The Hostages and Other Mid-Life Reflections

Musical History, You Don't Know The Jack | October 22nd, 2009

Wed, Oct. 21, 2009, was my last night performing with The Hostages. It was a great learning experience but my growth as a musician has reached its limit within the Hostages. When we reformed, we did it for the fun playing rock and roll and making fools of ourselves (I am still a fool!), but the fun is gone. My dissatisfaction does not concern any of the members on a personal level, it is within myself. I’m still figuring it all out, still coming to terms with my own personal demons.

I will never stop playing music; it is my own personal sanity device, and I am contemplating my next rock and roll dance tune. I am certain that I want to front a band again — I got that bug!

Oh, I could revive All Flesh, but upon reviewing the old material, I find that my heart and soul are no longer spoken to by that project (and a forty-year-old man in fishnet stockings ain’t a nice thing to behold). I’ve said everything I wanted to with Indoctri-Nation, so that’s out too. The Soul project is on hiatus until I get into the right mood to write lyrics — and until I become a better singer — which is the next step in my evolution. Finally, the anger that fueled those bands is no longer relevant; I’ve become weary of singing songs of angst. I’d rather be funny, sing about girls and other interesting things, maybe share an odd thought here and there.

I like so many different kinds of music from all over the spectrum. I love swingin’ beats, funky bass lines and AC-DC guitars. I’ve had a certain sound floating through my brain — a combination of all I love in music. Its not a new sound, but its a great sound coming together rather nicely: a new six song EP that I’m almost done with. And since its good old rock and roll, the lyrics are much easier to write.

I don’t know what may happen next: I would like to front a band and get back on the stage again… I could use a different climate; I’ve been contemplating relocating to Seattle (again!), California, Texas — somewhere else in the Deep South… I may meet my next wife next week…. But I cannot do any of those things until I give up what is stunting my own growth.

(I am not quitting Reverend Poky Bunge in the near future. I still love the drums. I know where my heart lies within a trap set: if ain’t leading a band, I am pounding drums for one.)

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