Music has played an integral part of my life and development as a writer. I was raised on Led Zeppelin, the Beatles, ELO, Talking Heads, and so on. I was into Robert Palmer’s Heavy Nova album when I was nine. My first concert was Nirvana in 1993. I learned how to write poetry through The Smashing Pumpkins, The Cure. I had my heart broken by the Smashing Pumpkins and vowed to never let a woman ever come between me and my music ever again. I raid the public library for CDs (because fuck you, reading).
See my indie cred up top? Here's what tempers it: in the middle there's Phil Collins first solo album No Jacket Required and Def Leppard's Pyromania. All I'm missing is some Crue, GnR, and Metallica (pre-haircut).
I. love. music. If a choice was made where I have to give up sex or give up music, I’m perfectly o.k. with eating large quantities of salt peter for the rest of my life.
The last few years, I’ve had great concert luck on my birthday. 25 was Cursive when they had a cellist, 26 was The Good Life, 29 was Radiohead, 30 was Kings of Leon, Death Cab For Cutie, Nine Inch Nails/Jane’s Addiction…in the same week. It made me a little sad that at 31, I had nothing to celebrate and I think it was the universe’s way of saying broheim, you have to suffer for awhile and the universe was right: I had to because of this
LCD Soundsystem and The National will be in Orlando. Back to back. Near what would have been my wedding anniversary. When I read the news, I screamed like a seven-year-old boy who just shot his first flaming arrow from a crossbow. I’m planning on going. I might buy an extra ticket and take someone (I have no idea who) so they can share in this moment of awesomeness. Concerts, I missed you. Thank you for coming back to me.
Behold
This is my tired face.
The J. Beardley project will last until Labor Day. Very few will talk me out of it. Co-workers will be far too polite to say anything, as they were the last time I rocked the Castro. When I come back to Orlando after my long stay in Indy, I will shear it. Until then, viva la revolution, motherfuckers!
Greetings fellow music fan/poet. I’ve been a huge fan of Phil Collins & Genesis, however Phil’s first solo album was Face Value.
Oops – you are probably right.