It's been a strange couple of days. There's a lot going on, but for whatever reason there don't seem to be the right kind of words to put with the way I'm feeling. I don't know.. it's hard to explain.
What I do know is that there was a point not too long ago when it was just me, a cat, and a guitar living by ourselves in a one-bedroom apartment a few miles off campus in Tallahassee, Florida -- and during that time span I spent more than my share of hours listening to, learning, and re-creating every guitar line that this man ever played.
The guy was a lot of things (not all of them pleasant), and his music certainly wasn't for everyone -- but he could play the hell out of a guitar.
...and he didn't have to die
I don't know -- I don't want to get off on a rant here, but I've worked a lot of shows. I've been on the crew for a lot of hardcore shows, a lot of metal shows, and everything inbetween. And while I've never been to the place where all this mess happened, but I can tell you one thing for sure:
When our crew worked the door, everyone got searched.
Our door guys would take keychains, pocketknives, and even spiked bracelets off of people before they could pass through. Stage security was something to be taken very seriously, and not everyone on the crew was allowed to do it. And I realize that my days of working shows were in a different time, and that things are probably more amped up now than they used to be, but there's still got to be some culpability here.
Somebody was in that club with a gun.
Which means that somebody else
wasn't doing their fucking job,
and innocent people got killed.
What I do know is that there was a point not too long ago when it was just me, a cat, and a guitar living by ourselves in a one-bedroom apartment a few miles off campus in Tallahassee, Florida -- and during that time span I spent more than my share of hours listening to, learning, and re-creating every guitar line that this man ever played.
The guy was a lot of things (not all of them pleasant), and his music certainly wasn't for everyone -- but he could play the hell out of a guitar.
...and he didn't have to die
I don't know -- I don't want to get off on a rant here, but I've worked a lot of shows. I've been on the crew for a lot of hardcore shows, a lot of metal shows, and everything inbetween. And while I've never been to the place where all this mess happened, but I can tell you one thing for sure:
When our crew worked the door, everyone got searched.
Our door guys would take keychains, pocketknives, and even spiked bracelets off of people before they could pass through. Stage security was something to be taken very seriously, and not everyone on the crew was allowed to do it. And I realize that my days of working shows were in a different time, and that things are probably more amped up now than they used to be, but there's still got to be some culpability here.
Somebody was in that club with a gun.
Which means that somebody else
wasn't doing their fucking job,
and innocent people got killed.
[Listening to: H.I.M., "Souls on Fire"]
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