Not to sound like a broken record but: my friend died. No, not that one; a different one. Pat. The person who in middle school introduced me to punk rock as a lifestyle. Who I was lucky enough to call my best friend from my late teens through early 20s, before I got too old and cool to have "best friends." A beautiful, gentle man whose absurd sense of humor and small, sweet gestures made our awful reality just a little bit better.
I wish the world had been better to him.
I feel a deep, wrenching regret that I didn't try to reach out to him for so many years, to make sure that he knew how much he and his friendship meant to me, how deep my love for him was.
We have to say what we mean while we still can.
I am exhausted by grief. I'm tired of feeling it, of witnessing it, and of talking about it. Tired of more and more songs being added to the pile of songs that I can't listen to unless I have an hour to recover. But most of all, I am tired of losing friends. It's an inevitability of life, but for fuck's sake, I'm 42. Why do I know so many dead people?
Pat loved as wide a variety of music as I did. He was the first friend of mine who liked Springsteen -- I didn't get on board until years later, but I do have fond memories of walking around Towson Town Center with him, laughing my ass off as he screamed the lyrics to "Born in the USA". We got into and obsessed over Radiohead and Nine Inch Nails together. Eventually, by way of Dystopia and Grief, we got into doom metal. He fucking loved Asunder. I remember his MySpace page used to autoplay "Twilight Amaranthine". Here's A Clarion Call.
After I found out, I was digging around in crates, looking for my old notebooks, in which he and I used to jot down stupid ideas for joke bands, made up languages, drew unflattering sketches of mutual friends, shit like that. Pretty sure I hadn't looked in them for over a decade. Inside the front cover of one, I found a small, folded piece of paper. On the outside, it says "To Tim, Love from Pat. Happy birthday." Unfolded, the inside just says "I love you." It fucking wrecked me, and it's wrecking me right now just thinking about it. I love you too, Pat.
I have been downloading music from you for something like six years now. Like 75% of what you post is entirely not my style. But I still take the time to read every post as a small thank you for the awesome output you have kept up over the years. Its strange to do so, as you start to develop one of those weird parasocial, "I know this guy" type feelings after reading somebodies musings for so long. All of this rambling is to say that I genuinely appreciate what you do. I am sorry you are going through such a rough patch right now. I have nothing to offer but my sympathies and the simple knowledge that I, and so many other visitors, are grateful for what you have to say and your awesome music recommendations. I did not know Pat. I do not know you. But what you are doing here means something and I bet your younger selves would've fucking dug it.
ReplyDeleteWell. sounds like it's about time that somebody up there cut you some slack; it's been a bad year or so for you and I can only sympathise. I'm nearly 30 years older than you and live on another continent - further to that, the places where our musical tastes intersect seem to be getting fewer as the years pass, but what you have suffered and how you write about it affects me more than many other blogs I visit and though I have considered visiting less often or not at all. I keep coming back and stuff like this makes me glad that I do. I won't bother you with empty cliches because nothing I say will ease your grief, but if it matters to you, I'm still out here and still reading.
ReplyDeleteWhat the anonymouses said.
ReplyDeleteJust wanted to offer my condolences to you
ReplyDeleteI'm basically greedy. Although as others have said I may not like all the music you post, you continue to post some great stuff, largely unknown to me. I'm greedy because I was so hoping that after your earlier loss you were recovering and would start to post more frequently. And now Pat has gone. I am very sorry for your loss, it goes without saying as it were. I started to lose friends and family fairly regularly in my mid forties and I'm in my early 60s now. It doesn't really get any better. That's all the wisdom I have. Be strong and try to look after yourself.
ReplyDeleteHoping you find some peace, thank you for sharing this with us. And yeah, if there was ever music heavy enough to wash away grief, asunder is close
ReplyDeleteSo sorry to hear another friend has fallen so early. My deepest sympathies for what that's worth
ReplyDeleteSorry for your loss, Spirit. Hope the pain goes away soon. Great pic...
ReplyDeleteI'm bad with words, so I'll have to agree with Hingehead
ReplyDeleteSincerely sorry for your loss, and thank you for all this beautiful dark music. Hope it will help you grieve.
ReplyDeleteDear Spirit, I have been following your blog since 2015. While I love and know about half the music you post, the other half I did not, but fell in love with it because of you. It’s been a pleasure to read about your thoughts, your life and sharing passions. As I approach my half a century of having to navigate my soul through life, nothing and I mean nothing hits you like losing someone you love. I am sorry for your lost. I was hoping and wishing that you would have a peaceful joy filled year, a break from the crap. Or at least being able to have a lukewarm mundane year. Please know that you bring us a lot joy, and I am truly appreciative of the work that goes into Opiumhum. I am glad to have gotten to know a bit about you, a lot of great tunes and for making my existence just a bit better. With my deepest sympathy.
ReplyDeleteR.I.P. to your friend.
ReplyDeleteGrief Is The Bastard.
ReplyDeleteThank you for sharing this. Some things go far beyond the music.
Stay strong, man. Fuerte abrazo.
ReplyDeleteReading these words, and having known you through your blog and music for 10 years now, I feel like I've lost a friend too. I wish you strength and stamina, pal. I'll play Bonnie "Prince" Billy's "I see a darkness" in memoriam for Pat now.
ReplyDeleteI lost both my parents (on the same day) about a year ago and I just had a dream about my late father last night. I think about them every day. Rest in peace to your friend and my deepest condolences to you.
ReplyDeleteThat picture is priceless in every way, thank you for posting. Pat, J, and D all had a gift for being obsessed with certain music and certain things, and I used to love hanging with this/your crew back in those Portland days. Its hard to believe so many are gone now. It's like some bad curse, and I hope to hell that it's over now. Take care too
ReplyDeleteI'm sincerely sorry for your lost...
ReplyDeleteI am going to keep in better contact with my best friend. Thank you for sharing these beautiful words.
ReplyDeleteHey man, I don't usually comment and just silently download the things you post, but in this case you and your late friend made me discover a great band that I didn't know and that I've listening non-stop in the last couple of days. Sorry for your loss.
ReplyDeleteno one prepares you for the amount of death you experience once you turn 40. im sorry for what you're going through. live every day like its your last and remember your buddy and share your stories like you're doing.
ReplyDeleteDude, maybe this fucking intense, depressive and emotional music that we're inclined to, maybe called to, has the purpose of helping us to deal with the misery of life - because we could be listening to happy music, to easy melodies from the pop radios, but for some reason the music that pleases us is dark, sinister and full of sadness.
ReplyDeleteOf course, it can be just chance.
But maybe there's an reason.
I love sad music since ever and one day I'll write about it - to share my researchs.
In 1996 I heard Danzig IV (I know, much people hates the guy, but give it a try and you'll get a bath of sadness) and suicidal thoughts circled me like clouds. Sad music became my favourite genre - and later I started to look for sad music not only in the rock unverse, but in all music genres.
I passed a long station in the DSBM.
Of course, in a certain point I decided to move away from it, literaly to don't be drowned - and now I balance reflexive and melancholic music with some heavy sheets of intense sadness.
But the point is: in 2012, very unexpectedly, my dad committed suicide. It was terrible. I would never imagine, it was impossible.
And music was my way to deal with it (alongside medical treatment).
'Walk on by' by Dianne Warwick and Nick Drake repeating in the MP3.
Peace man.
Go on with this great blog, but take a time when needed.
Your mental health is more important.
Just a note:
dealing with loss, I had collect some great albuns and maybe some can help you
Frail Body - A brief memorian
Captain Jazz - Captain Jazz
Clarice Jensen - The experience of repetition as death
Sorry to hear about this going on in your life. Even though I've never known you, been coming to this blog for years and downloading so much and had fun reading your comments about the music, that it almost seems like i do know you a bit. Started with metal stuff, but then took the chance to get a lot of other things as well, so you introduced me to The beautiful south, Low, Marissa Nadler and lots more that I can't remember right now. Much appreciated!
ReplyDeleteSuspected for some time that we are about the same age, this post proves that we are indeed, exactly the same.
Having people our own age die seems more than just the passing of a person. It's like a part of our time, our "epoch" dying. The emptiness is palpable.
This hit me hard when a guy who was 3 years older than me, and not really a friend, but a really good acquaintance, died of cancer in february last year. His family had put together a long slideshow with pictures from his life. And there it was - all of it - the same typical dress styles and haircuts we went through, the same concerts, same musical instruments and equipment, same car models, the way rooms and furniture looked. Even just the colors and texture of old scanned photos. His life, but then - a piece of my own life, gone.
Yeah, there was a time I thought that only old people die. But that was long ago. Now I've seen colleagues, classmates and friends of friends pass away. So far I'm lucky, all true friends still here. And still no answer to why it seems so hard to take that context that death puts things in, any further in life than a few weeks at most after the event. Life goes on, I guess.
Wishing you all the best.
This hits hard - I, like a lot of others, have followed your posts for awhile and have been introduced to so much great music by you. Thanks for everything you've shared, and I hope you catch a break from grief soon.
ReplyDeleteI am so sorry for your loss. It is terrible to loose a person that has been important in your life. I hope you find a way to overcome your grief at some point.
ReplyDeleteAnd I wanted to thank you for this blog. I don't remember how I found it and I have to say that you share a lot of music that I don't understand or just don't particularly like but I've found some real treasures here and it's also sometimes great to be exposed to music that is completley new to me.
All the best from Berlin, Germany
Like many others, I have been keeping an eye on your blog for many years and discovering a bunch of good stuff in the process. It is hard to add anything substantial to what has already been said, so just sending lots of positive vibes and best wishes your way. What you are doing here is meaningful, and I think all these responses attest to that. Hang tough in there my man.
ReplyDeleteOn Saturday I found out my childhood friend died 5 years ago. We'd always drifted in and out of each other's orbits over the years, but it had been a good while since we'd caught up and I decided it was well overdue. I didn't have contact deets for him anymore so I resorted to Google and the first thing that came up was a memorial post on socials from his bandmates. He died April 2020. I met him in grade 1 and the last time I saw him in the flesh we were 23. Had a few online check-ins over the decade, but it's just not the same.
ReplyDeleteFrom what you wrote above it sounds like both our friends had extremely similar impacts on our lives - like, I don't know if I would have become an musician or painter or any of the myriad arty farty whatever's I've been in my lifetime without his influence - and I'm feeling the same thing hey. I should have reached out sooner. It's bloody weird synchronicity seeing your post, so definitely feeling you.
In honor, I've been listening to Mr. Bungle's first record, and a lot of early Beck, especially 'Mellow Gold' cos we both loved that record to death.
I haven't seen his face for years and damn, I'm missing him.
Hope you're doing ok dude, and thank you for the music as always.