Let It Be

Yeah, this down time is letting the tug of music get back at me. I usedtacould play drums, something I can still sorta do if I rehearse for a few months to get the rust out. I get funky about time having passed and having let the skills I once had drain away. This week in particular has been tough. I watched a true heavy metal warrior destory his elaborate drum kit at Coachella, then came back to LA the next night for a Gary Louris and Mark Olsen reunion at The Troubadour, then saw my friend Bill's band up the street at The Silverlake Lounge, then read the NY Times article about New Orleans Jazz Fest, then hammering home the final, bittersweet nail in the coffin, read this review of The Replacements new track from the upcoming box set. Now, I don't know how many of you are 'Mats fans or if you know anything about them at all, but these guys pretty much signify everything rock n roll about rock n roll. In the mythology of rock these guys sit atop Mt. Olympus. They grew up in blue collar America, drank hard, fought, started out punk then mellowed (slightly) into a more radio friendly kinda deal, gigged drunk on SNL, one of the guys died, and their moody lead singer is a clinically diagnosed depressive. In other words they are / were arguably the best american band that ever was. And it's good to read that it's all still there, the mythology, the crankiness, the confusion about what the fuck to do with it all, and oh yeah the rock. And I guess the lesson is that even when it's gone maybe it's still there somewhere, deep beneath the layers of recrimination and heavy sighs of past glories, something I'll do well to ponder in this music saturated bout of unemployment slash aimlessness slash depsondancy.

Anyfuckingway look for that box set when it comes out. I know I will. And if you can't commit to four CDs worth, at least do yourself a favor - if you care at all about music - go get yourself Let It Be. And Tim. Fuck it, and get Please To Meet Me, too. Shit will change your life.