*In a break with planned programming I’m going to write an open letter, addressing current events directly, Mr Wildheart, I know you can’t hear me but I’m talking to you*
This little page of a grey haired bloke talking about music is a sort of therapy. It exists in my down time while I’m alone dealing with stuff by avoiding other stuff. That’s what I do, when I’m hassled by the world, by my worries, by my problems, by the failing health of the ones I love. When that’s going down, I listen to and form opinions on and around rock music and then I share them with the internet because it is my best friend (Mood Swings And Roundabouts)
I used to go to the park with my mates as a teenager and talk about rock music around a boombox. As young adults we graduated to going to the local rock bar and talking about music and watching bands. As a bartender, then a graphic designer and now in my current work life, Rock Music has been the glue that joined Steve For The Deaf with Steve For The Pay Check. There’s always a song to get you through the shift. (Greetings From Shitsville)
One of the artists most prevalent in all of those scenes, from ‘Mondo Akimbo Ago-go’ to ‘Ghost In The Tanglewood’ and taking in Fanclub shows, Playing guitar with Courtney Love, The Quireboys, The Throbs, Hey Hello! and live acoustic covers of Kiss Alive! has been Mr Ginger Wildheart. He’s a real rock and Roll Magus. He’s Lemmy, Slash, Iggy and Rollins in one. (Riff After Riff After Motherfucking Riff)
Now, Steve For The Deaf is kind of written about 6 months in advance. I bash out more reviews over the weekends I’m alone or sitting in hospital waiting rooms or unable to sleep with worry. So the stockpile of songs grows from time to time (Right now I’ve got February already written up). However, I’m fucking off what was planned for this week. Out of sheer coincidence yesterday’s post, The Wildhearts – 29 x The Pain was posted the same day a news story broke about rock legend Ginger Wildheart attempting to take his own life (Bad Time To Be Having A Bad Time)
I’m not delusional or egotistical enough to think announcing this week as Ginger Wildheart Week will make a spec of a fuck of difference in the world. Not for the half dozen people who will read this, for Ginger nor for me (well maybe for me). Ginger Wildheart has been a musical companion for me in some very dark times. Musically speaking he’s been a spirit guide, a shoulder to cry on, an echo chamber and an inspiration on an almost weekly basis for me since 1990. (Nothing Ever Changes But The Shoes)
But there’s one message I want to get out there into the ether. Because I can’t say it out loud at home, or at work and because right now, going to a rock club and talking about it feels like it’s impossible. I’m not just talking directly to Ginger, I’m talking to anyone struggling with the black dog, anyone who feels the sword hanging over their head and their grip loosening while the noose tightens. (Hate The World Day)
DON’T!
Stay with us. Walk with us. Strength in numbers. Power in Music. Life improves, death doesn’t. (Walk Like A Motherfucker)
Steve For The Deaf 