Losing a Grandparent...
Yesterday evening, we were having a discussion at Chris' house about the direction we need to take, and the steps we need to follow in order to maintain, or maybe even find focus as a band. While we were there, Chris unceremoniously informed us that one of my all time favorite bands, Grandaddy, has decided to break up.
Since then, my mind hasn't sat still, my emotions have been scattered, and I can't stop listening to their wonderful music.
I think every musician has a list of bands whom they elevate above the rest. It's a short list, but it's the groups which push you musically and emotionally, who are so creative, and unique, and wonderful, that their music can't ever be played in the background, because you find yourself focusing on the music, instead of the project your trying to work on. I have a list of those bands, and Grandaddy is one of them.
When you have lived a life of isolation like I have, you find things to fill the void, emotional contacts through other mediums, be it literature, television, movies, paintings, or music. I remember growing up, I often felt closer to certain authors, or movie characters than I did my peers in high school. Musicians were very easy to relate to. After I bought my first Nirvana album, I remember that the feeling of lonliness that constantly nagged at me, was a little lessened. And I would find music that spoke to me, that I identified with, and I would feel like I had found a new friend, someone who must have felt what I was feeling, because that emotion was being conveyed so perfectly through music.
After I returned from Colombia, a good friend of mine, who later got married, moved to Atlanta and disappeared from the face of the planet (and to whom I will always be grateful), introduced me to two new musical experiences, which would become some of the most important in my life. The first was Jeff Buckley's album Grace. The second, was Grandaddy's album, The Sophtware Slump.
From the first two words "Adrift Again 2000 man", to the closing notes of "So You'll Aim Toward the Sky", this was one of those albums that transcended what I understood music to be. It is sublimely beautiful. It is touching, and heartbreaking, and ugly, and wonderful, all at once. This is one of those CD's that can change your life.
But not only does Grandaddy hold a place in my world for their musical abilities, but also for their encouragement. After my return from Colombia, I was struggling to find my musical voice. I had even less self confidence than I do today (yes, it is possible), and felt I had nothing to offer the outside world. I had recorded a couple of simple songs on accoustic guitar, and on a whim, I sent them via e-mail to Grandaddy. A few days later, I received an e-mail back from Jason Lytle, the lead singer/songwriter of the group, saying he liked my music, and encouraging me to keep working at it. I doubt he even remembers doing this, but it meant the world to me. Whenever I feel like calling it quits, or feel my musical world collapsing around me, I'll I have to do is remember that someone who I admire, thinks that there is a glint of worth in what I'm doing, and suddenly, things don't seem so overwhelming.
Grandaddy, you will be missed more than you can ever understand. Thank you for fifteen years of wonderful music.
If you haven't heard this band, please, listen to them.
www.grandaddylandscape.com
Since then, my mind hasn't sat still, my emotions have been scattered, and I can't stop listening to their wonderful music.
I think every musician has a list of bands whom they elevate above the rest. It's a short list, but it's the groups which push you musically and emotionally, who are so creative, and unique, and wonderful, that their music can't ever be played in the background, because you find yourself focusing on the music, instead of the project your trying to work on. I have a list of those bands, and Grandaddy is one of them.
When you have lived a life of isolation like I have, you find things to fill the void, emotional contacts through other mediums, be it literature, television, movies, paintings, or music. I remember growing up, I often felt closer to certain authors, or movie characters than I did my peers in high school. Musicians were very easy to relate to. After I bought my first Nirvana album, I remember that the feeling of lonliness that constantly nagged at me, was a little lessened. And I would find music that spoke to me, that I identified with, and I would feel like I had found a new friend, someone who must have felt what I was feeling, because that emotion was being conveyed so perfectly through music.
After I returned from Colombia, a good friend of mine, who later got married, moved to Atlanta and disappeared from the face of the planet (and to whom I will always be grateful), introduced me to two new musical experiences, which would become some of the most important in my life. The first was Jeff Buckley's album Grace. The second, was Grandaddy's album, The Sophtware Slump.
From the first two words "Adrift Again 2000 man", to the closing notes of "So You'll Aim Toward the Sky", this was one of those albums that transcended what I understood music to be. It is sublimely beautiful. It is touching, and heartbreaking, and ugly, and wonderful, all at once. This is one of those CD's that can change your life.
But not only does Grandaddy hold a place in my world for their musical abilities, but also for their encouragement. After my return from Colombia, I was struggling to find my musical voice. I had even less self confidence than I do today (yes, it is possible), and felt I had nothing to offer the outside world. I had recorded a couple of simple songs on accoustic guitar, and on a whim, I sent them via e-mail to Grandaddy. A few days later, I received an e-mail back from Jason Lytle, the lead singer/songwriter of the group, saying he liked my music, and encouraging me to keep working at it. I doubt he even remembers doing this, but it meant the world to me. Whenever I feel like calling it quits, or feel my musical world collapsing around me, I'll I have to do is remember that someone who I admire, thinks that there is a glint of worth in what I'm doing, and suddenly, things don't seem so overwhelming.
Grandaddy, you will be missed more than you can ever understand. Thank you for fifteen years of wonderful music.
If you haven't heard this band, please, listen to them.
www.grandaddylandscape.com
posted by The Sixth Man at 9:00 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home