Songs (And Ultimately Albums) That Changed My Life [Part 3]

5. Foo Fighters by Foo Fighters

I wasn’t sure what album to talk about next, but I was watching bits and pieces of the Grammy’s last week at Mercedes Grille while Jackie was working. She is a huge fan of the Foo Fighters, so when they took the stage to perform, Doser made a point to take a little break and watch.

Not that interesting of a story, but it brought me here.

It was another weekend growing up. Alex and I were at Coconuts music, again. We were inquiring about the new Stone Temple Pilots’ album, and for the life of me, I don’t remember which one it was. Since it wasn’t on the shelves yet, he purchased the Foo Fighters self-titled, debut album. I don’t think I even bought anything that day. It was just another weekend at the music store.

Again, not that interesting of a story, but that story leads to this one.

My best friend Alex died in a car accident on Sept. 19, 2001. He was driving back from our friend Dave’s house, lost control of his car, and hit a tree. This happened about a mile from our houses. It was a road he’d driven thousands of times before. It was a road we road our bikes on who knows how many times. Yet, it still happened.

When Alex died my head was cloudy for a long time. I didn’t sleep for about two weeks. The only time my head was straight, or rather distracted, was when I was rowing. Music didn’t help. I tried. It was weird listening to music knowing Alex wasn’t somewhere listening also. I figured it would maybe help to go buy an album which had a stronger connection to Alex, rather than trying to find some solace randomly in what I already owned.

I went to Best Buy, walked around for about an hour, but I kept coming back to the same album. The Foo’s self-titled. Once I got the album home though, everything changed. I tried to play the album, but two songs into it, I turned it off. I couldn’t listen to it. I didn’t really see it as a mistake (buying music is never a mistake), but it didn’t help like I thought it would.

What makes this album special is the fact that once I turned it off, I didn’t play the album for five more years. I never really got over Alex’s death. I know I had nothing to do with it, but I felt guilty because I never got to see him before he left. Alex and I were supposed to go see STP in concert, but instead I blew him off to go on a date with a girl who ended up being pretty lame. That was the last time I would talk to him.

I guess when I finally listened to the album, it gave me a little closure on the whole experience. I’m still not over his death; the fact is I may never be. I have a lot of great memories, and all I can do is live my life to the fullest since my friend can’t be here to do it with me. As Dave Grohl says: “I’ll stick around, and learn from all that came from this.” That’s something I know I can do.

6. Strait Up by Snot (and friends)

On December 11, 1998, the lead singer of Snot, Lynn Strait died in a car accident. This album was meant to be Snot’s sophomore album, but due to Lynn’s death, things obviously changed, and the recorded music became Lynn’s epitaph, instead of his legacy. Friends of the band were asked to write lyrics and contribute vocals to the musical tracks the remaining members had laid down.

I bought this album because I liked the song “Angel’s Son” which is sung by Lajon from Sevendust. The rest of the album was metal, and at the time, I hated heavy metal. I didn’t like how the rest of the album sounded, so I never finished listening to it. So, when Alex died, I never thought to put this album on my turntable.

Once Foo Fighters “failed me,” I was stuck again trying to make sense of what happened. Needing some kind of aural sustenance, I went back to my record shelf, only this time, I decided to give Strait Up a second chance. It was an “In Memory Of…” I pulled it out and played it. All of a sudden, all this loud, nasty music made sense to me. Their aggression towards losing one of their peers; they felt what I felt: angry, confused, let down, disappointed.

Strait Up was the only album I listened to for the next month. I couldn’t tell you how many times I spun it. Of course, I still listen to that album today. Every time one of the songs comes across my iPod, I seem to scream, to sing, to dance, to work, to do everything harder and with more passion. All I think in Alex’s memory. Also, it’s a constant reminder to enjoy everyday I have here, to always follow my heart, and always go big, or go home.