“There’s a level of travel that you can achieve wherein you almost cease to exist as you have been known to yourself. I don’t mean it as in a feeling of meaningless, or emptiness, but a sort of new kind of existence takes place. You become just particles in motion, closer in frequency to a ghost or something. You might think what I’m writing is crazy, and if you do, I suggest you grab a backpack and hit the road for a while. And when your body says it’s time to go home, don’t. Just keep going. I promise you there’s a high on the other side more memorable and beautiful than you can imagine.”—John Mayer (via one forty plus)
I just got off stage in Zagreb. I was met with the news that you’ve passed on. I’m kind of in shock, but I wanted you to know that you were one of the main reasons I made it onto that stage to begin with. When I first saw you in Elf, opening for Deep Purple in 1975, I was completely blown away by the power in your voice, your presence on stage, your confidence, and the ease with which you seemed to connect to 6000 Danish people and one starry-eyed 11 year old, most of whom were not familiar with Elf’s music. The following year, I was so psyched when I heard the results of you joining forces with my favorite guitar player. You guys sounded so right for each other and I instantly became Rainbow’s #1 fan in Denmark. In the fall of 1976, when you played your first show in Copenhagen, I was literally in the front row and the couple of times we made eye contact you made me feel like the most important person in the world. The news that you guys were staying in town on your day off somehow embedded itself in my brain and I made the pilgrimage to the Plaza Hotel to see if I could somehow grab a picture, an autograph, a moment, anything. A few hours later you came out and were so kind and caring… pictures, autographs and a couple minutes of casual banter. I was on top of the world, inspired and ready for anything. Rainbow came to Copenhagen a couple more times over the next few years and each time you guys blew my mind, and for a good three years were my absolute favorite band on this planet. Over the years I’ve been fortunate enough to run into you a half dozen times or so and each time you were as kind, caring and gracious as you were in 1976 outside the hotel. When we finally got a chance to play together in Austria in 2007, even though I may not have let on, I was literally transformed back to that little snot nosed kid who you met and inspired 31 years earlier and it was such a fucking honor and a dream come true to share a stage with you and the rest of the legends in Heaven and Hell. A couple of weeks ago when I heard that you were not going to be able to make it to the Sonisphere shows that we would be sharing this June, I wanted to call you and let you know that I was thinking of you and wish you well, but I kind of pussied out, thinking the last thing you needed in your recovery was feeling obligated to take a phone call from a Danish drummer/fan boy. I wish I’d made that call. We will miss you immensely on the dates, and we will be thinking of you with great admiration and affection during that run. It seemed so right to have you out on tour with the so-called “Big Four” since you obviously were one of the main reasons that the four bands even exist. Your ears will definitely be burning during those two weeks because all of us will be talking, reminiscing and sharing stories about how knowing you has made our lives that much better.
Ronnie, your voice impacted and empowered me, your music inspired and influenced me, and your kindness touched and moved me. Thank you.
Pitchfork interviews Broken Social Scene: What does the title Forgiveness Rock Record mean? Whom are you forgiving?
Charles Spearin: The cover of the record really summarizes it nicely; There are all these people gathered around this mysterious thing blasting out of the ground, which to me is forgiveness. It’s not a religious kind of forgiveness, it’s just that thing everybody needs. During some shows Kevin gets everybody to yell, “I’m sorry,” because everyone has something to be sorry for. It’s about that sense of release and not holding in all the tension. The world needs to exhale right now. (via)
HAHA OSSUM I can’t wait to see them live again! Until then, I just want to lie in bed all day plugged into this album. BLISS.
“Oh yeah, I think it’s a little too claustrophobic to try to remain in the historical patterns that were given to us. I mean, you gotta be kind and respectful, and you gotta work hard to be happy cause it’s fuckin’ easy to be sad. But there are a lot of things that aren’t working that we still get forced to do and I don’t really want to be a part of it anymore. And I have the choice not to be a part of it. That was the most freeing feeling that hit me in the past couple of years. I didn’t have anyone in my life, so I suddenly focused more on my friends and family. And then I realized you actually can do what you want. You can have it all and, at the same time, try to change. I’m a massive fan of music, but I fuckin’ see some of these bands and they’re mirrors; with other bands, you can see their blood. I’m sick of hanging out with people who have it all but are still stuck in the have-not prison. Let’s get that out to all the new bands coming up: If it’s a competition, it means you’re just not feeling yourself that much.”—Kevin Drew via Pitchfork: Interviews: Broken Social Scene (via junepapercups)