Monday, 28 March 2011

The Curse of the Former Musician

Gah, here we go again. I spent a while today eyeing up new guitars (mine are battered), amps and effects (mine are long gone) and daydreaming of getting back into a band. For those of you that are not aware, once upon a time I was part of a band called RED20, for which I played guitar on three CDs and live. Those days ended, and ever since then I have occasionally succumbed to the Curse Of The Former Musician. This curse manifests itself every few months in myself, but in other cases frequency may vary.

This most curious condition leads the sufferer to crave being onstage in some sweaty little dive, blinded by stage lights and his own sweat, playing to an unappreciative crowd alongside people you keep having arguments with.

These symptoms soon fade when the Former Musician remembers all the hard times between the classic moments. The blazing rows. The dropped notes. The broken strings. The heckles from drunk morons in the audience. The fortune spent on rehearsal rooms and junk food.

But remembrance of these less than stellar moments does not do away with the Curse forever, as it is certain to return a few months later, and the cycle begins again. How can this condition be treated? I am as yet unsure. As it is, it helps to look at the price tags on new gear, which is always good for bringing you down to earth again, but sadly this doesn't stop it bugging you.

The Former Musician wants to put right what went wrong, and make up for the missed opportunities and the fights and the gear fuckups, the bad gigs and the angry words that were once shared between close friends. I do not enjoy being a bearer of this particular malaise, but holy shit I miss being in a band. It's okay, I'll go and look at guitar prices and see sense again. Temporarily.

Mind you... maybe... just maybe...

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