Opening Acts

I had a desire to be "Comfortably Numb" like the Pink Floyd song and become an advocate to myself for inner peace. Instead, my teenage angst was propelled by a Superbowl performance of an unknown rock band I would later come to be a devout fan of, the Red Hot Chili Peppers. Ignorant to their name, I moved onto the punk scene with "Don't Stop" by 5 Seconds of Summer and numerous Nirvana songs such as, "Come as You Are" "Dumb" and of course, "Smells Like Teen Spirit."

It wasn't until I was in a car packed with teenagers listening to "Power of Equality" by Red Hot Chili Peppers that I felt the first chain around my soul drop. I was led down a cycle of dope using and dancing to songs like "Go Robot" by Red Hot Chili Peppers, "Little Wing" by Jimi Hendrix, "Undone - The Sweater Song" by Weezer. I danced to "Guillotine" by Death Grips in a basement crowded with those I loved. Then, my stereo heart was ripped from the plug of discovery, by a man who thought he knew how to play a melody, but had never learned how to carry a tune.



I fell into a depression, believing I had lost all the people I admired. I began listening to "Santa Monica Dream" by Angus & Julia Stone, "Clementine" by Sarah Jaffe, and the song "Lua" by Bright Eyes. They were all songs devoid of devotion to musical talent and exceptional skill, but they were also all echoing the vibration I felt within my hollowing ribs - a soft cry for something more. It was enough for me to soak up their waves because they crashed onto me like a weight of relief that I needed squeezed into me. I couldn't find that relief in the people that passed me by.

It wasn't until that summer that I was truly ripped from everyone I admired. As a reward for my sacrifice, I gained a family of rats and weasels and I could only have the release that music brought. There was no other viable option for me to "be". Th dullest of familial love silenced me when I wished to scream, so I listened to the screams of "Death Church" by Machine Head or "Last Caress" by Misfits and Glenn Danzig. They mimicked my anger, even if I did not interpret their lyrics to my own situation. It was enough at the time to be a vessel of their exhausted words.

What is rage without sorrow? When my rage was too weary I stifled it with the echoes that revelled from Linkin Park's, "The Messenger". It was a reminder that even love can't always prevail. "Pothole" by Tyler, the Creator and Jaden Smith accompanied me on my getaway to school. Vertical Horizon's "Best I Ever Had (Grey Sky Morning)" accompanied me on my trudges home. Back then, "Three Little Birds" by Bob Marley only whispered to me that I was okay.

My days dropped colder as spring drew closer, and I couldn't listen to those songs with the same intensity. I couldn't listen with an open heart and open ears until I screamed out, turned around and drove away from the home I was confined to. As I rode away I listened to "How's it Going to Be" by Third Eye Blind until I found Tom Petty and fell freely into an era of generation X nostalgia. "Take it Easy" by Eagles, "If You Leave Me Now" by Chicago, and "Heart of Gold" by Niel Young were just the beginning of a concert of chaos that would soon erupt in my life. A concert that would eventually lead me to believe that I am a playlist of punk and funk. I can sing. I can be heard. I can change genres, and I'm the only one who has to listen now.