This week has been spent working huge amounts of overtime at my work, so I am damn tired. This post has been a slow culmination of thoughts before I actually posted it–why its time-stamp is so out of sync here on my weblog. The point of this post is the discovery of some lost tapes that were from my younger days when I was a budding musician playing in a four member band in Southern Ontario way back in the late ’80s. These were items that I thought were lost forever back when my storage unit that I was renting was pillaged and plundered by ruthless thieves fifteen years ago in Langley City. Although most items were long gone, I thought that the studio tapes were gone along with them. But tucked away with some old music gear that I kept with me at the time, the tapes were hidden away in a safe compartment. (This song, “Those Were the Days,” 1968, by Mary Hopkin, reflects the way I felt when I saw the tapes yesterday)
Sadly, I no longer have access to a eight-track analogue real to real player, so it will be some time before I can hear those sounds of yesterday. But some of the comments written on the reels were quite inspiring when reading them after all these years. I had forgotten about one song that we wrote called, “To Far Gone for November (1988).” It had become apparent that the worse time of the year was November, and so the song goes, if anything bad happens, it usually starts, or ends, in November. I still laugh at that today.
Perhaps the more hunting qualities of finding these old tapes are how many fond memories I have way back then. I can say without a doubt that my Twenties, were the best days of my life–by any stretch. My youth sucked, along with high school and even my first job, but when I met these guys, Rob, Sean and Steve, and we plaid music together, well, life got a whole lot richer back then. Life has never been the same since! LOL The break up of the band was not as harsh as it seem it might be, only becuase we were ready. We grew up, and knew that it was time to go our separate ways, but when you spend that much time together in the jam-room, you become family. Maybe that was why those days were the best?
Sure, I sometimes think how nice it would be to go back to the world music, start another band, but then I love what I am doing now, why throw that away for some old memories of the good times. There is still time for more adventure, and many more good times to come, “never stop rocking,” I say!
So, until I find a reel to reel player for these tapes, I only have my memories to ponder the sounds of those days with. Here are to the boys, and Five Shot Sixer.