Ok, I’m finally ready to come out of the closet. Or, kinda. I may or may not have had a love affair with a man. Here’s the story:
In 2004, I moved to California. Orange County to be exact. I did so on a complete whim. I had just gotten my heart broken by the first girl I really fell in love with and didn’t know what else to do. For whatever reason, California just seemed like it would fit me. I was tired of the gloom and cobwebs collecting in my head, and I figured the sunshine, beaches and beautiful women of SoCal could fix me. Boy was I wrong….
That place was a fucking shit show to begin with. My haphazard planning to exit the Mile High city, combined with the Bauhaus style sadness that loomed in my brain caused me to overlook a few pertinent details.
To begin with, I didn’t have a place to live. Shit, I didn’t even know where I was going. It wasn’t until I got to L.A. that I decided to go to Newport Beach (naturally, the most fucking expensive city along the coast). I checked into my ‘just above shitty’ hotel room and settled in. The Pine Knot Hotel on the 101 would be my new home for the next seven months.
Then came the predicament of trying to find a job. I had no real applicable knowledge and hadn’t finished my college degree yet, so it looked like I was heading toward a good career at In N Out. To further compound the fact that my skill set resembled that of a mildly retarded hillbilly, I failed to realize that I was essentially homeless, making attaining gainful employment that much harder.
So I spent my days walking. A lot. I would cruise up and down the beach listening to “This is a Lie” and “Out of This World” by The Cure (how dramatic) on fucking repeat. I would also frequent Jane’s Corndogs for lunch, dinner and/or the combination of both, a decision that would inflict me with a nice set of supple man breasts. And to boot, it fucking rained nearly every single day I was there. Fuck. My good intentions suddenly looked really stupid. It was like the ghost of the girl I was running from traveled the 1300 miles with me just to fuck with me.
However, the one thing that I never lost touch with the entire time I was out there was my love of music. Ok, it may have been a little whiny and moody, but it was music. I would frequent Second Spin right off the 5, Go to Lou’s Records down in Encinitas and make day trips to the goddamn mothership, Amoeba Records in Hollywood. It was on one of those day trips that I met the man that I would love for the next 8 years…..
It started innocently enough. I was walking down the aisles at Amoeba, just kinda in some random daze, overwhelmed by the selection at my disposal. I had a few albums already selected (grumpy sad bullshit I’m sure) and then I ran into him. The cover instantly attracted me. I wasn’t sure what to make of this stranger, but I was sure that I had met him before. Maybe a not-so-distant past? Maybe another life? I really wasn’t sure, but I knew that my heart skipped a beat when I saw that cover and I felt compelled to purchase it. It was Shadows Collide with People by John Frusciante and it hasn’t left heavy rotation in nearly a decade. A decade. That’s like almost a third of my life!!
As soon as I got in my car, I popped that little beauty in to see what made me so attracted to it in the first place. I was greeted with a ton of feedback and weird shit for the first minute and a half. I was disappointed at first but decided to keep it in. Then, BAM! Like a ton of fucking bricks, “Carvel” kicked in and I was hooked. The entire record was amazing from beginning to end. I literately couldn’t stop listening to it. I imagine it was like what heroin is like for a first-time user, minus the gnarly shooting up and hanging out with assholes part.
So I figured, “Wow, good on John!” Finally, here was a record that spoke to me that wasn’t all doom and gloom. This shit made me happy again. This shit made me feel alive.
Eventually, I got over my heartbreak and moved back to Denver. Instead of coming back home defeated (although I was broke and substantially fatter), I came back rejuvenated. And, I had a new boyfriend in tow. Perfect. Now, not only could I get back to my life at home, but I could show off my hot new piece of ass that I found in Cali. That would show my ex. Bitch.
And that’s exactly how it began. Sure, I knew about John earlier (through the Chili Peppers) than our tryst in California would suggest, but now I had something unique. Something special. Then, a terrifying thought crossed my mind. What if this was just a one-time thing for John? What if the blossoming relationship that I had held as so special was just an easy piece of ass for him? I needed to find out. I did what any other rational person would do in that situation. I went to the record store.
I came home with the newly released Inside of Emptiness and the older Niandra LeDes and Usually Just A T-Shirt. Before succumbing to what I had hoped would be a night of aural ecstasy, I scanned the song titles on each. I noticed a song titled ” Your Pussy’s Glued To A Building On Fire” and immediately knew that I had found what I was looking for.
And that’s about it. I have been a first day buyer of everything Frusciante has released since then. Each release builds upon the last and makes me appreciate melody, harmony, rhythm, cadence, lyrics……everything, just a little bit more. My love affair with this man has been deep, passionate and often times, misunderstood by others. But that is where things started to get tricky……
Earlier this summer (2012) John sent out an email describing two new releases coming out later in the year. He briefly explained his intentions with these new recordings (and EP and LP) and accompanied the email with a picture. This picture:
Now I don’t know about you, but to me,that picture looks like a man about to rock the fuck out. That looks like a man on a motherfucking mission. That looks like a man that’s ready to steal my heart again and make me believe in music and melody. And that’s it. I was ecstatic. Thrilled. I was more jacked up than a meth head on Breaking Bad. I actually called my girlfriend to tell her the good news. Yeah, I’m that guy.
But, as I found out, looks can be deceiving. I knew after reading the press releases that these two albums were to be different than anything John had done. I figured that it would be good. After all, he hadn’t let me down yet. To the contrary, he had done nothing but please me with each successive release. I felt like a high school kid that just had a hot chick make out with him for two hours. My balls were huge and blue and I couldn’t wait for a release!
I received the EP Letur-Lefer on it’s release date. I anxiously waited for the mail that day and came home to find the new album waiting for me. I finally had 5 new songs to fall in love with. I put the disc in, put on my headphones, laid back on my bed and…………WHAT THE FUCK!!!! They must’ve sent me the wrong disc!!! This can’t be right!!!!
Much to my dismay, it was. John released an album alright. I’m just not really sure what or why he did. It was full of drum machines, electronic ticks and whizz’s and….the RZA?!? What the hell is this? I knew that these were going to be difficult albums, but I didn’t think that they would be like this. After two punishing spins through 5 songs, I took my headphones off, got drunk and went to bed.
And that was the end of my love affair. I knew that I would never be the same. I would never love like I once had. It’s been nearly two weeks since his new full length, PBX Funtacularwhateverthefuckitscalled has come out and I haven’t even picked it up. Look, I know people change. I know artists move on and change and grow with the times and try new things, but Jesus almighty Christ! It just hurts too much right now….
I’ve realized something really funny and ironic about this whole ordeal. John originally helped me find love and solace again when my heart was destroyed. Now, things have come full circle almost ten years later. He’s the one that broke my heart this time. I’m worried that there may be no fixing it. I’m so scared that I may never hear something so new, so pure again. I guess that’s life. Show love with no remorse (see what I did there???) until it doesn’t show you love back. Better to have loved and lost than never loved at all right? Oh well. I’m gonna load up my Ipod with some Cure songs and go eat the shit out of some corndogs……