It takes four to form a Rock Band - guitar, bass, mic and drums - and back then, we had four. After the failure of our real-life band, the tentatively titled Keith and the Minions, broken up before it even started due to pubescent power struggles, we turned to the only thing we had left - our only outlet for some musical excitement in those days.
We were young and we had everything ahead of us - plenty of time to suck. Plenty of time to Rock. The four of us wouldn’t be in the same location for quite some time - a weekend here, a day there, whenever we could take a day or two off our mounting self-created responsibilities - shackled with debt and lack of motivation with our increasingly fettered lives.
The last thing we want to do now is pick up our crestfallen plastic instruments and suck - but then, we had all the time in the world.
Oh yeah
Alright
I play Bass, my weapon of choice. In truth, it’s the simplest to play. I suck the most out of the four of us - the lone Jewish kid in our ethnically and racially diverse foursome. With hair like Bob Dylan and none of the talent to match, I wait for the Drummer - the most skilled among us - to boot up the game. It’s complicated to start it using the drums, but it gets done. Besides, we could wait. To borrow a lyric from late, great Louis Armstrong, we had all the time in the world.
In those days, we cycled through two songs because we were either too poor at being plastic musicians or just didn’t have the mental capacity to find other songs. Between Weezer’s Say it Ain’t Soand Radiohead’s Creep, we had our work cut out for us.
We needed to get worse before we got better, in other words - or at least, I did.
Somebody’s Heine’
Is crowdin’ my icebox
Somebody’s cold one
Is givin’ me chills
Guess I’ll just close my eyes
We were too young to be downing cold ones, at least without sneaking the occasional one from our parents. We had neither the funds or capacity to get our own own. We lacked connections outside of the local liquor cabinet. Now, we drink because we don’t know what else to do. Back then, we did it to experiment.
Just a great experiment.
Flip on the tele
Wrestle with Jimmy
Something is bubbling
Behind my back
The bottle is ready to blow
We distract ourselves and experiment more because we don’t know what else to do. We don’t want to go back to school. As Pink Floys once said, We don’t need no education. But we play along anyway, because it’s the only option.
Because it’s the right thing to do.
I alternate between the first and third buttons, failing to keep any sort of rhythm. The game berates us - or at least, it berates me. Everyone else seems to be doing fine.
Caught up in their own little worlds.
Say it ain’t so
Your drug is a heartbreaker
Say it ain’t so
My love is a life taker
We disappoint others, but more importantly, we disappoint ourselves. It doesn’t come naturally. Nothing comes naturally. It still doesn’t. It’s as though all the cool and all the swagger is sucked out of us. Like we are completely subjugated. But we don’t let that stop us. At least I don’t let it stop me; I continue to not keep a rhythm, breaking barriers of mediocrity. But it’s not a struggle - there’s nothing to triumph over.
It’s just us., and what’s in front of us. It seemed endless.
I can’t confront you
I never could do
That which might hurt you
So try and be cool
When I say
This way is a waterslide away from me
That takes you further every day
So be cool
We keep calm and carry on. With our plastic instruments ,we are masters of our own domain. Non-confrontational and non-aggressive, we let the world pass us by. We don’t seize the day, or the moment, or even the hour. We just let it wash all over us. Like a waterslide, we move downward and backwards, but never in a forward direction.
Never in a direction that matters. Progress eludes us. We’re a plastic garage band that doesn’t get better, playing the same melodies over and over - like it was our only respite from the day-in and the day-out.
But we didn’t know how good we had it. We were cooler than we ever could have imagined.
Dear Daddy
I write you in spite of years of silence
You’ve cleaned up, found Jesus, things are good or so I hear
This bottle of Steven’s awakens ancient feelings
Like father, stepfather, the son is drowning in the flood
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
I’m the only one out of all of us - the only one that feels like there’s tangible goals, dreams and desires to accomplish. The only one that feels like drifting through existence- like there’s something better out there.
But not now. Not when we’re playing Rock Band. It’s just me and my poor plastic Bass - I’m worse at this than I am at playing real guitar. But I don’t keep up with either, of course - with so many options, how can I be expected to choose?
We go upstairs and sneak a few cold ones from the fridge. We have all the time in the world. It’s all in front of us. At least that’s what it felt like, back then.
Daniel Horowitz
@horowitzcentral
Latest posts by Daniel Horowitz (see all)
- Deux Ex Writer and BioWare Designer Kickstart Sienna Storm - 20 August 2024
- Blizzard Announces WoW Subscription Price Increase for UK - 18 August 2024
- Defining Moments - Rock Band - 17 August 2024
