An act of aging or pretentious music stage, call it what you will, but in my (very) early twenties I hit a point where I scoffed at pretty much anything new being played on radio stations. I hit my teens as grunge snatched the airwaves away from hairbands and then pop-punk hit hard partway through high school. Pop fluctuated between sex heavy to sugary sweet implied sex heavy. I'd hit saturation of whatever new(-ish) sound was du jour.
So, when the next big thing in rock flooded radio stations, I wasn't having it. I wasn't interested in the.next.big.thing. I stuck with my familiar tunes. Until I was at work one day and somebody was rocking out to Linkin Park. A spark. A connection.
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| From 'Faint' |
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| From 'Papercut' |
I could be here all night posting lyrics. And while the lyrics and the music are solid (IMHO) it's the delivery that takes it to a whole different emotional connection.
Today, the man who poured raw emotion into songs that hit me at just the right time of my life, took his own life.
I didn't know this person outside of his public persona. I had over the years read some of his story, about a traumatic childhood. About his struggles during adolescence. I always hope someone with a rough start finds a way to reach a peace and happiness in life. It's always heartbreaking when that's not the case.
