I miss being in a band.
intensely.
I remember in tenth grade, when I was in the same chemistry class with James and Matt and Aaron, and we all sat in the back on the first day and we were like a cool little gang, because we were in a fucking band together.
I was like, "this is what it felt like to be Billie Joe Armstrong and Mike Dirnt in high school. fuck yes."
Friday night band practice was my salvation, no matter how shitty the week was.
and in tenth grade, there were a lot of shitty weeks.
we honestly thought we were going somewhere for a while.
James and Tom and I wanted to, so badly.
of course we didn't. nobody wanted to sing. we broke up.
and we got together senior year, again.
January. God knows, I needed some kind of salvation, some kind of escape in January. and it was perfect.
I never liked Blink-182 until this year. I still don't like them, per se, but they've been making me nostalgic in a weird way. nostalgic for hating them so much in junior high, I guess.
Matt Wagner stepped up to sing. he's not exactly a virtuoso but fuck, neither was Joe Strummer, you know?
I just remember playing "Dammit," which I had never played before, which I learned from James in about thirty seconds. bless you, Blink, for being terrible musicians.
it was exactly what I needed.
a year ago I'd have never admitted it but there's something true in a lot of music I used to write off. there's something true in that song, and it's so simple that I could absolutely let myself go and shout the words along with everyone and be completely absorbed in it.
debate my word choice here, I certainly won't blame you, but there's something about that, about punk music, that I'm addicted to. you can commit to it in a way I've never been able to with many other kinds of music, you don't have to think, you don't have to get tripped up in your brain like I always do, you just thrash out your three chords and let the catharsis happen.
naturally, the band mk. II lasted about three practices. we were all going to college anyway.
intensely.
I remember in tenth grade, when I was in the same chemistry class with James and Matt and Aaron, and we all sat in the back on the first day and we were like a cool little gang, because we were in a fucking band together.
I was like, "this is what it felt like to be Billie Joe Armstrong and Mike Dirnt in high school. fuck yes."
Friday night band practice was my salvation, no matter how shitty the week was.
and in tenth grade, there were a lot of shitty weeks.
we honestly thought we were going somewhere for a while.
James and Tom and I wanted to, so badly.
of course we didn't. nobody wanted to sing. we broke up.
and we got together senior year, again.
January. God knows, I needed some kind of salvation, some kind of escape in January. and it was perfect.
I never liked Blink-182 until this year. I still don't like them, per se, but they've been making me nostalgic in a weird way. nostalgic for hating them so much in junior high, I guess.
Matt Wagner stepped up to sing. he's not exactly a virtuoso but fuck, neither was Joe Strummer, you know?
I just remember playing "Dammit," which I had never played before, which I learned from James in about thirty seconds. bless you, Blink, for being terrible musicians.
it was exactly what I needed.
a year ago I'd have never admitted it but there's something true in a lot of music I used to write off. there's something true in that song, and it's so simple that I could absolutely let myself go and shout the words along with everyone and be completely absorbed in it.
debate my word choice here, I certainly won't blame you, but there's something about that, about punk music, that I'm addicted to. you can commit to it in a way I've never been able to with many other kinds of music, you don't have to think, you don't have to get tripped up in your brain like I always do, you just thrash out your three chords and let the catharsis happen.
naturally, the band mk. II lasted about three practices. we were all going to college anyway.
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