I just met the ghost of my dead friend on a tape.

Well, not quite, but close enough.

I found some tapes from various rehearsals in 1991, including songwriting and pre-production for an album that got two-thirds recorded and then failed to happen.

It was weird hearing us back then, both talking and playing, cos we were all very different people than we are now. I hardly recognised myself, even. Happily, we seemed to be much better players than I remembered.

It kind of struck me hard when I heard him talking and playing cos we'd met and become friends at school in 1982. But now here's this guy who's been dead since 1994, pounding the drums like a heavy Ginger Baker or a sober John Bonham or a Neil Peart who'd somehow learned restraint. And, even though these tapes are all kinds of crappy and old and printed through, suddenly he's alive again. For a few minutes at a time, anyway.

It figuratively stopped me cold in my tracks and made me wonder what he'd be doing today if cancer hadn't stolen the rest of his life.

Don't throw out those recorded snippets of friends and loved ones, save them. Our memories slowly (if we’re fortunate) fade with time.

And sometimes, without warning, that slow fade turns into a sudden blackout.


J.Deakins said...

I can comment....

Dead Silence said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Dead Silence said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Post a Comment