my eulogy

The intent of this blog has always been musically driven, and although I'm well past of the age of going out every night to listen to and dance to music, I had hoped that my daily experiences with music, however mundane, would have translated better to this blog.

Unfortunately, I have not posted with the frequency or the eloquence that I had originally hoped, instead often just posting my playlists as a lame documentation of my musical endeavors.

Call it laziness or self doubt.

There is an event in my life I do feel worthy of documenting, however.

A week ago my best friend died...not just died, but hung himself. I've been struggling with a flurry of emotions the last week...from sadness and sorrow to anger and disbelief. Suicide takes so much from the people who are connected to that person, it's incalculable.

He and I shared many musical memories together. From trips to Miami to enjoy the Winter Music Conference, to concerts such as Roger Waters, to many many hours behind a microphone at WMNF. When I went to share my grief with his friends and family at his house the day before the viewing, I became keenly aware how unique and personal most of my memories were, as many of theirs were collective ones from years ago. Even the almost daily text messages that became games of trying to complete song lyrics were deeply personal and forever lost. I know my data usage on my cell phone is going to drop dramatically.

I was asked by his family to create a CD to be played during the viewing and before the service.

Several of the songs were family requests that had special significance. The others I chose either because I knew Trey loved the song or I felt it somehow described him or our friendship. In fact, the first song I chose (MGMT's "Time to Pretend") kept playing in my head before I made the CD. It's a song about wanting to be rock stars, but many of the lyrics also now seem to reflect the loss of life.
----

I'm feeling rough, I'm feeling raw, I'm in the prime of my life.

Let's make some music, make some money, find some models for wives.
I'll move to Paris, shoot some heroin, and fuck with the stars.
You man the island and the cocaine and the elegant cars.

This is our decision, to live fast and die young.
We've got the vision, now let's have some fun.
Yeah, it's overwhelming, but what else can we do.
Get jobs in offices, and wake up for the morning commute.

Forget about our mothers and our friends
We're fated to pretend
To pretend
We're fated to pretend
To pretend

I'll miss the playgrounds and the animals and digging up worms
I'll miss the comfort of my mother and the weight of the world
I'll miss my sister, miss my father, miss my dog and my home
Yeah, I'll miss the boredom and the freedom and the time spent alone.

There's really nothing, nothing we can do
Love must be forgotten, life can always start up anew.
The models will have children, we'll get a divorce
We'll find some more models, everything must run it's course.

We'll choke on our vomit and that will be the end
We were fated to pretend
To pretend
We're fated to pretend
To pretend

----

Instead of the original version, I chose a recent version by Jonsi Birgisson, the vocalist from the amazing Icelandic band Sigur Ros. You can hear it here.

It's obvious that he doesn't have a strong command of the English language, but I think it makes the song even more poignant as he glosses over some words and emphasizes others. It serves as my eulogy to my best friend.

I'll miss you, Trey.