You think about childhood and try to remember but it is difficult to access these memories. You know that you were there and wonder who that person was and where was it. You were playing with your action figures, making up imaginary scenarios and producing sound effects just like you saw in your favourite movies and cartoons. And you played hockey with your friends outside and video games where you pretended to be the commentator also while you played. You watched your heroes play on tv and sometimes went to hockey games in Toronto. It was such an exciting world. You felt incredible when your team scored or won and this strange emptiness and temporary annoyance when they lost because you won and lost with them, You felt like you were part of the team. You ran around outside with your friends when school was finished and on the weekends and during the summer holidays. You were free. You rarely spent any money except on some candy now and then, maybe a new wrestling magazine or a new CD.
You heard music everywhere and some of your relatives had instruments which they messed around with. Guitars, pianos. You loved drawing with your friends and noticed how talented some of them were and how you would copy their styles and impress your other friends who thought you were better than them. You wonder what ever happened to Billy and Joey and Seppo and other old friends (all good drawers). You went to art class and drew more and even learned to paint a little bit. Your mom thought your stuff was really good but eventually you stopped drawing because you just didn’t feel like you were good enough. You weren’t expressing anything, just imitating. You had nothing to say in this medium,
But music was something else. You were fascinated with it. It seemed to have this incredible capacity to go beyond your thoughts and just right in to the very depths of your being. You came across some great artists and songs. Alice Cooper’s Poison. The Beatles. Queen. Rhythm Is A Dancer. The Boxer. Led Zeppelin. CCR. You got some shitty keyboard one xmas with drum sounds on it. You loved Imagine and you were blown away by that first drum fill before the chorus kicks in so you learned to play the piano thingy and the drum fill on your shitty keyboard. This is how it all began.
You started playing a real piano and took lessons from this old lady Ms. Leatherdale (first name Edith) who was classically trained. She played really well. There was this calmness to her playing and personality. She taught you how to read music and you began going through these classical music books with different grade levels. You progressed well. Practised at home and then went to your weekly lessons with your sister. When spring came, all of her students performed a solo piece at a recital where all the parents came to watch their young pianists fumble away some tunes. There was always a grand piano there and it felt really different to the upright pianos you were used to.
But then the guitar bands started to dominate your entire existence. Green Day, Offspring, Pennywise and other punk stuff. Guitar was just cooler. You got this guitar book from the library that taught you how to play Old McDonald Had A Farm with two strings on the acoustic guitar. There were guitars around the house because your dad played but it seemed to difficult for you until now. Clapton’s unplugged was a big hit at the time and you tried to figure out some of the songs with the tab book they made for it. You got more and more into it. You fell in love with the guitar. Nirvana also made an unplugged album and you got really into them after Kurt died and that album was a hit. You read books and magazine articles on Kurt. He seemed like an interesting character. Oasis took things to the next level when Wonderwall came along. This was something different you thought. The sound. The video. The brothers. The confidence. The songs. The swagger. You became obsessed with Oasis like Billy (the same guy who could draw) and you remember how he had a Zero t-shirt just like Billy Corgan from Smashing Pumpkins (another band you were obsessed with).
You feel good as you think about those times. Just the excitement and freedom of rock music. You still love these bands but haven’t listened to them for awhile. You would like to buy those albums again. Now everything is on the internet. No more magazines and books and posters and CDs and mixtape. Something has been lost but you don’t quite know what it is. You remember going to Finland every summer and seeing what new albums your cousin and uncle had. They always listened to great music. Your uncle was into 80s stuff like Toto, Tears For Fears. Your cousin introduced you to many of the bands already mentioned. You listened to the music your friends listened to.
And then Metallica came along and blew everything else out of the stratosphere. You remember knowing about them already before this happened. You had a friend who was into them but for you they were too intimidating, dark and scary. But when you went to a Maple Leafs game and Enter Sandman came on the speakers during a break, the power of that music completely annihilated your senses. They sounded like 10 bands in one. You felt inspired. You wanted more and pretty soon they were the only music you were listening to. You got all their albums, the guitar books, posters, magazines and covered your room in Metallica. You even joined their fan club and still remember the number (met club member 56743). You dreamed of one day having an ESP guitar just like your Gods Hetfield and Hammett. You spent your free time listening and learning the songs on guitar. You started cover bands with friends to play the songs as instrumentals because nobody knew how to sing. You all sucked on your instruments but nobody cared, you just wanted to play loud and get all your anger out. You didn’t even know what you were angry at, it just felt good to have all this energy. You got into other metal guitar stuff and wanted to be the fastest guitarist on the planet. This was the only thing that mattered.
