You best believe it!
I sometimes forget about the simple truths of life. No, I ALL THE TIMES forget about the simple truths of life, once being the healing powers of music.
Yeah, today was one of those days again, but instead of bringing here in some vague fashion, I decided for some music therapy (by the way, am I the only person that looks at "therapist" as a compound word?).
I was reminded of my limo driving days, sometime in 1999 or 2000 when I was also having a down day. Left to my own devices, I did the only sensible thing I could think of and blasted Slayer (Seasons in the Abyss)as I tooled around the streets of NYC, exploiting the fine stock sound system of the Lincoln Town Car to it's maximum decibelness. And no, I wasn't "heavy" at the time ("heavy" is limo lingo to say that you have a customer. "Light" is the opposite of "heavy," to say that you currently have no job). The Slayer definitely did the trick.
Later that night, coincidence of coincidences, I get a call to go AD ("AD" is for "As Directed" in limo lingo, that is, you go wherever the client tells you go to. "As Directed!) for the night with Rick Rubin. We didn't talk much during the course of the night as I took him from midtown to Brooklyn, but I did tell him my little story of my Slayer therapy from earlier in the day. I think he was appreciative. Well, I hope he was more appreciative than creeped out.
Today it's not Slayer making the rounds. I started with Adrenalin O.D., one of the finest contrupuncti to ever contropunct, and maybe the finest ever to come out of New Jersey. I followed this with some DOA., and while I didn't play any MDC, I reflected on how much their music meant to me (and still does, all these bands). And right now I'm listening to The Meatmen's, We're The Meatmen And You STILL Suck! and it's yet to fail to move me, even 22 years later. Of course, it's not recommended to play in mixed company ("mixed" being any decent-thinking human being), but fortunately those kind of people don't come around here much.
We'll steamroll you, you'll eat our poop!
Finer words were never written, Tesco...