Posts tagged music

I think today is the perfect day to finally explain to you all the story behind why I wear those mirrored shades that everyone keeps asking me about. Today I am a bit frazzled around the edges and my energy is depleted and I am reverting to the reclusive introvert that I truly am. On that note let me tell you the story.

As some of you know all too well, I am a bit of an odd duck and I tend to see the world slightly differently than a lot of people – through a pair of mirrored aviator sunglasses. Maybe I see the world differently because I have a creative streak in me that I channel through my songwriter’s pen, maybe it’s because growing up I had to find the interesting part of even the most mundane things since we didn’t have any money (I remember sitting in class as a kid and pretending my pencil was a rocket ship. I would fly it around while the rest of the class would be paying close attention to bible study before finally getting caught by the teacher who would whack my desk with the ruler). but for one reason or the other I’ve matured into the person I am now through great challenges, self-learning, and a constant struggle between my traditional background nagging at me to settle down and the little beams of creative light that break through my exterior and leave me with something amazing in my grasp that I can’t believe I did or created or experienced. For example, making music.

So with that in mind, here is what started the sunglasses thing.

The last time I felt restless and frazzled and drained, like I do today, I realized that the remedy was to express myself. Fast forward to that same evening (I was living in Victoria, BC at the time) and you would have found me scouring the local musician forums for a band to play in – the site was called Live Victoria. I set up some jams with various bands and off I went.

The first band was a band called the Black Orchid Rebellion – but that band had 2 problems 1) they were a bona fide Nirvana ripoff and 2) they were secretly a Christian rock band – a suspicion that was confirmed when the bassist strapped on his guitar and there was a custom embroidered crucifix on the strap. The second one, I can’t recall their name, but all their songs sounded like rusty chainsaws and they just wanted me to scream like Jeff Loomis of Cannibal Corpse with no singing and I’m pretty sure the guitarist was the kind of guy that would stab you in a fit of disenfranchised anger.

Finally I met a rag tag foursome of small towners who had a band for about 2 years and had some OK ideas for riffs, but had no singer, no melodies and no lyrics. They played one show and let the guitarist sing, but there were 2 problems here too: 1) he can’t sing 2) he got shitfaced drunk before the show.

So I joined the band and decided I could work with them to make truly original music because the slate was so clean. It went well. Very well. I started to feel better because through writing music I was able to explore my inner self and say whatever was on my mind no matter how dark or silly or whatever. Then we started playing live shows and I fell in love with the feeling of being on stage again in a band that performed my songs.

The Band and I in our heyday

That’s when I would truly let go. I was primal, unbridled, deadly, mysterious, energetic, introspective, extroverted, and yet still vulnerable and completely honest. Before we knew it we were playing on average a show every 2 weeks in town and always had packed houses. After that we started to tour and get media attention from the zines, the radio shows and eventually the big festivals on the west coast. However all the while I would keep writing and performing with such sincerity that the stage was the only place I truly felt like I was me. Off stage I was soft spoken, somewhat awkward, even a bit shy. But when I would do my ritual before the show I would transform by the time I set foot on the stage and grabbed the mic. I didn’t need to do any drugs, I drank no alcohol before a show (instead drinking pitchers of water) and I would dunk my long hair in a sink full of water right before charging the stage, dripping everywhere,  to stay cool as long as possible, because each performance got 100% of what I had to give.

When I was up there with all the world looking at me I would unfold. If a song was about something I was happy about I was elated. If the song was about something sad I would weep, and the audience would weep with me. My audience was my totem and they knew that something real was happening on stage. I wasn’t there for groupie sex or drug addled nights of mischief. I was famously known to turn away groupies on principle and with no exceptions as I figured that would lead me down a path to decadence and an end to my creativity.

I was there to be as human as possible yet alien in my ability to say what everyone was thinking but didn’t have the freedom to express. I could be as gentle as a shepherd or as aggressive as a mass murderer on that little stage and I felt truly at home.

The ironic thing was that most people thought that my on-stage persona was all an act – although a very believable one – while my off-stage quiet guy thing was the real me. They had it all backwards and I loved it. It was why I was able to get away with so much on stage without getting lynched. For example we had a song about the overprivileged spoiled coddle-case brats that go through life with no challenge and this one night there was a kid in the audience who fit that bill exactly. He was wearing a brand new leather jacket and was flailing around the mosh pit like a Tasmanian Devil. So I grabbed him by the lapels and screamed the song into his face as his feet dangled off the floor, and I violently shook him, flipped him the bird and hurled him back into the all-too-willing moshpit. I know, terrible of me, but that’s rock n’ roll for you. Besides, he loved every second of it. Weirdo.

The #NusShades

I was so comfortable on stage that off stage became uncomfortable for me. After sharing my vulnerability with a room of strangers I felt naked and needed to escape, but I still had to help the band pack up and then hang out with the other bands and sit through their sets to support them as they supported us. Enter the glasses.

It wasn’t until a spontaneous trip during the off-season to California to help my friend from back in Toronto get over his wedding being called off that the glasses appeared. We went to Santa Monica Beach and I was unprepared with my attire. It was 100 degrees out and I was in jeans and a black shirt. So spontaneously I ducked into a beachwear shop and less than 10 minutes later I walked out wearing a new pair of boardshorts, flip flops, and these mirrored sunglasses that just spoke to me when I saw them on the rack. I saw myself in the mirrored lenses and I just had to have them. At the time of the trip I was going through a bad time myself as someone dear to me died tragically and another left and I was feeling dried up. Deep inside I was sad and unwilling to share my pain with the outside world through anything other than music.

Then there was these glasses that were absolutely brilliant! Not only did they look pretty good on me but this is what they offered, which was an allegory of my life, my music and my secret struggle:

I can see you through my eyes.
You can see you in mine.
But you can’t see me.

After that trip to California, the glasses became my permanent trademark and something of a crutch even. I would wear these shades everywhere and all the time. The only time I would not wear them was when I was on stage. But before the show and as soon as I got off the stage, on went the shades (which were not at dark as some may have thought – I could see just fine) because I was not able to handle the numerous compliments and offers of casual sex that would come my way the moment my sweat drenched body left the stage. So I could say “thanks for the great compliment” or “maybe next time, honey” and no one would have to scan my eyes to try to “figure me out.” I didn’t need to be figured out, I was happy with who I was. All people needed to do was watch the show and they could have had all the insight they craved. Once the show was over, the window shut.

Why I still wear the shades

Fast forward to today and why I still wear them. As you may have guessed, I’m not really the sad guy I once was. As I grow up I’m able to put things into perspective and see the lighter side of things while still dealing well with both the ups and downs of life. I figure there is a time to mourn, but that time should not be everlasting. There is a time to be happy too, but even happiness needs to be tempered with a rainy day or two just so you can feel that great feeling that you get when you break the funk (see The Holy Trinity of Happiness). No one should be happy or sad or mad all the time. It’s all about the balance.

The first flight of the NusShades

So why do I still wear them? Well like I said before, I am really an introvert but I can usually come out of my shell because I really do love life and life is not meant to be lonely – no man is an island. However I don’t have limitless reserves of energy and from time to time I will put the glasses on when I need to mentally check out for a little bit. It could be for a few minutes or even the duration of the day.  I also put them on when an extremely awkward situation presents itself, or, in the rare case, I am around someone who just irks me. The last one is very rare, so if you see me put on my glasses when I am near you don’t assume that’s why because chances are it’s not the case. It may just mean that I need to “check out” for a little bit. And sometimes I just want to look cool =) You may never know which one of the aforementioned it is that puts me into shades mode, but know that none are meant to offend.

Then why do I wear them when I sing at #LoserKaraoke, you may ask? Well I tend to wear the shades at Karaoke sometimes because I’m not really singing my own songs so it’s just a performance, even though I really do enjoy it and, believe it or not, I still do get a little stage fright even to this day. I usually deal with it by being very animated, as some of you may have seen in the past.

I know this sounds crazy, loopy even, but everyone has their own little madnesses and I don’t think mine is the worst I’ve ever heard of. Just don’t be the douchetard that tries to grab them off my face.

Happier Nus, if not a bit awkward.