A Little Fight Music
All my life people have told me that I’d outgrow my love of hard rock—that I would mature out of my youthful angst and leave Headbanger’s Ball in the dust. I never did—the more I grew, the more my metal-head grew, too. I earned my nickname “Haze” when I was barely into double digits in age, because of my love of Jimi Hendrix. And so began my addiction.
Earlier this week I drove to my office for a couple of days; it takes just over two hours when there’s no traffic. I take that time to think, pray or listen to music. On this trip I listened to my go-to favourite, RED — master of non-standard Christian themes, hard-driving rhythms, and pulverising vocals. Master of making me feel closer to God. I listened to every drumbeat, every guitar riff, every lyric as if I didn’t know them by heart. I paused when the guttural screams were coming. I took a deep breath when they were done. By the time I made it to Deerfield Beach I was in tears. Music does that to me. Continue reading