I took the best art class I ever had at Tri-C my senior year of high school. My art teacher was part-timing it between three different schools and would sit in the middle of the room while we workedand tell stories about Jamaica and Mexico and her three previous husbands and hanging out with Sting and would let us listen to almost any music we wanted to. It was a fun three hours every morning, and I learned how to take my mediocre skills and translate them into something that worked.
Me and my classmate Tony would bring in all sorts of CDs as we were feverishly discovering new sounds and figuring out what we liked, climbing out of the teenage nu-metal abyss into adulthood. It was a great group of people who didn't shred each other's work to pieces and I found myself using many of her techniques in my own art later on.
She was a huge Morphine fan, and told about how the singer had a heart attack on stage a few years back. I found a couple of their CDs at the library a few years later and was hooked on the sound that really didn't sound like anything else. On a hot summer night two Junes ago, I played a huge chunk of "Cure for Pain" my second night on the air, and it just felt so perfect.
Tomorrow night I'll be hitting up the Beachland Tavern to see the surviving members of that band with my longtime friend who like me loves all things 90's.
"People always try to give you free advice, and that's something I've always tried, but you get what you pay for that's what I say, and now I'm paying and paying and paying..."
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment