUSIC Playlists!
Here’s this week’s playlist! Featuring new music from Sammy Hagar, Weezer, Pixey, and Pixies!
We’re SO excited to announce a brand new, amazing new feature EXCLUSIVELY available to anyone who reads this blog. The Absolute Best New Music playlists will be published weekly (when we remember) featuring the absolute best new music released each week. These playlists will be on Apple Music because we aren’t monsters.
Get started with our inaugural absolute best new music playlist here! This week’s playlist features AMAZING new music from The Linda Lindas, Father John Misty, Envy of None, Jack White, Wet Leg and SO MUCH MORE!
Best Albums of 2021
2021 was a tremendous year for music. A terrible year for just about everything else. But a great year for music. The year was led by massive releases from established superstars like Taylor Swift and Adele as well as breakthrough smash hits from new artists like mammothWVH. Many of these artist also hit the road among the ongoing global pandemic making for the one of the most bizarre year’s in music history.
For our purposes here, it’s mostly about indie music/indie rock with prominent young woman artists leading the way as they have been for the past few years. So, here it is, the HyperboleFree Best albums of 2021!
Taylor Swift Red (Taylor’s Version)
Taylor Swift has been re-recording her past works as a way to free herself from ownership issues that have plagued her the last few years. Re-recording her classic LPs is giving her freedom over her music and earning potential that she has not had since Scooter Braun acquired her catalogue. These re-releases have been phenomenal and packed with extras, but Red (Taylor’s Version) is special. My favorite TSwift album has new life and vibrancy here. These songs sound incredible, flow well together and sound new, fresh and important. A 10 minute version of her breakup hit All Too Well got the headlines (and rightfully so) but the entire album including the new songs are incredible. Red (Taylor’s version) is our album of the year.
Pom Pom Squad Death of a Cheerleader
Until Taylor Swift dropped the atom bomb that is Red (Taylor’s Version) this was an early candidate for my record of the year. Honestly, ordering my top 10 was near impossible. This record appeals to my 90’s sensibilities and it just flat out kicks ass. A kills cover of Crimson and Clover hooks you, but fun, singable songs like Crying and Be Good locks you in. And then there’s Drunk Voicemail. One of my favorite songs of the year.
At just 22, Lindsey Jordan has already released some really incredible music, but Valentine is her magnum opus. This album delivers on emotion and lush sonic landscapes. As with many albums on this list, there are 90’s throwbacks, but delivered sounding fresh contemporary. Lindsey’s voice is beautiful and complimented perfectly by her guitar playing.
Halsey If I Can’t Have Love, I Want Power
When this was announced it sounded bananas. Halsey, one of the decades most vibrant and interesting artists teaming up with Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross to deliver a real reflection on childbirth and motherhood. Like pop records do right? The results? Spectacular. For NIN fans, this is like a fresh, contemporary version of Nine Inch Nails with a distinctly feminine perspective. Trent and Atticus fingerprints are all over the sound of this record, but they compliment and highlight Halsey who is the star here. A gloomy, brooding, industrial record that is a reflection of modern times. I am not a woman I am a god is a rallying cry for women. Honey is the highlight here. Perfect pop for an imperfect time.
Capitalization doesn’t stand a chance against Olivia Rodrigo. And neither do the ears and hearts of fans steamrolled by this preposterously good album. Pop perfection, each song is seemingly more infectious than the previous. Hit after hit here. What appealed to me was the elastica influenced opener brutal, but good 4 u, driver’s license, and traitor are all just incredible examples of what makes pop so good in 2021.
This was a tough call. Released early in the year, Little Oblivions found its way into my my soul. Such a brilliant, emotive collection of beautiful songs. For quite a while this was my top album of the year. Every song is a highlight. Definitely worth checking out.
I’d missed this album for most of the year despite it getting rave reviews and being squarely in my wheelhouse. But once I listened I was smitten. From the opening beauty of Paprika to the absolutely epic Posing for Cars, this is an epic album. The guitar here is fantastic and the vocals are fantastic.
Brandi Carlile In These Silent Days
Geez. This album is a lot. Brandi’s voice is undeniable and she leaves it all on this record. This is an emotional record from beginning to end.
There’s a lot of sadness in the records I loved this year, but this one is fun. Melodic, poppy, heavy, rock and roll. This reminds me of the best of Paramore. AND a Robert Smith cameo on How Not to Drown.
Theres “good” Weezer albums and there’s “not good” Weezer albums. Now, I love them all, but there are albums that are just packed with great songwriting and infectious grooves (Blue, Green, Black) or even flashes of brilliance (Pinkerton). This is among Weezer’s best work. Fun of catchy numbers worthy of their biggest non-Africa hits as well as well constructed Pinkerton level songs, OK Human is a good Weezer album and a good album. All my Favorite Songs and Here Comes the Rain are best examples of amazing songs fro this classic band.
Wow. The first 2 Garbage albums are absolute classics and this album stands proudly right alongside of them. Shirley Manson delivers deep lyrics full of emotion and empowerment and remains one of rock’s best front persons. There’s a bit of an industrial sound here which really elevates and modernizes the Garbage sound. Great fucking record.
What can I say, the kids has chops. This brand of rock is very reminiscent of 2000’s rock that wasn't really my jams, however Wolfgang’s pure talent elevates this songs to something really special. Wolf plays ever note of every instrument here and shows off his pipes. The video for Distance turned every middle aged Van Halen fan into a pool of jello, and the rest of these hard rock numbers brought us back. Rock is dead? Not if Wolfgang Van Halen has anything to say about it.
Matthew Sweet has spent an entire career putting out solid records. His soaring voice, infectious melodies, and interesting guitar and bass work helped define alternative music in the 90’s and still do today. I am a Stan and found this album to be among his best. Te songs here aren’t as catchy as those on Girlfriend or 100% Fun, but they are catchy and fun. This album is a little heavier than most of his work. Great album that any Sweet fan is going to enjoy.
The Mountain Goats Dark In Here
The Mountain Goats continue to put out perfect hipster music. I mean with song titles like The Destruction of the Kola Superdeep Borehole Tower and Arguing With the Ghost of Peter Laughner About His Coney Island Baby Review what do you expect. The band moves from bouncy jangly alt pop to more moody, slower acoustic ruminations that really shine.
Foo Fighters Medicine at Midnight
My first concert since the pandemic was Foo Fighters on this tour. It was post vaccine, outdoors and things were looking up. Well, its been downhill from there, but this record holds up. Waiting on a War, Shame Shame and the title track are all classic BIG sounding rock songs that fit in right alongside classic foos. Fun, loud rock and roll from the torch bearers for rock and roll.
Manchester Orchestra The Million Masks of God
Another hipster/bear rock band putting out consistently great material. My son turned me on to this band and I’ve been a stan ever since. Andy Hull’s voice is as unique as his songwriting. This is a band that puts together complex arrangements full of interesting instrumentation all layered upon Andy’s vocals. Angel of Death and Bed Head are among my favorite songs of the year. Fantastic.
Tom Petty and The Heartbreakers Angel Dream
Ok. She’s The One Original Motion Picture Soundtrack is my favorite Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers album. That soundtrack has been reimagined as its own new posthumous record detached from the movie and its still my favorite. Its a little different as some songs originally intended for Wildflowers are here and some songs including the incredible California are on the Wildflowers re-release. Despite those changes, this album is so good. Like a compliment to Wildflowers but brilliant on its on. Don’t sleep on this Petty record.
I’m still digging into this record but from the first listen I knew I loved this record. Tamara Lindeman’s voice is unbelievable. This is Canadian folk rock focused on the climate crisis and somehow it’s endlessly listenable. I look forward to spending more time with this record.
Lorde continues to put our interesting, complicated, unique music. Solar Power is no different. California and the title track are standouts, but the entire album is worth digging it to just to hear her voice.
St. Vincent is Beck and Prince wrapped into one. Daddy’s Home showcases St. Vincent’s voice around a lounge pop soundscape that sounds timeless, but thanks to that Jack Antonoff magic it also sounds modern and contemporary.
Kacey’s voice has an ethereal quality to it coupled with that unique twang. This is a gloomy pop record full of moody ballads and mid tempo pop songs. Justified is an ear worm and a great representation of this album’s sound. The general topic of heartbreak is clear throughout and Kacey does a great job moving into the pop scene. There’s a brilliant short film that accompanies this album and brings the themes to life visually. Paramount + only though.
iPod Turns 20
I was in training to work at Apple when Steve Jobs announced the iPod twenty years ago today. We paused training to read about the device for a bit before resuming training. There was some excitement but a lot of questions.
One of my first official tasks at Apple was demoing iPod to the crowd gathered at the Grand Opening of the Apple Store in Cincinnati on November 3rd 2001. Apple sent a prototype with 4 songs on it, brief instructions on the “click wheel” and clear direction that customers were not to touch it. I showed off the device to the bemused crowd. I also took a list of names of people interested in the new device the list was short.
I still have my original iPod and will fire it up to see if it still works and what I was listening to 20 years ago. I wrote more extensively about iPod 5 years ago. You can find that here.
Today, I’ll get out this workhorse of a music player, charge it up and listen to whatever I listened to 20 years ago.
X Years Ago…Remembering Steve Jobs
Ten years ago tonight the news broke that Steve Jobs had passed.
I was home. Watching the news. It wasn’t wholly unexpected as Steve had been sick but it felt like I’d been punched in the gut when I heard the actual news. I was working for Apple at the time, actually I was just a few days shy of my tenth anniversary with the company. I remember telling my wife. I recall texting some friends. I remember feeling numb.
Steve was my hero. Flawed, never perfect, and not a hero I’d ever wanted to meet, but a hero nonetheless. Steve had changed the world with product after product that impacted my life in some very big way. The Mac. OS X. iPod. iPhone. iPad. These were all just pieces of technology, but they spoke to me. I found ways to stay connected, discover new information, share my thoughts, become immersed in music, movies, and photography. Anytime I have a presentation to give, I watch Steve introducing iPhone. Steve had a way of inspiring while informing, of making the ordinary seem extraordinary (the “reality distortion field”)
Steve’s company gave me a career. Unfortunately my time at Apple was marred by terrible human beings that took the worst parts of everything and twisted Steve’s vision in ways that made my time there less than ideal. It’s interesting though, that when Steve died I headed straight to the Apple Store. I wanted to be there. I needed to be there. A few friends had the same idea. We converged at the store and cried, laughed, shared stories, and cried some more. While we were there we received word from Cupertino to dim the lights on the Apple logo. Something I don’t believe had been done in a decade. It was surreal and probably a little dumb, but watching those lights go out was incredibly emotional and symbolic.
Steve wasn’t a perfect man. In fact, by most accounts he was kind of an asshole. But he was a genius. He had a vision that he was able to manifest time and time again in ways that changed the way we looked at, interacted with, and appreciated technology. Some people don’t get it. And that’s fine. I’m glad I was one of the ones who did.
My time at Apple is long in the rear view, and honestly a lot of my passion for the company has also dimmed much like those lights the night Steve died. I still love and their products, I still think of Jobs as an innovator, a legend, and a hero. RIP Steve. Think Different.
I’ve got Another Confession To Make. A Hyperbole Free Review of the First Foo Fighters Show in a LONG Time
I’ve got another confession to make. I went to a concert last night as the COVID-19 pandemic rages. And it was glorious.
The Foo Fighters originally planned a tour to celebrate their 25th anniversary last year following the same itinerary and hitting the same cities as their first tour. COVID had other plans. So they rescheduled and while the pandemic is still among us, and 8,000 fans crammed onto the lawn outside the new Andrew J Brady ICON Music Center in Cincinnati to give the virus a rock and roll sized middle finger.
The new venue is fine, an outdoor stage and a grassy knoll along the river with a sweeping view of the Cincinnati skyline. There is also an indoor theater as part of the complex. The Foos could have played Riverbend and originally this show was supposed to be at US Bank Arena, but this was perfect. A bit more intimate, everyone felt close to the stage. Radkey opened and they were awesome, definitely going to check them out more. The crowd reacted well to these punk rockers, but we were there for one thing, the Foo freaking Fighters.
The band hit the stage at 8:30. Dave Grohl, rock’s kindest god, stood at the front of the stage for about 5 minutes, grinning from ear to ear, his constant companion, that blue guitar slung low around his body. “I’m just going to take this in for a minute. It’s been awhile.” We needed a minute to take it all in ourselves.
From that moment on, 8:30-11, the Foo Fighters didn’t stop fighting. And neither did the crowd. Sure, Dave took a few minutes here and there to introduce the band, to call out some fans, to catch his breath and let us catch ours, but it was a 21 song assault that included new songs, old songs, classic songs, and of course a few covers. Your favorite song was probably played and if it wasn’t there were enough sing along, sorry shout along tunes to keep you on your feet, give you goosebumps, and ensure you wouldn’t be able to speak the next day. I am not sure how Dave does it, screaming for nearly three hours without a crack, a mistake, or blowing out his vocal chords. Standouts of the night from Dave were The Pretender, Rope, My Hero, These Days, Walk, Best of You, and Monkey Wrench. The crowd screamed along with every single word he said.
One particularly magical moment came mid-show during the song Walk. During the lyrics, “
Forever, whenever, I never wanna die
I never wanna die
I never wanna die
I'm on my knees, I never wanna die
I'm dancing on my grave
I'm running through the fire
Forever, whenever
I never wanna die”
there seemed to be a physical and emotional release. The entire audience shouting those words back at Dave almost in response to the last year was overwhelming. I literally sobbed. I don’t want to die. And am glad I haven’t. Yet. This show seemed like a reward for 16 months of wearing masks, avoiding people, washing my hands till they bled, and grieving the loss of 600,000 Americans. We’re not out of the woods yet, but I felt hopeful. At least for a moment. I’ve always loved this song, and now its among my favorites. By the Foos or anyone else.
Dee Gees
There was a fun moment when the Dee Gees made their appearance. Just two songs from the bands latest covers EP, You Should Be Dancing and Shadow Dancing. All of the hot moms and dads around us went bananas for these songs and everyone seemed to have a blast taking a moment to dance their asses off. Everyone except maybe Pat Smear who looked like he was thinking “I was the touring guitarist for Nirvana for Christ’s sake” during these two disco songs.
Taylor Freaking Hawkins
Can we talk about Taylor Hawkins for a minute? I love the guy. Like he might be my favorite person. And this is in a band that includes Dave Grohl. Taylor gets his moment to shine, even his friend Dave calls it out during his introduction; “He likes to hear how many people love him.” And we do. Taylor and Dave switch places and for me it’s the best part of the night. Tonight it was Queen’s “Somebody to Love” and it was GLORIOUS. Taylor can sing his ass off, wears Van Halen board shorts everywhere, and is just the coolest dude alive. He did of course return the love reminding everyone, for a moment while he sings we get to see one of rock’s greatest drummers play. And that always hits me. I get to see the drummer for freaking Nirvana. It’s a fun moment and I am forever a Taylor Hawkins stan.
The band eschewed an encore saying simply they could walk off the stage for a minute and what for the call back, but they wanted to squeeze as many songs in as they could. I called the first encore. Dave walked around and talked to everyone in the band, switched guitars, and hit a note. “Monkey Wrench” I called to my son. Sure as shit they SCREAMED their way through this classic. Then wrapped up with Everlong, of course, as the hour struck 11.
Consumate pros. Rock gods. Cool dudes. This was an epic night. Thank you.
This Blog’s The Hitman’s Wife’s Bodyguard’s Review
My AMC A-List subscription re-activated today after a pandemic’s long pause. I am still a bit wary of people. And places. And things. And dying of a debilitating virus. But I am vaccinated and the theater in my neighborhood is amazingly still open despite always being empty. I opened up my AMC app, downloaded the update, changed my password and looked at the movies showing today. Fast 9 Saga was playing on 2 theaters and had a handful of seats sold; far more seats than I would have been comfortable sitting with for the 9th movie in a series of which I’ve seen none of the previous entries. Peter Rabbit 2, no….The Hitman’s Wife’s Bodyguard you say? OK.
So for my first time back in an empty theater I chose to see The Hitman’s Wife’s Bodyguard. Now, I knew next to nothing about this film. I’d vaguely seen a trailer or commercial for it. I knew Ryan Reynolds (the hitman?), Salma Hayek (the bodyguard?) and Nick Fury (the wife?) were in it. and I assumed it had something to do with a bodyguard guarding the body of the wife of a hitman. That’s about all you need to know.
This movie is loud. There’s a lot of gun shots, it’s very loud. Salma Hayek is still hot as a firecracker, though I shouldn’t say still, because here character gets very angry and the insinuation that she is old (she’s not). Ryan Reynolds spends almost the entirety of the film covered in brains and blood. And is also still as hot as a firecracker. A firecracker covers in brains and blood I suppose. Oh yeah Samuel Jackson is in this. And he plays Samuel L Jackson. You know what you’re getting here.
Look this movie seems like a bunch of folks were sitting around getting high at Reynold’s place and decided to shoot a nonsense movie. It doesn’t make a lick of sense and despite it being set in the real world, there are some comically outrageous things that happen to these characters physically. Salma Hayek is actually pretty great delivering every line with an effortless whiplash speed and confidence that ensure all her jokes land. Unfortunately every joke is just an endless stream of profanity, again its like these folks got together and said “let’s make a movie where we get to shoot a lot, cuss a lot, and have fun over the course of a weekend without putting a lot of effort in. Does anyone have Morgan Freeman’s number?”
I am not entirely sure of the plot here, something about Antonio Banderas (oh yeah he’s totally in it) wanting to destroy Europe, there’s a confusing infertility sub-plot as well. And (spoiler alert) Morgan Freeman is Reynold’s dad until Hayek and Jackson adopt him.
Anyway, my A-List subscription renewed and I’m back at the movies.
The Afghan Whigs, Black Love
Released on March 12, 1996 Black Love by The Afghan Whigs is probably my favorite album of all time.
Yes, that’s a bold claim. There are other albums I adore, that have meant a lot to me, Appetite for Destruction and Nevermind come to mind, but Black Love spoke to me in way that other albums, really any other art, never did or has since.
Black Love took everything that The Afghan Whigs did well, grungy club guitar rock, lush soundscapes, R&B influences, and most importantly deep, dark introspection, and perfected it. Greg Dulli’s best work always seems cinematic in nature, his albums play out like noir films projected through smoke and dust straight onto your heart, and his songs make up the individual scenes to those “movies”. Nowhere does this analogy play out more than with Black Love. Dulli’s contract with Elektra was more than just a recording contract, there were options for movies, books, producing and more, most of which never materialized. Black Love plays like a soundtrack for a movie that was never made.
Original sealed 1996 Sub Pop Release and 20th Anniversary Edition
The stage is set with Crime Scene Part One.
Tonight, tonight
I say goodbye
To everyone who loves me
With this line, Greg Dulli begins his dark tale. A crime has been committed. In the movie, a murder perhaps, on vinyl, a broken heart- a murder in its own right.
I hear the whispers, baby
If what they say is true
They say I killed the brother
To fall in love with you
The dark theme continues on My Enemy, Double Day and Blame, Etc. Dulli speaks of love, alcohol, despair, crucification, revenge, and blame. These songs, like the bulk of the movie pack in so much vivid detail. Dulli’s vocals are cloaked in rage, sadness, and cigarette smoke. The band, including Rick McCollum, John Curley, and drummer Paul Buchignani are at the peak of their powers here backing up Greg’s words. While these songs fit in on any alternative radio rotation from the 90’s, they are elevated by talent, skill, experience and musicianship. Something special is happening here as this twisted tale unfolds.
Whenever the light shines
And the stillness is shaken
And the drug of your smile has gone
And left me alone
I need it bad, I need it now
Won't you come and give me some?
I need it sweet, baby please
Won't you answer the phone?
Step into the light, baby
Black Love hits its emotional crescendo with the intentional ballad Step Into The Light. My favorite Afghan Whigs song plays like a heartfelt ballad screaming out for lost love in desperation. This is a song to both make love to and to break up to. Greg steps back from yelling into the abyss hear and gives us a raw, authentic performance that gives me chills nearly every time I hear it. Its a sparse song whose lyrics and feelings hang the in air like cigarette smoke and the scent of whiskey and sex.
If Step Into The Light is the emotional climax of the album, Going to Town and Honkey’s Ladder are the action climax. The band is searing of both of these tracks, particularly Honkey’s Ladder which sounds like a machine gun echoing in your head. Dulli goes ALL OUT here, screaming into the abyss thematically and literally about burning the whole place down. This is where things go to the edge and nearly fall apart. On screen, these songs would play out as tense action leaving you on the edge of your seat, on the turntable its the same, you want to turn it up and scream along with Greg.
We slow things down a bit with Night By Candlelight, a brooding, plodding ballad repeats the same words over and over, a hymn to despair that asks the questions
Am I vain? have I shame?
Are my thoughts of a man
Who can call himself sane?
Do I blame, all my pain
On the wickedness
I have arranged?
Dulli is questioning everything in this song, the existential crisis of the album laid bare. All of this is simply building to the climax, the crescendo, the resolution of this movie. Dulli attempts to cast out the demons he is feeling in Bulletproof and Summer’s Kiss, while the band provides a heart pounding musical landscape for him to tell his tale. Bulletproof is the chase scene…
The waiting's over
So get on down
This time we go a little lower
The sun has broke
I stretch it out
And throw some gas into the fire
The song is thrilling, sensual and raucous. A dream, a nightmare, on display as the narrator our hero deals with his demons.
Summer’s Kiss demands to be heard live. The band displaying their prowess in this short but exhilarating 4 minutes. A reflection of love, loss, despair and redemption Greg begs Demons be gone! And finds himself ultimately alone at the end. Live this song whips the crowd into a frenzy with its brief build up intro, which once the intro ends and the guitars, bass and drums hit, it doesn’t let up emotionally or musically. Your exhausted, physically and emotionally. The song feels like an end of sorts, Summer’s Kiss is over after all. Shout out to my birth year 1973 too. ;)
This album, this story, this dark tale, a screenplay written out in lyrics screamed and guitars blazed upon a bedrock of an unbelievable rhythm tapped out on drums and bass can only end one way. Epically.
Faded, is an epic. In Bothe sheers cope, size and responsibility. On its shoulders it carries the weight of finishing the story laid out before it. And it does so in epic fashion. A simple piano intro build to a crescendo a familiar melody interlaced with the melodic guitars, crashing drums and sweeping instrumentation. Often, this song will include a connection to Bonnie Raitt’s I Can’t Make You Love Me. This song plays the same in tiny clubs as it would in giant arenas, its a big song upon which Greg resolves his dark story of love, hope, desperation, and regret. The song build upon Greg’s please and Rick’s guitar screams finally finding a spot for the story to end with a crash and a twinkle of piano playing out like the end credits scene of a hefty drama.
You can believe in me, baby
Can I believe in you?
That secret's gonna kill you
In the end
It's gonna kill
You
I love this album. It came to me at a dark time in my life, but a time where things were starting to turn around. Just a few years later I’d find love, my own resolution to my tale. While the emotions on display here no linger resonate with me as they did when I was in may 20’s the power on display still finds its way into that scar on my heart which will all carry. If you don’t know the Whigs, this may not be the best place to drop in. It’s dark, brooding, intense, scary. But if you’re looking for a good “movie” to watch on a Friday night, if you’re mending a broken heart, or reflecting on a broken soul, pour yourself a sifter of bourbon, light a cigarette and disappear into one of the greatest albums ever made.
So, I found my biological mom last week…
So, I found my biological mom last week. She’s dead.
Editor Note- I usually won’t use this site for a lot of personal stuff, but will occasionally. This was huge news and this is my available medium to share.
A little bit of my “origin” story. I was adopted. Obviously. When I was five. My adopted mother, JoAnne died shortly after. It was just me and my dad, Ray, for awhile and it was pretty great.
I knew I was adopted. I remember always living with Ray and JoAnne and I vividly recall my adoption. My biological mother was just this woman named Pam that was around occasionally. My biological father, Richard, was around even less if at all. They…they didn’t treat me well. I remember some. I suppressed a lot.
I also had younger siblings. Chris and Mandy. I vaguely remember them…
My dad remarried and suddenly I had a mom, Jean, and a brother, Bob. I lost my dad at 16. Honestly, it’s much tougher than you’d imagine for your only family to be a step family. I love them, but at this point I felt more like a orphan. Abused and neglected by my birth parents, abandoned by my adopted parents, and not well-connected to my step family. My friends became my family and always have been.
I never really had any desire to find my biological family. The only feelings I had for my birth parents were anger and ambivalence. For my siblings, only curiosity.
When my dad passed away, they all tracked me down. I received a call from my brother. I ignored him. My birth mother followed up. I yelled at her. My birth father was next. He left a message with a number. I ignored this as well. I boxed up my emotions and shoved them deep down inside.
I never much wanted to find them. I filled my life with my friends, and eventually my own family. I’d think about my siblings from time to time. I question why they weren’t adopted with me. I wonder if they had a good childhood. Curious if they are good people. But never motivated to seek them out and scared what I’d find if I did.
When I met Rebecca, I found my family. When we had Wesley I had a blood relative. I was happy.
I would still think about my biological family from time to time, but at nearly 50, I knew the likelihood of my birth parents being alive was getting less and less and the possibility of finding my siblings and having any type of relationship was also diminishing.
About two years ago I decided to get my adoption paperwork. The state of Ohio opened these records a while back so I figured why not. Even with this paperwork, there wasn’t much to go on. I did some cursory searching, but again I was never super motivated to find them, and honestly not sure what I wanted or would do if I did.
Recently I had to get Wesley’s social security card out of our lockbox, and came across my paperwork again. I decided to search my birth mother again (my birth father’s common name Richard Smith-yes I was a Junior- makes searching for him nearly impossible). And this time something came up. An obituary.
The first name, middle name and maiden name matched. Has did the birth year. The city and state of birth didn’t match…and there was no other info on the obit. If it had my siblings names? Case closed. Done deal. But nothing.
After a few days with this info I called the funeral home. They said there was really no other information they could provide me. A dead end. Literally. I said look, I know my biological siblings names. They said they couldn’t tell me what they had, but if I gave them the names I had they would say yes or no. I said “Chris and Mandy, Christopher and Amanda I guess.” After a pause that seemed to be an eternity, she responded. “Yes, Mr. Richmond.”
So, there it is. I found my biological mom. She died January 7, 2020 at 66.
I am having emotions about it, but still after living with it for a week, I can’t tell you what those emotions are. It’s weird having feelings you cannot articulate. I mean when you’e sad you can say “I’m sad.” Happy, angry, afraid. Easy. I can’t say I’m feeling (this). To be honest, not much has changed I suppose. It is at the same time, dramatic and anti-climactic. IF I found her when she was alive would I have contacted her? I don’t know. And now, I’ll never know. Probably not though. Maybe I should have just let this one go. There was enough curiosity for me to do what I did, but beyond that there still isn’t much motivation. I assume my birth father is also dead. And from my own dusty, repressed memories I’d probably not want to cross paths with him anyway. My siblings…I don’t know. I just don’t know.
I am little surprised they didn’t seek me out when she died. They’s found me before. They know my name. I’m all over the internet. That’s a question. There’s lots of questions. I just don’t know if I have the desire, motivation or heart to find the answers.
So tl;dr I found my biological mother last week. She’s dead. And I’m having feelings.