To Live And Write In L.A.: And In The End...

By Hassel Velasco

Currently working on: “Sessions”
Currently Listening To: “Tell All Your Friends,” Taking Back Sunday
Currently Reading: Killing Yourself To Live, Chuck Klosterman

And In The End...

I've avoided writing about this next topic for a while, as it's one I don't necessarily think people like reading about. To this point, I had substantial evidence that the topic didn't exist, or it just wasn't for me. In the first season of “Mad Men,” Don Draper describes love as something ad-men created in the 1960s to sell pantyhose, and for the longest time, I believed it. Los Angeles didn't do much to flip the theory on its head.

It wasn’t until recently that I met someone who proved Don Draper wrong. She changed the way I thought about the dreaded subject. I started falling for her, and I knew I was in trouble. The hardest part about falling in love is putting your entire being in this vulnerable chariot, handing over the reigns of your heart to someone, and trusting them not to crash said chariot into the walls of the Coliseum.

You see, I find becoming lovestruck and being in a relationship is a lot like fighting in the ancient Roman arena. Life, for the sake of this piece portrayed by the Roman hierarchy, puts you in the Coliseum against your will because you have no say as to whom you fall for or how you do it. You're forcibly placed in this battle, often naked and unarmed, with other suitors as you fight to escape with your life. Love strips you bare; it’s the beast tearing you apart as the crowd cheers every attack. If you're lucky, you succumb to this terror, you let the beast have at your very being, and you indulge in the pain of every bite.

You could also beg for mercy, and let life put you out of your misery before love sinks its razor sharp claws deep into you. I had been avoiding this scenario for as long as I could, but I found myself entering the arena again, yes, naked and unarmed, locking eyes with the beast and hoping it wanted to devour me as much as I wanted it to. However, I learned that there's no use in living a life without love, there's no point in living if you're not willing to be vulnerable and be eaten alive. You don't really live until you're ready to die.

So, with this city as a canvas, we painted a beautiful piece over some time. I began to think things could change and began thinking about this city differently. Things looked brighter and Los Angeles somehow seemed smaller. Chuck Klosterman once wrote:

"We all have the potential to fall in love a thousand times in our lifetime. It's easy. The first girl I ever loved was someone I knew in sixth grade. Her name was Missy; we talked about horses. The last girl I love will be someone I haven't even met yet, probably. They all count. But there are certain people you love who do something else; they define how you classify what love is supposed to feel like. These are the most important people in your life, and you’ll meet maybe four or five of these people over the span of 80 years. But there’s still one more tier to all this; there is always one person you love who becomes that definition. It usually happens retrospectively, but it happens eventually. This is the person who unknowingly sets the template for what you will always love about other people, even if some of these loveable qualities are self-destructive and unreasonable. The person who defines your understanding of love is not inherently different than anyone else, and they’re often just the person you happen to meet the first time you really, really, want to love someone. But that person still wins. They win, and you lose. Because for the rest of your life, they will control how you feel about everyone else."

And fortunately, or unfortunately, for me, I found her. I found that person to redefine and challenge everything I've ever thought about on the subject. To put it a different way, I found this one bowl of chicken pot pie, which happens to be the best chicken pot pie I've ever had. And regardless how many different chicken pot pies I have, every single one will compare to this one, and every single one will fall terribly short.

So why write this now? I don't have an answer for that other than my need to put into writing this experience. We reached the end of an amazing road, but before we parted ways I had one last great Ted Mosby like idea. If you knew you were getting your leg chopped off tomorrow, would you spend your last day being sad or would you take your leg out for one last spin, do things that you otherwise wouldn't do?

The answer was pretty simple for the both of us. We went to a movie, we went bowling, we took one last trip to Disneyland, and then later in the night struggled to say goodbye to each other. I held her in my arms knowing this was likely the last time I'd do it. I held her hands and let her know how important she is to, not just me, but also the world. Saying goodbye is not my forte, and who knows how long this emptiness will last.

As for this city... As for Los Angeles…

This seems to be the cherry on top of the ice cream that was my life here. With a lease coming to an end and my inability to find a new place, it's maybe a good time to bid the City of Angels a fond farewell and head home. Maybe it's time to start a new chapter in my life.

And to the person who changed everything, if you happen to be reading this, nothing will change how I feel about you. You are by far one of the most amazing human beings I've ever met and you have an incredible life ahead of you. I hope you can find what you're looking for and I hope you're happy. I hope things turn out for the better and I hope I someday read about the wonderful things you're doing and the people's lives you'll impact. You deserve the world and I hope you get it.

"And in the end, the love you take is equal to the love you make."

Maybe The Beatles were wrong about that one…

As for me, I don't know if this is my last post from Los Angeles. “To Live And Write in Florida” doesn't have the same ring to it. Is “Flo-Writah” taken?

Essays Archive

To Live And Write In L.A.: Chasing the Sunset

Photo credit: David Marland

By Hassel Velasco

Currently Working On: Untitled Beatles Project
Currently Listening To: “E. Von Dahl Killed The Locals,” The Matches
Currently Reading: Diary Of An Oxygen Thief, Anonymous

Chasing the Sunset

After a week away, I'm back writing another piece for this essay series. I had written seven different entries last week but was unhappy with the results. So I did what any responsible writer does. I erased all of them, drank a couple more pints of Guinness, procrastinated, and went back to sleep.

This past Saturday, I attended a concert by a band I had shrugged off 10 years prior. Back then I was a 20-year-old kid who hadn't missed a Vans Warped Tour since 2004. I remember hearing about a band called The Matches, a pop-punk band from the Bay Area. I remember listening to their first album and not thinking much of it. In retrospect, I feel I crossed off a lot of bands back then just based on what would make me look cooler. So anything my friends weren't into, I wasn't into by association.

Saturday started of like your normal Saturday in L.A. A 7 a.m. call time for a Web series I got cast in. One of my favorite things about working on a set is watching people walk around and, ultimately, watch their entire life stop in order to get a better look at what's going on. People will slow their cars down to a crawl just to get a glimpse of what's being filmed. It's surprising to me that people are not used to it in the film capital of the world. Considering the episode being filmed was mainly centered on a big fight, the cast kicked ass and we finished a couple of hours early.

Later that night, I stopped by a bar called The Monty, and was immediately drawn in by the giant buffalo head in the wall. I proceeded to have a couple of pints before heading into the concert hall. (Note to music lovers: check out a band called Sharp Shock, a great three-piece punk band reminiscent of late ‘70's punk rock.)

The Matches' performance that evening left a resounding, "Why the fuck did you not listen to them before?" thought in my head. I found myself questioning the choices I made 10 years ago. What other things did I pass on that might be worth a second glance? Are anchovies really a good thing on pizza? (Update: they are still disgusting.) How about books? Maybe Atlas Shrugged isn't that bad. (Update: it's fucking terrible. Read the first five pages, gave up, and almost made my best Bradley Cooper “Silver Linings” impression by throwing the book through my fucking window.) How about the beach? I hated the beach a decade ago. (Update: with the right company, it isn't so bad.)

On Monday, I decided I wanted to watch the sun set into the Pacific. Although I've been in California for three years, I've never witnessed the sun tuck itself into the ocean. Accompanied by a good contender for best human, I decided to go to El Matador State Beach and wait for the sunset. It's taken me 30 years to realize how much I love reading a book on the beach, something I would have definitely would have shunned years ago.

We very quickly realized we had an issue. El Matador State Beach faces slightly southwest. The sun was setting a bit north of where we were, so with a half hour to go, we decided to get in the car and find a spot where the sun would potentially bathe in the frigid Pacific waters. We began driving north on the Pacific Coast Highway. As we drove around the mountains that hugged the shoreline, we realized we were getting closer. I was getting excited, things that seemed stupid, dumb, not worth my time as a younger men, were all things I enjoyed doing now. I even had an idea for a book: Chasing the Sunset. (Editor’s note: Copyright protection does not extend to titles, so you’re good!)

Around the next mountain, we found the sun and its final, daily descent. One more thing to knock off the to-do list!  Five minutes to sunset, here we go, just one more turn.

Wait, is that a naval base?

Is the sun setting on top of it?

Who puts a naval base way out here?!

Where did the ocean go???!!!

Son of a bi…

Essays Archive

To Live And Write In L.A.: A Day In The Life

By Hassel Velasco

Currently Working On: Untitled Beatles Project
Currently Listening to: The Beatles, “Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band”
Currently Reading: The Complete Beatles Recording Sessions: The Official Story of the Abbey Road Years 1962-1970, Mark Lewisohn

A Day In The Life

Recently, I was asked what my favorite Beatles song was. I didn't have an answer. I couldn't even narrow it down. Moments later, I was asked what my favorite Beatles album was and I had an even bigger issue picking just one. I did what any sane person would do. I created a Beatles playlist that ended up being about 118 tracks long. I had to find out which song out of the 200-plus songs The Beatles ever recorded was my favorite. I had to pick an album. It was no longer acceptable to answer these questions with an "I don't know" or ¯\_(ツ)_/¯.

So I took the long weekend to drive to some of my favorite Los Angeles spots and try to figure out this conundrum like any of the other Silver Lake/Los Feliz-inhabiting hipster hopefuls.

I started on Sunday because Saturday was taken up by work (bleh). I began with what I consider my least favorite Beatles album, “Yellow Submarine,” on my way to Iliad bookshop in North Hollywood. It's ironic that it’s my least favorite considering I have a yellow submarine tattooed on my right forearm, but hidden in this album is one of my favorite songs. See the list below.

Next, I took the short drive over to Republic Of Pie, a pie/coffee shop in North Hollywood. Here I sat and listened to some of the earlier Beatles albums (“Please Please Me,” “With The Beatles,” “A Hard Day's Night,” “Beatles for Sale,” “Rubber Soul,” “Help”) while enjoying the most bomb-ass slice of banana cream pie. The covers recorded by The Beatles in their earlier records, like the banana cream pie, are also bomb-ass. The songs are great time capsules for the music that influenced the quartet. Full disclosure, I listened to as much of these albums as I could because I couldn't stay at a pie place for long without consuming massive amounts of pie, which would lead to potential heart failure. Moving on.

The drive to The Last Bookstore in Downtown Los Angeles, like any drive in the city, featured long and time-consuming traffic measuring more than 10 miles. It’s worth it because the bookstore is one of my favorite places in Los Angeles. I can easily spend an entire day lost in its maze of books. Although parking is limited to whatever you can find in the area, it’s by far the best book destination in the city. (Pro tip: use the restroom before you get here. There is no restroom in the store, and public restrooms in Downtown Los Angeles are pretty much non-existent.)

I listened to the entirety of “The White Album” while book browsing. It's unfair to compare the earlier Beatles records with the band's later work. As revolutionary as The Beatles early records were, the foursome become a completely different monster once they halted all touring. “The White Album” is a testament to The Beatles extensible, but different, musical talents, and thus the beginning of the end.

I finished Sunday night with a drink at a bar called The Griffin in Los Feliz. A mythical venue, The Griffin was one of the first bars I visited when I moved out here. You can frequently see it as the exterior shot of the bar the characters of “New Girl” frequent. It's on the way to this bar that I came to the realization that “Let It Be” may possibly be my least favorite album. I drove home that night listening to “Revolver,” which is, in my opinion, the turning point in the band’s recording process.

On Monday, I decided to frequent my usual spots. After some errands in the Northridge area of the Valley, I drove to The Americana, a shopping center with my favorite Barnes and Noble. I began listening to “Abbey Road” on my way there and continued once I was nestled into a corner of the third-floor patio. I think “Abbey Road” is to The Beatles what Quentin Tarantino believes “Inglorious Basterds” to be...a masterpiece. How George Martin managed to keep John and Paul from killing each other is beyond me, but the result is an album that I can listen to from beginning to end without skipping a single song.

Finally, I ended my Monday night by having my traditional dinner of two Guinness pints at a bar in Van Nuys called Ireland 32's. It’s an Irish dive bar with live music almost every night. After finishing “Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band” it was time to narrow things down. Working on this Beatles project has me focused on the pre-“Revolver” Beatles, so I haven't ventured out passed that album in quite some time. After listening to and evaluating the music as well as certain go-to spots around Los Angeles, I find myself associating these albums to these particular spots. I also painfully managed to narrow down that playlist to 20 songs.

Where You Once Belonged

Iliad Bookshop = “Yellow Submarine”

• Underrated, filled with a couple of good surprises.

Republic Of Pie = Pre-“Revolver” Albums

• Very good, can't have enough, but too much can potentially lead to a heart condition.

The Last Book Store = “The White Album”

• A maze of talent and individuality you can get lost in. Can't take a bathroom break in-between.

The Griffin = “Revolver”

• A turning point; a familiar, yet refreshing, take.

The Americana = “Abbey Road”

• Lots of flashing lights, so much going on, but you can't help but get lost in its melody and charm.

Ireland's 32 = “Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band”

• I get by with a little help from my friends. (Guinness, Jameson, etc)

Top 20 Favorite Beatles Songs

• “I Saw Her Standing There”
• “Tomorrow Never Knows”
• “Hey Bulldog”
• “Here Comes The Sun”
• “Don't Pass Me By”
• “The Ballad Of John And Yoko”
• “Happiness Is A Warm Gun”
• “I Want You (She's So Heavy)”
• “Something”
• “I've Just Seen A Face”
• “Because”
• “Within You, Without You”
• “Paperback Writer”
• “Rollover Beethoven”
• “Dizzy Miss Lizzy”
• “I Should Have Known Better”
• “Helter Skelter”
• “Dear Prudence”
• “Strawberry Fields Forever”
• “Blackbird”

Top 3 Albums

• “Abbey Road”
• “The White Album”
• “Revolver”

Essays Archive

Remembering James Horner

James Horner

By Sean Tuohy

Sadly, the filmmaking world lost one of its most talented composers the other day following James Horner’s plane crash. Horner’s music has been heard in movies for nearly 30 years in such films as “Aliens,” “Avatar,” “Braveheart,” and “Titanic.” He was a skilled composer who created moody tunes for the films he worked on, but he could strike fear deep within your soul with one pluck of a chord or brighten your day with a quick keystroke. Horner’s scores, like the movies they embellished, were emotional roller coasters that sometimes outlived the movies themselves.

Below are six of Horner’s best music numbers:

“Aliens”

The classic action-sc-fi film is amazing on all fronts, but what pulls viewers fully into the world is Horner’s spooky score, which relays on heavy strings during tense moments and moves to drums during the heavy action. Like the movie itself, the score is a great blend of many genres.

“The Rocketeer”

Though the film did not do well at the box office the score to this Disney comic book film was a true masterpiece. Horner’s score is light, hopeful, and, at times, very playful. The heavy use of strings fills the listeners with sense of adventure and good times ahead.

“Glory”

For the Civil War film detailing the first all-black fighting unit, Horner infused a military sound into his score. Despite the subject matter—war, loss, racism—Horner was able to keep the score filled with buoyancy, a sound of belief that beyond the horrors of war is a life filled with joy and happiness.

“Apollo 13”

Ron Howard’s classic thriller, based on true events, told the story of three astronauts trapped on a space ship on the way to moon. Horner played a balancing act with this score; keeping the music tense at moments, but at other times making sure the movie reflected the wonder of space travel.

“The Man Without A Face”

This Mel Gibson-directed coming of age film tells the tale of a young boy and his relationship with a disfigured former teacher. The score swings between soft and light, showing the world through the eyes of a child, and moves to harsh and heavy sounds, reflecting the world of adults.

“Titanic”

Daniel Ford: Sorry to intrude Sean, but no list of Horner’s work would be complete without the score from “Titanic.” As an impressionable teenager when the movie came out, I can’t remember any movie theme moving me in quite the same way. I still get chills when I hear it. It is majestic, harrowing, tragic, and hopeful—all the qualities Titanic and its survivors embody. If you weren’t crying before you got here, feel free to start sobbing in earnest.

Life Alchemist: How Zilla Rocca Cooked Up His Noir Hop Recipe

Zilla Rocca

Guest post by Zilla Rocca

Rick Rubin summed it up for me in an interview last year:

"When you’re a fan from the outside of something, you can embrace it in a different way than when you’re a fan from the inside. Run-D.M.C. could be sort of gangstery in their own way, pre-gangster rap, because they were suburban kids. Kurtis Blow, who was from Harlem and really around gangsters, he didn’t want to be a gangster. He wanted to look above it and wear leather boots and be more like a rock star. Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five were really inner-city, hard-life guys, and they wanted to be from outer space.”

I grew up during the South Philly mafia wars of the 1980s and 1990s, where people's houses were blown up from nail bombs in the mailbox. This kid I went to grade school with was called into the principal's office to find out his mafia father was gunned down. My best friend's wife is the daughter of a capo who just got out of jail after a 14-year stretch. I've been inside mafia bars. I've delivered pizza to mafia houses. I played sports with guys who are now high ranking officials. My mother's first house had issues with property value because a  former mob boss delayed a riverside development near our house—he tried extorting the developer for $1 million and the developer went to the FBI. It took another 10 years for that development to happen.

It was just an accepted part of growing up, but I didn't want to be in it. Most guys in South Philly were in heaven when “The Sopranos” was on the air because it resembled parts of our lives. Same with “Goodfellas,” “A Bronx Tale,” etc. But I'm not Italian, so that wasn't a badge of honor. It's fun to visit those guys on a television screen, but you don't want to live next door to them or work for them. They had no integrity or character. They were also incredibly stupid—none of them finished high school. Like Posdnous said, they were animals surviving with animal behavior. I was never like that.

When I first started writing raps, it was on some super-lyrical shit in 1997 because that was the style—Wu-Tang, Killarmy, Canibus, Big Pun, Black Thought. Even back then, there was a group of all white South Philly rappers named Nostra who wanted to be mafia guys. I thought they were clowns (I just found their stuff on Philaflava). By my early 20s, I was into crazy abstract shit like Camp Lo, Aesop Rock, El-P, and doseone. My mid-20s, I had more stories to tell about women. I was really into Slum Village, Q-Tip, and Ghostface. My late 20s, I start pinpointing what I really liked and left everything behind: nightlife, good booze, the way certain words sound, and stories about crime.

Zilla Rocca

The way I write is a combination of things: most of them start out with notes and phrases I keep on the notepad in my phone. I get those phrases from anywhere—comic books, something I hear an old lady say at the market, a lyric from a different genre, a hardboiled crime book I'm reading. So I weave those in with some personal experiences, but I stray away from being 100 percent open about my life on purpose ("Success is Invisible" off “Neo Noir” is probably the most honest and concise I've been in a while). It's more about quick snapshots of my life mixed in with phrases and notes blended with shit that sounds good.

I edit a lot. I barely do drugs. I work a day job. I'm engaged. I go to the gym. I practice Buddhism. My life is pretty balanced. But there's times when it's not balanced, and there were many years when it was completely out of whack. Once I started focusing on things I always enjoyed though, it started manifesting itself. Last night, I was at two speakeasies then had a steak dinner at an English pub. My fiancée bought me Bulleit rye for Christmas. A dude in New York City at my last show brought four books for me to borrow, and all of them are about detectives, noir, and tough guy writers from the 1930s. This stuff wasn't happening to me in 2008 because I was obstructing and compartmentalizing my creativity: "I make beats for this guy over here that sound like this, then I do weird one-offs for me that get leaked by themselves, then my main album has to have this producer only on it" and so on.

I really connected with John Lennon, because he would write stuff like "I Am the Walrus" and "Come Together," which are lyrically thrilling. Then he would write beautiful and simple songs like "Julia," "Oh Yoko," and "Jealous Guy." Tom Waits is the same to me. What Waits always does, and what John figured out later, is not compartmentalize his stuff like "My love songs go over here, and my drawings go over there, and my short stories stay under the bed, and my love for kazoos stays hidden forever." He puts them all together because they're all him. I try to do that, so my personal stuff mixes with slang mixes with stories from other people mixes with a Daredevil comic mixes with an old phrase my grandmother used to say. The common thread is my enjoyment from all of them. After becoming fans and friends of Billy Woods, Curly Castro and I decided to start putting more sports references in our songs because that's a big part of our lives that we kept out on purpose.

I love Action Bronson because his entire career is based solely off of things that make him laugh, smile, or want to eat. He only follows his joy, whether it's a baseball player from the 1990s he used to worship, or a pair of sneakers he always wanted, or doing something foul to a prostitute. He blends it all together all of the time. He's never obstructed. He raps over "November Rain." He tells crime stories that go nowhere but sound intoxicating. He lusts for roasted elk. He's so open to the world, and what he attracts fulfills his interests because he only pursues his interests. He can't write a hook and he's famous with a major label record deal because he shares with you all of things that make him giddy.

I try to do the same thing because that's the most honest way to write.

Also check out:

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Song Writing 101: Coffee and Lyrics

By Anton Laplume

Song writing.

Song writing for me is the equivalent of writing in your diary or journal. It’s a way to document a certain frame of mind of when a song is written. Expressing your feelings towards any given situation. Whether it’s love lost, love gained, being broke or having an excess amount of money, the separation of those you grew up with designated by life’s process, or the new bonds you form in your progression through this crazy world, there’s plenty of inspiration to grab from.

Sometimes it comes in the form of just music without lyrics because sometimes just the music is enough to get the point across. Other times the music is simply two or three chords but the lyrics have a much deeper meaning. That’s the great thing about music and art in general, there are options, and so many different ways to explore them; and beyond the art, there’s a discipline gained from working within certain creative boundaries to express concepts that are seemingly untethered by logic.

However, everyone has their process.

For me, it usually starts off with a large cup of coffee and some kind of turbulence in my life. When something happens, either good or bad, that kind of rearranges my thought process and has me questioning the way I’ve been doing things, I’ll hide out in the organized chaos of my work space and just start to play. As the playing continues, a vocal concept will kind of just come to fruition and before I know it, there’s a concept for a verse or chorus.

Now we come to the lyrics (entering large cup of coffee), which can be a frustrating process. As I would imagine it for most writers, I am very particular about the words I use. From the amount of syllables a word may have, to the way it flows with the surrounding words. What kind of rhyming scheme do I want (If any at all)?. What part of the beat am I placing a word on? And how do I want to finish a phrase? Both rhythmically and harmonically speaking. That’s where those creative boundaries come into play.

The following is usually the final part of the skeleton and the bane of my existence… the bridge. The bridge of any song generally comes in a little more than half way through and offers a bit of relief or change from the songs main idea (verses and choruses). When I write a bridge, I’ll try to change the key center of the song, maybe change up the rhythmic pattern a bit, which can be difficult at times. The reason being, is that sometimes you’re just not hearing a change or a new section to add. Maybe you’re having a hard time coming up with a smooth transition (once again, those creative boundaries). And it’s okay to not have a bridge sometimes, but it is important as a musician to challenge yourself to come up with an idea, even if you’re not particularly hearing one.

That’s where the discipline comes into play. Because to just abandoned the bridge because of the lack of ideas is not only preventing the possibility of a great concept, but also denying yourself a process of learning which can only benefit you. Either way, a lot of the time this ends up being the downfall to a lot of my material. Halting the process of writing to the point where the song is just another unfinished idea in the musical wasteland of my brain.

But in the event that I do successfully finish the songs structure, I will then introduce it to whoever I am playing with, and we add on the final touches to make the song complete. For me, once a song is finished, nothing gives me a greater sense of accomplishment or feeling of relief. At least for a short period of time, then I have to start the whole process over again.

The beauty of whole thing is that every time it’s a little different, and every time, the end result is just as satisfying.

For more essays, check out our full archive. 

Driving Around in Vans With the Boys: A Story of Friendship, Music, and High School

By Sean Tuohy

As I write this piece, I am sitting in my bedroom looking out the window at snow-covered rooftops and blue skies, but my mind is 10 years in the past.

I’m sitting in the back of a Dodge van as it drives through the suburbs of sunny South Florida. I'm with two of my best friends singing along to Blink-182's “M+M’s.” I've had a lot of wonderful moments in my life that I have shared with great people, but I tend to hold the moments I shared with Jorge and Michael during our teenage years closet to my heart because it was times of pure joy. It was three friends with little to do; just talking and listening to music. Blink-182 provided the music that bonded us together and formed the foundation of our friendship.

The pop punk band seemed to be the perfect soundtrack to high school life. The songs talked about the confessions of being a teenager, the pranks and joys of being with friends, and the fear of talking to the opposite sex. The same issues we suffered through  daily were written down and put to music. It made high school somewhat easier for us.

Nearly 10 years later, the three of us are spread out along the Eastern seaboard and have started to create our own lives and careers. However, all three of us still hold a special spot for Blink-182 and the memories we formed with their songs. I was able to catch up with the boys and ask them about their memories and feelings about the band and our time together in high school.

Sean: When and where did you start listening to Blink 182? 

Michael: It was the year 2000. I was in sixth grade. I first remember hearing "All the Small Things" on the radio. Shortly thereafter my older brother purchased the "Enema of the State" CD, and I remember instantly falling in love with the album. I didn't know anything about music, but this CD told me I was about to learn. Everything changed for me after listening to the album. My personality changed, I learned new words and phrases, mostly of an explicit nature, and I learned a lot about the human anatomy.  

Jorge: I started listening to them in elementary and middle school but got more into them in high school. 

Sean: What connected you to Blink-182? Lyrics, sound, look?   

Michael: Definitely a combination of both lyrics and sound. The lyrics were hilarious even though most went over my head. The lyrics gave the music an edge and gave me something I could connect with, whether it be about feelings for a girl at school, hanging out with friends, parties, or experiences with aliens. In terms of sound, the band produced arguably the best pop punk music ever recorded. The songs never sounded a like, each offered something new, and hit its listener with a punch of energy and melody that is hard to match. It was the perfect music for the time.  

Jorge: The style. The honesty of their playing. What it meant to be a kid in high school, going through changes. Issues with parents, school, relationships with the opposite sex and friends. All kinds of honest perspectives on adolescence.  

Sean: We were in high school and listened to this band a lot. What Blink-182 song reminds you the most of high school? 

Michael: The whole self-titled album reminds me most of high school, probably because it was released around that time. The song "Feeling This" is probably the song off that album that most reminds me of high school.  

Jorge: Hmmm. “M+M’s.” 

Sean: Do you think we connected to Blink-182 so much because they wrote about teenage life; going to shows, girls, and Star Wars? 

Michael:  Blink was sort of my anthem between the ages of 12 through 18. I think its lyrics related to my life and the music expressed how I was feeling, and sometimes how I continue to feel, but most of all, it was something my friends and I could listen to together and enjoy. It was the background music when I played hockey inside my house with friends, rode in the car with a friend, was at a friend's house, or at a party. I think there's a social element to Blink's music. It doesn't really feel right when listening to it alone, or at least, the music doesn't have its full effect when your not with others. I think it brings people closer. 

Jorge: Absolutely.

Sean: What is Blink-182's most well-written song? 

Michael: "Asthenia." Just behind that is "Going Away to College," "Man Overboard," "Carousel," "Adam's Song"...I feel like I should stop, but I don't want to.  

Jorge: “Every Time I Look for You.” 

Sean: Is there some Blink-182 song lyrics that stick out in your mind and why?  

Michael: "Got a lot of heartache/he's a fucking weasel" from "Dysentery Gary" sticks with me. That intro really got my attention and I listened to that song perhaps more than any other off the "Enema of the State" album. "Well I guess this is growing up" from "Dammit" also comes to mind since it's one of the best songs from Blink and these lyrics capture its essence. They also repeat it a 100 times.  

Jorge: "I never did do anything that she asked/I never let what happened stay in the past/I never did quite understand what she meant/In spite of everything/In spite of everything." From my favorite song, "Every Time I Look for You." I just think that this is a combination of everything people do wrong in relationships and solid advice if you look at this as what not to do.  

Sean: "It's alright to tell me what you think about me" What is the first memory that comes to mind when you hear these lyrics? 

Michael: The music video is the first thing that comes to mind. It also brings me back to hanging out with my brother and friends, listening to "Dammit" with a CD player while riding the school bus, and trying to learn the intro to this song when I was a beginner at guitar.  

Jorge: Life and people being too afraid to tell people how they actually feel.The first memory is an image of an ex-girlfriend who, I feel, never told me everything she honestly felt.  

Sean: Will Blink 182 always remind your teenage years or does it mean something more to you? 

Michael: It means something more. I can recall a great experience with a lot of people who are important to me where we were listening to Blink. It's always a good time when their music is on.

Sean: Last question, if you were given the chance to go back in time and relive the afternoons driving around listening to Blink-182 would you do it?

Michael: Of course, and if we are all in town, I don't see what is stopping us from down it again. 

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