I worry I’m going to become one of those soppy old men who’s always crying at the drop of the hat because I half-remembered the time some drunk helped me carry my amp to my car after a gig that happened 40 years ago. “He told me I really rocked that night,” I would say, my eyes glazed with tears, as the nurses park my wheelchair in a corner so they can have a smoke break.  

I fucking hate that. Typically I treat sentimentality and nostalgia like toxic waste. It’s to be contained in concrete vaults deep underground or on CBS where no one under 70 will be harmed by it. 

But sometimes that knee-jerk reaction to, uh, anything involving emotions at all gets in the way of, you know, expressing emotions at all. And I don’t really want to turn into a WASP-y patrician any more than a joyously weeping sap. 

But I do want people to know when I’m happy with them so…here we go. This is the gratitude column. I’ve tried to write it in a way that isn’t too navel-gazing or homie-glazing, but that’s a hazard that I’m willing to risk. 

Happy Thanksgiving, y’all. 

THANK YOU: 

Jake: Drums and guitar, learning together in that stucco hovel. Your kid’s kit, my cheap rig. We made music even though we didn’t know any songs. Look at how far we’ve come. 

Bobby and Andre: Well if these bozos can do this, so can I. Still kinda “Wanna Be Your Dog.” 

The Boys of Pineapple Handgun: Music is allowed to be tasteless as long as it’s played poorly, right? We broke up so we could stay friends. So glad we never recorded the album. 

The Boys of U47: How do you successfully lead a band? Be a chill guy who’s a secret type A control freak. Thanks, Nick. You’re the man. Keith and Joe, you really didn’t have to indulge my drunk, jammin’ ass, but thank you, too. 

The InSINerators: I literally joined my favorite band in town. Remember Dan telling me not to noodle on stage between songs. Rookie mistake. Lesson learned. One of a hundred. Always play with musicians who are better than you. Sucks that we never recorded the album. 

Poetry Normal: No lie: the college course most useful to my current day-to-day life? A poetry appreciation course. Thanks, Mark Todd. There’s a documentary about PN’s “tour” which features us winning a contest, having a big fight, and driving from Denver to Omaha and back in one day. Hope that’s nowhere public. 

Collin: You never complained even though our bedroom walls were separated by an inch of drywall while I pounded on my acoustic like a speed bag. Rough month, I’m sure, when I tried to write a song a day. 

Bonnie: An acoustic duo?! With my voice? Fun waking up hungover on Saturday morning so I could lug a guitar and bass amp to a farmer’s market at 8:00AM. I still think The Hangups was my best band name (sorry you hated it). Your band, Tiger Electric rocks. And your songwriting and voice is severely under-heard. 

The Boys and Girls of 611 N. Main St.: We called it the “Music House” because of its dedicated studio rooms, but it was really sliding into “punk house” decrepitude by the time I left it. I remember a plumber telling me its water heater should be in his office because it was still working after 30 years. Should really be thanking our neighbors never once called the cops, even as our boozy, screechy jams tore into the wee hours of the morning.

Brady: You’re an unending fount of creation. Thanks for taking a chance on me while I wasn’t at my best. I’m sorry our musical timetables never quite synched up. 

The Boys of FlowLines: You can just answer a Craigslist ad and be in a band by the end of the week – as long as you’re willing to play bass. Protip: If you’re recording in the studio all weekend long, take a day off work, otherwise it’ll feel like you’ve worked two weeks straight. Lee, I’m glad we’ve kept in touch. Patrick, I’m sorry we haven’t. 

The Boys of Part Time Ghost: Josh can jam and shred, but he never gets in the way of the song. Keiton might have the most balanced character build of any musician I know; he can sing, dance, groove, and chill. There’s more to come from these reprobates.  

Nic:

In the Music House, I came up with the concept of Hot/Smart/Nice, in that no matter who you’re dating, you’ll only ever, at best, get two of those qualities in the same person. Nic is hot, smart, and nice.  

The Boys and Girl (!) of Heck Reckoners: You can build a really solid floor as a band without a good singer, but your ceiling will only ever be so high. Kylee, way to raise that ceiling. Also: a shout out to Wagner, and the Wagners of the world. There’s always at least one mate who plays way beneath their skill level to fit into a band. Glue guys and gals hold the world together.   

Brent: I’m amazed at your depths of knowledge, creativity, and precision. I don’t think there’s a sound around that you couldn’t recreate. You’re a modern day wizard.

The Boys of Thic Masc: Patrick, Jon, Jackson, Nic, I’m honored to be starting this journey together with you all. I’ve never had a project come together so quickly. Let’s make some dope rock & roll.  

The Velvet Underground and The Stooges: Showed me that I didn’t have to have Cher’s tummy of Jimmy Page’s chops to make rock & roll that had brains and loins. Anyone – literally anyone – can pick up an instrument, get with their friends, and create something compelling. 

Fugazi’s Ian MacKaye said a Cramps show from 1979 inspired him to pursue a life in music. The Cramps similarly inspired me, although its lead singer Lux Interior wasn’t long for this world when I finally got serious about music, so it wasn’t a live show.

It was their 1984 compilation album, this Week’s Heck Record, Bad Music For Bad People.  In 31 minutes, it showed me how to nail the aesthetics of a band. 

The best groups build their own world. They have a point of view, a unique look, and a distinct sound. You can read their lyrics, look at a picture or album cover, or listen to any of their songs and know instantly that you’re dealing with The Cramps. That’s s-tier band-making. I’m tryin’, folks.   

I’m so thankful for music.