01/02/08, Thank You Adrienne
Below is a letter from Adrianne D. Her letter is why Lovedrug is able to keep doing this thing called music. Thank you Adrienne.
Dear Michael, David, Korey and James:
I just wanted to take some time to personally thank each of you for "Everything Starts Where It Ends" and your performance. I had the chance to see you guys in June in Lawrence, Kan. I had never heard Lovedrug before, but I instantly found a personal connection with the music. My best friend and I met you guys at the merch table after the show, and we were so impressed with your down-to-earth personalities and kindness. It was a highlight of my summer.
"Everything Starts Where It Ends" is my favorite album of 2007 and of all time. I connect with its songs on so many levels, and the music always helps me with the rough and good days alike. I listen to "Happy Apple Poison" while at the gym. "Salt of the Earth" is on my iPod when I am working late at night for my university's newspaper. "American Swimming Lesson" is what I listen to when I am mad at the world and U.S. society.
The most important song to me is "Everything Starts Where It Ends." I had a lot of heartbreak in 2007, and the song gives me so much hope for the future, especially the line "Wake up/You're alive/We're on your side." It sounds really cheesy, but whenever I am so sad and cannot physically get out of bed, I remember that line and your guys' friendly faces from June, and it all seems OK.
Also, I admire you guys for continuing your tour after your van and trailer were stolen and ruined. Most people would have given up, but you guys refused to, and I think that shows great courage and strength of character. Lovedrug isn't a modern-day rock band. You guys have class. You work hard, and your music is poetic with a message and connection. I truly respect that, and I am sure many other fans do as well.
Thank you guys so much, again, and I look forward to future albums and shows. Take care, and have a very happy new year.
Sincerely,
Adrianne D.
12/27/07, The Ascent: A Recent Search for Inspiration and Deeper Meaning
DAY 1
I landed today in the depths, below the sterile sky, a place abandoned by God after creation; barely touched by man. Unscathed, un-raped; this is true light. It slowly comes to reveal its' nature to me. For here pure good and pure evil share the same calm bed. And when it stretches out before you in a blank stare from the universe, the silent still and the savage storm bring forth the same fear to this lone soul standing here, staring into the empty beyond. Somewhere out here there is understanding. The only question is will I find it, or will it find me? And here, at the edge of the world, I can only imagine that the easiest way to find something I don't know how to look for is to simply look at everything I have never looked at ever before. And so, possibly for the first time in my life, I open my eyes.
DAY 2
No sleep last night; eyes closed and still all I see is white. Thoughts of the mysterious clamor my weakest waking dreams here, during the wind kings reign outside my small tented corner of this very large world. The mornings fist attempt at climb frightly slow adjustment to these surroundings. Confusion and abnormality pause my body and make it complain due to life too used to mild comfort. For here my body is my prison, my mind my cellmate, and my body can't yet understand my intentions, my dreams, my desires that I wish so desperately to accomplish here in this place. Time moves slow as seconds become hours in the hyper pulse of my hearts accelerated beat. Nothing done, little accomplished, but yet, one day closer; closer to freedom, closer to something.
DAY 3
I am slowly becoming more accustomed to my surroundings. The wind is rushing down from somewhere up the mountain. I can only imagine the Yeti up there, blending into the mountainside, eyeing my every move. He breathes out and the winds grow stronger, barreling downward far below until it reaches my face and chills my bones. If he is up there at all, he waits for something unknown to me. Regardless, I journey upward.
DAY 4
The sun comes to life as it rises over the hills in the distance. It is so bright that for a moment I believe in God again. But once my eyes focused and my body adjusted to the light I realized there was no warmth. And if this was God then He is a cruel jokester; providing the light and denying the warmth. But truly this is just a mild spectacle and a distraction from the unsettling and even more unnerving sounds I heard last night during my lack of dreams. Tiny clawing feet were everywhere, all around me. Were I not paralyzed by fear I would've attempted to look outside my tent to behold what horrors made those sounds. But alas I could not and today I am left with the equally crippling notions that either I imagined these terrible noises or indeed there are in fact some unknown heinous beasts out there that are now very aware of my apparently imposing presence in their land. Fear grips me, my brain tightens and onward I journey up the mountain.
Dusk arrives and I grow restless. My legs and feet are cold. numb lead. Things grow more desperate at night; more depressed, more lonely. The desire for warmth is as unbelievable as my hunger.
DAY 5
Awake. I can sense that the sun is about to rise, which brings with it a sense of accomplishment; another day survived. Lying here I stare at the top of my tent remembering as last night I was once again awakened by scratching, clawing sounds amplified outside in the snow, becoming more of a reality and less chance a figment of my imagination. I attempted to open my tent slightly to see what was making these horrible sounds, but when my fingers touched the zip door to my tent the sounds fell silent and retreated. It took me sometime to fall back to sleep again, but now having woken up here in the morning I am aware more than ever that I am being watched.
After breakfast I packed and began the days hike with reluctance. An hour in and it begins to snow. A storm is coming.
It hit without regard for anything human; encased in TV snow. It is too thick; too much for accepting resistance; for fighting ahead means pushing back at this point. Camp is difficult to make in this invasion of all things sensible. In the white I clamor to put myself together and survive the night. In the midst of the insanity I sensed something strange. The feeling again overcame me that I was indeed being watched. And swear I caught some eyes; blue eyes; glowing insatiable in the white. I am delusional. I am tired. I can't think. I must sleep.
DAY 6
I awoke with the strangest feeling. It was as if a large blanket of numbing iron fur was laid upon me and I could not move. My eyes were hazy and my mind was filled with water. Drugged. Bewildered. Was I captive to some strange, evil force? What was happening!? It took several minutes for me to open my eyes and truly accept my surroundings. I turned my gaze to the right and could see my tent about fifty yards away. I was pinned anchored to the snow by invisible bindings. My God! I thought; have I been out here all night? Why didn't I freeze? I didn't even feel cold. What kind of magic could this be? I blinked a few times to focus and then that's when I saw it. The creature was small, about the size of a large raccoon. Its legs were tough and wiry like a chickens and its fur was grey and swayed in the chilling wind. Its hands were oversized and claw like. Its arms were long. It had a long snout like a fox but teeth like a humans. I was a strange sight indeed and the creature was hunched over my pack by the tent, searching and clawing through my gear. It was searching for something. I refused to believe my eyes, but I couldn't stop staring, motionless. The creature stopped rummaging suddenly, jerked its head up and looked directly at me. It removed its claws from my pack and ran straight toward me. It practically glided over the snow as if weightless and stopped right next to my head. It reached its claw like hand down and into my mouth. I could not scream. I was wrought with fear. Its fingers felt like cold steel in my mouth. It grabbed hold of something and I was certain it would end me. But it did not. Instead it pulled from my mouth a small black glowing ball which the creature then crushed in its hand. The ball turned to dust and scattered in the wind. The creature slowly turned its gaze to me and for the first time we were staring right at each other. Its eyes were blazing blue and glowing as if to shield intruding looks from a universe of thought and knowledge. Out of innate reaction I closed my eyes and yelled silently in my skull. And then there was nothing.
When I came to I was lying on my belly next to my tent and I was very cold. I jumped to my feet and darted my glances in a three hundred and sixty degree notion to but saw nothing. What had happened? The creature had let me live for reasons unknown. What was it searching for? I couldn't be sure. One thing however was clear to me, I couldn't turn back. And even though my logic and fear spoke differently I knew that I must continue forward. I packed and set afoot. It was already 10:30. Looking upward I could see the misty green cloud surrounding the next climb into the unknown. Something was up there, and it was allowing me to climb. I was no longer here on my own terms.
DAY 7
Yesterdays climb was harder than usual due to my cluttered mind. I couldn't get that creature out of my mind. It was as if it had imprinted itself into my conscience and I could not escape it. Though today things seemed clearer and my food gave me gumption to take the days climb head on. My pack seemed lighter and my feet easier for the travel. I was pulling on my gloves when I noticed a deep cut on my right hand. I don't remember getting hurt or sustaining any injuries. Strange, it didn't hurt, though it was a dark red crimson and obviously quite deep. I retrieved my first aid kit from my pack and cleaned up the wound. It lightened a bit and I wrapped my hand with gauze. I put on my gloves and began walking. I looked up ahead to catch sight of several large rocks on a cliff sincerely up the mountain. One of them fell. My God! I thought; and avalanche!
It felt like a wild river made of charging bulls rushing over my every intention. 400 tons of snow threw me around like a doll and then pushed me under for the final sleep. It buried me God knows how deep and left me unconscious.
DAY 8
I came to suddenly with no idea what time it was. I couldn't move at all. The snow might have well as been a blanket of concrete. I was trapped, incredibly thirsty; numb from the waste down and completely certain that I'd suffered some sort of serious concussion. I could feel the warm blood dripping from the crown of my head, down my face and into my mouth where it turned to metal and gagged my will to stay clear and solace. Worst still I was feeling sleepy, and I knew this was a bad sign. For if I feel asleep now I might not wake up at all. I tried to keep my mind busy with logical issues such as math, geometry and religion but instead it wondered to other places.
My fiancé was an extraordinary woman. She was an achiever. Her hair was dark brown, almost black, but she often colored it to a deep, deep red. Her skin was smooth like silk and she always smelled like a soft dream in the cool autumn wind. She was thin with gorgeous features. Her eyes changed colors with the rising and setting of the sun. They had speckles on them like stars which made her eyes so perfectly unique and beautiful that I got lost in them constantly; a sea of green and grey to beautiful brown with hints of blue. There was a universe behind her eyes that few got to see. I was so lucky. There was a grace in the way that she carried herself that you just knew she was off to accomplish something great. She never wasted time but always enjoyed the moment. Nothing slipped by unnoticed. There was beauty in the world and she saw it. She wrote poetry. Her words were perfect, though she never knew it. She was a far better pianist than I and her voice was angelic. Her singing relaxed my cluttered mind and made me feel calm. When her hand touched mine it was delicate and soft. Our hands fit almost perfectly together. Her laugh was amazing and it always made me smile. She challenged me, made me stronger, more outgoing more confident. She made me a better person. She sought adventure and chased her dreams. Her lips were soft but not submissive, sleek and wide with prestige. The lines that surrounded her mouth when she smiled exuded great character and tenderness. Her smile melted my heart every time I knew it was for me. She dressed with class and never spoke with obscenities. She had respect for people and she genuinely cared. We'd stay up late in my apartment, talking about everything silly and serious. She was like a fine wine and her taste was impeccable. She was my dearest and closest friend. The only person I could say anything to, my one and only best friend. My love for her was the truest and purest thing I'd ever known or felt, even though I didn't realize it until later. Time changes things. Memories fade into a dream like state of haze and romance. It is hard not to think on such things. And yet there is another; two actually.
And then, like a television changes channels, there was rotten cole slaw, one piece of turkey and some rancid cold beans… then… click… Just snow.
Had I dazed off? How long had I been trapped under this prison of snow and ice? I couldn't tell whether it was day or night. I moved my fingers a little. My face was frozen with tears. I am going to die here.
DAY 9
Apparently, I did not wake.
DAY 10
The sounds of a thousand birds' wings and marching centipedes filled my thoughts and soon my mind convinced my ears that it was real. I was awake, warm and wet. The snow was melting and I could see the first signs of light in this eternal drowning darkness.
I must have passed out again; this time from hunger. For I awoke in a ten foot wide clean patch of green grass, warm and blinded by the sun. There was snow all around me but I was no longer wet. My pack lay beside me. I retrieved some food, devoured a small meal and investigated my surroundings. There were tracks leading to my clearing. Someone had saved me. Someone had managed to melt the ton of snow and ice on top of me, found my pack and given me a second chance at life here on this mysterious mountain. It was no longer fear that gripped me but a sense of gratitude instead. I strapped up, bundled myself and set forth on a new mission; I would find my savior.
DAY 11
I followed the tracks for hours without pause to the base of my first real intense climb. It was a wall of sheer smooth rock and ice and it stretched upward and out of sight. The higher I grappled upward, the stronger the winds got. And after a few hours I stared below at an abyss of black cloud. I was in God's country now and few survived it. I knew that as the wind picked up it would be an easy slip to doom. And if it caught me right I'd be hurled hopelessly to my death. Frightly I had no choice but to stop for a couple hours of sleep. I strapped myself with ropes and rivets to the rock and closed my eyes, wrapped like a mummy. An hour passed and I continued my climb; the winds continued to be perilous. I needed a way to dodge this storm for a bit. Worry and doubts about my success on this journey began to cloud my energy and direction.
DAY 12
The air got thinner as I climbed higher and higher. My arms were tired and cold to the bone. On top of this I was hearing music.
My back hurts so badly. These fucking people are so ignorant and demeaning it insults my being and makes me cringe with every disgusting breather they muster. These people should rot in a cage for the rest of their lives. Cleanse the streets of these scum I say. For the first time in my life I feel like I can relate to God. He too wanted to wipe these bastards out… I understand His anger with us now. We are fools. …Click…
Awake. Dangling from my rope on the ice cove, my face bloodied and bashed. I was a mutant weak force here. I must die.
DAY 13
My God, I can't go on. Time stretches out here like the wave of a sand storm. It is relentless, pounding and cruel. It knows no mercy and brings with it a pool flooding my soul with regrets and past lives gone wrong. I've never seen myself in such light. I am a horrible creature.
DAY 14
The bell. It rings. It rings. It rings. It rings. I can see her eyes through the not so distant darkening clouds. The snow flakes slow to a deafening pulse, turn over and stop in mid air, growing larger until the light catches their crystalline nature and reflects like a diamond in the clouds eye. Calm. Climb. Climb. Climb. Climb. Untouched air. Stealth black clouds filled with snow and death ice. Beauty is so very evil and pure sometimes. Climb and Climb. Ice ledge to rocky ice ledge and finally, a cave.
DAY 15
The cave was considerably wide and deeper than my eyes could behold. It was an odd find up here in the mountain, but it was my salvation from the storm. For soon, without shelter, I felt as though my head would explode, my eyes bleed and my lungs would collapse. At least now if it were to happen it would happen in the solace of a dry cave. I started a fire and soon my grandest worries melted for a bit while I sat victorious in front of this warm and tender flame. I ate beans and a rancid excuse for food, but it filled my belly and I felt good. It wasn't long after that I fell asleep and wondered into the dream place.
The prince had a nasty habit of getting what he wanted. Growing up with the endowments and riches beyond ones imagination has a way of turning what could be a potentially level headed individual into a savagely pompous non-thinker. For it took imagination to survive when you had nothing, but the Prince had much and hence would never understand the value of this moral. He was always surrounded by the newest, nicest fashions of clothes and extravagant entourages. He was rarely alone. And in the presence of his peers he felt rather obligated to fit the role which they so figured him to fill, the man of the hour. He was a competitive, pious flout with no regard for anyone but himself. His life was a routine portrayal of what poor men hate about riches.
There was however one curious, dusty corner of the Princes life that he kept very much to himself. There was an inventor who lived in a medium sized shack in one particular corner of the poverty stricken kingdom, not far from the exuberant castle where the Prince lived so very well. This inventor was an odd man, very intelligent, wise beyond his years and he surrounded himself by his work. For he, unlike many in that day, believed that this world was but a mere stepping stone to something greater in life and we as its inhabitants had a duty to better ourselves and search for improvement. He pushed the human mind and spirit to its limits. He had grey and white hair, disheveled and unkempt. He wore spectacles that were held together by rotary wire and twine. His hands were thin, long and purposeful. He always wore a heavy apron and tool belt filled with tools of his own design. Today he worked on something very special and very secret. And today, being a Tuesday, the second Tuesday of the month in fact, was the day on which every month the Prince snuck gingerly from his castle and came to visit the inventor. Maybe it was because the inventor amused the Prince with all his gadgetry and foolishness, or maybe it was something more, none could be sure.
Two knocks on the old wooden door and the Prince entered into the mysterious shop. The inventor greeted the Prince as usual with a warm smile and a nod. "What are you working on old timer?" said the Prince in a jovial tone. "Something incredible today my good Prince!" replied the inventor. "But it is not ready yet and a key element is missing. I must keep this secret. Come back in three months time and perhaps you can witness something grand." The Prince was disappointed and regretfully shuffled out of the shop.
Time passed slowly, and even though it was against the inventor's instruction the Prince did attempt to visit the medium sized shack in that particular corner of the village. But there was nothing, the inventor was not there. The Prince soon slipped lazily back into his routine of yakking with the court maids and generally being himself.
Then, in the dawn of the third month, early one morning there came quite a bustle all around the court and into the castle. The Prince awoke to sounds of great commotion and concern from down the hall. He walked down the hall to the council room where the doors were closed. He put a soft ear to the large wooden door and listened intently. "… and some shop maker in the 3rd quarter of the kingdom has found it sire! He fancies himself a magician of some sort we think." The Prince thought for a moment and knew they must be speaking of his friend, the inventor. "What is worst sire, the man may have discovered how to wield its' power!" 'We must stop him!" another voice cried out. A moment of silence passed and then the Prince recognized his Fathers voice. "Send the guards to arrange and pick up this shop maker, seize his materials and bring him to me." The Prince ran back to his room and dressed quickly. He then rushed quietly and undetected from the castle out of a secret passage through the garden pass and into the 3rd quarter of the village. He rushed into the inventors shop this time without his normal, jovial knock and looked around in worry. He spotted the inventor hunched over a lantern in the darkest corner of the dusty shop. "Good sir!" he cried. "The Kings guards come now to seize you and whatever magic you take work upon!" "Make haste, for they shall be here at any moment!" The inventor raised a bloodshot eye to the Prince as if he barely acknowledged his presence or what he had just said. "Good Sir!!" repeated the Prince. But before he could again state his warning there came a pounding at the door. It was the Kings guards. "Open up, in the name of the King, shop maker!" The shop maker darted from his seat with determination and crazed fright in his eyes. He grabbed the Prince, shoved a small satchel in his hands, pulled him back against the dark wall and shoved him until he fell over backwards through a section of wall that gave way not unlike a trap door, and then snapped back leaving the Prince completely hidden and surrounded by dust covered relics and stacks of books in other languages. The inventor was halfway across the room when the door burst open and the guards seized him angrily. For no one stand make the Kings guards wait for anything.
It took several hours or waiting before the last of the guards cleared out the remainder of tools and strange objects from the inventors now barren shack. It was about dark in fact when the Prince finally ventured out of the hiding place that he was so abruptly forced into. He lit a lamp that stood on an empty table in the middle of the shop. For these were the only two items left inside the entire shack. The guards had taken everything! The Prince stood for a moment in shock until he, startled, realized that he still held this satchel that the shop maker had given him so suddenly hours prior. He paused for a moment and then opened it. There was a soft glow that illuminated from the bottom of the bag. It was a large, black gem. What was this? What the…click…
The fire was almost out and soon the sun would come up. But this did not concern me. What concerned me was the several pairs of eyes that stared directly at me, glowing deep blue from across the ash of the smoldering fire I had started but hours ago.
DAY 16
My dream had left me with a good jolt that was hard to let go of. The creatures that surrounded me now were very similar to the creature I had encountered earlier in my journey; except these were all a little different, each with minor alterations. One was taller and thinner than the rest with slightly larger eyes. The Second was fatter and looked almost jovial. The Third held a small staff in its hand, with a squinted eye and stood slightly askew as if it had seen the darker side of battle. The Fourth wore a sash, stood wide and strong with arms crossed. The Fifth was the smallest of them all, wore spectacles and held two small black shining spheres. This one frowned and held a skeptical disposition. The Sixth stood a step or two in front of the rest, was of medium height and build, wore a belt that was adorned with what looked like small photographs and stretched out a hand as if to invoke silence before a speech, even though it was already quite silent, minus the sound or savage wind outside the caves entrance. The Sixth was obviously the leader of this group. His gaze was paralyzing. He stepped around the fire and walked toward me. He put out his claw-like hand and as if summoned, one of the black glowing spheres floated from the palm of the Fifth through the air and landed gently into the palm of the Sixth, now standing directly before me. He reached out his hand and placed the black glowing sphere next to my ear. It felt cold like ice and then it got warm. I thought of resisting, turning and running out of there; but why? These creatures had now spared my life on two occasions. Why would they save me then only to destroy me now? Besides, there was nowhere to run. The warmth that started at my ear soon took over my entire body and filled my being with a satiation that I have never before felt in my life. Then there was a popping sound and a hard long ringing that filled my head that nearly deafened my senses. It was painful but not unbearable. I opened one eye and caught expressions of wonder on the faces of these creatures. All of a sudden the ringing crew incredibly loud. I tried to scream but before my mouth could make a sound the ringing climaxed and stopped dead silent. And then, I could hear… everything. It was like my world to this point had been in black and white, one dimensional and shallow. But now I lived in multiple colors and multiple dimensions. I listened to the wind outside the cave. It sounded not like foreboding doom but instead it sounded musical and carried with it whispers from all corners of the earth, in all languages, and I could understand them all. Prayers, wishes, dreams, ghosts lamenting. It was terrible and beautiful all at once. The cave walls were alive and breathed a life into me. The smoldering fire was a wise old friend just now retiring for sleep, like a soldier that stood by me all night and now was off duty. A mutually understood salute to one another and the fire was out.
After what seemed like a lifetime of new discovery I remembered the company in which I stood. I returned my stares to the Six in front of me. They spoke, but their mouths did not move like ours. And the Sixth said to me, "what forth is your intention here on my Lord Bermegzees mountain?" He said it softly but with a determined authority. I responded quickly and in truth. "I search for inspiration and deeper meaning here in this land of beauty and solitude." The Sixth stared at me as though the answer neither pleased nor displeased his statuesque nature. The Fifth then spoke. "Do you know how it is that you have survived us in this our most sacred terrain?" I replied abashedly with a head shake, no. "We have allowed you to come, and twice over aided you in your quest!" He said. The Third then spoke in a rather gruff voice. "Our master wishes to speak with you. You shall stay here another day, and on the morrow Garduna will show you the way." It wasn't but a matter of seconds as he finished speaking that all but one vanished out the mouth of the cave. The Fourth stayed behind, and it wasn't until now that I recognized him. He was the one who was searching through my pack all but ten days prior. And then, she spoke.
Her voice was soft, tender and warming. It was calming and my body tingled at the sound of her beautiful voice. "I am Garduna. Look here." She took me to the edge of the cave and as I peered over I saw everything my new eyes. It was like the ground was right below me. Any point I fixed my eyes upon became magnified and I could see it clearly. And then I looked up. The sky and the stars were right there to touch. Heaven stood before me and I stared for an eternity.
DAY 17
The Morning came with amazing refreshment. I ate heartily from the fire that Garduna had started, and soon I realized that we were to leave soon. I put my pack together and prepared for whatever this journey might be. "We will have to take the old Wiseman's pass." Garduna said. "For you cannot climb the way we climb." I nodded and out of the cave I followed. Had I not my new eyes the way would have looked impossible. But a tiny ledge appeared that clung so very close to an ice wall scaling upward and out of sight. I followed Garduna as she said to me, "keep tight to the wall and within an arms reach of me and you shall be fine." I acknowledged and staid closed behind her, my body pressed so very tightly against the wall. It was difficult, but I felt a fool as I'm sure she was moving extra slow on my behalf. After what seemed like and endless climb we came upon a clearing and I told her that I must stop and rest. She hesitated a moment then turned to me and nodded. We sat in silence, I was breathing heavy, and she turned toward the sky and said softly, "I remember the first of your kind to traverse up our mountain. He was small for a human and carried with him many strange devices. His intentions became clouded and impure." She turned her head to look at me and said, "The world is not a safe place." "This mountain has been our refuge for many ages before men came and tried to corrupt it with their ill desires." I didn't know what to say. I felt ashamed. "Now, we must continue" She said.
It was dark when we reached a cave that seemed as though it rested on the top of the world. "We sleep here tonight, and on the morrow we shall travel into the mountain to the Masters Hall." She started a fire instantly. I ate and immediately fell into a deep, deep sleep.
DAY 18
I awoke to a terrible quaking all around me. It was still dark outside. The walls of the cave shook with loud thunder and to the point of a dangerous manner. My head felt like it was about to implode when I saw Garduna running straight toward me as she mumbled something I could not make out in the surrounding commotion. And then it was still. I could not see or move but my body was floating on its own accord and I had no idea what was happening. I tried to cry out for Garduna but I had no voice. It was like my being was suspended some other dimension where no one abided but safety surrounded. I was so at peace I had not a care and I fell asleep.
DAY 19
With the black gem in hand the Princes world changed in an instant. As if pulled through a portal of magic and illusion the gem had seized the Princes hand and had taken him to another land. It was familiar, but with a decrepit overtone. The Prince stepped out of the shop maker's cottage and looked around at a run down, deserted kingdom. White ash fell delicately from the sky. And far in the distance at the top of the sacred mountain a red fire glowed with such evil intent it frightened the Prince to shivers and spine. What was this world? "Where have I gone?" thought the Prince. And so he hurried back to the castle to speak with his Father, the king. Upon reaching the front gates the Prince knew that something was terribly wrong. Where normally the gate guards stood, instead there were two very large demon ogres wearing the blackest of armor. The Prince ducked quickly behind the trees and shrubs by the southern gate. He shrank in terror and shock as the demon guards breathed out a heavy mist and spoke in an evil tongue that the Prince recognized not. He knew that he must get inside the castle and somehow find out what had happened to the kingdom. The Prince traversed around quietly to the eastern side of the castle, hoping beyond hope that his secret passage was still intact. He arrived and praised be, it was. He snuck inside though the halls that but a day ago were so familiar but now held a resemblance to a maze of hell. Demon guards were everywhere. He took a secret passage that led to his chamber, the black gem still blazing into his left hand. He kept moving, through another passageway and to a back entrance of the Kings hall. He reached a portal behind an ancestral portrait and listened intently. He heard his father's voice but it sounded disturbed, weakened and frail. "The ballastad is fallen and my kin are dead. Take to the mountain these machines and steal back any life you can muster from it. For I am done in by he red eyes and soon you will have a body, my dear servant Valgerstad." The Prince moved the portrait slightly to see whom his Father had spoken such failure to. He saw then who he knew to be Jonathon, the Kings closest servant and confidant. But Jonathon drew vague resemblance to himself. Instead he was twisted. His face was olden and grey, eyes white, his fingers long and bone-like. He wore a black cape of pristine nature and had an amulet of evil power hanging from his neck. The Prince was alone, desolate and doomed. He left the castle in bewilderment and ran until his lungs bleed up the base of the mountain. Staring red into the upward abyss he fell silent and breathed lighter.
When I came to I was in a calmly lit room. It was dry and warm. Garduna stood to my left, the other five stood in front of me. Behind me there was what appeared like a council of creatures all in the like, all awaiting something. And then came a strong voice, large and booming with authority. Yet there was a tender honesty in its tone. "Tell me why you are here." I turned to see what had made such a sound and beheld an amazing sight indeed. The creature stood about 8 feet tall, as wide as a car, with arms like cannons. The hands were witch like, boney with nails, but obviously very strong. His face was stern but generally very handsome. His fur was silky, thick and hung rustled in a breeze coming from the depths of the cave. As calmly as I could I answered, "I search for solitude and deeper meaning; an inspiration, if possible." "It is indeed possible." Boomed the voice quickly. He continued to stare at me. His eyes were very deep and dark green in color. He opened his mouth as if to speak, hesitated a moment and then said quietly, "walk with me for a time." I nodded and followed him as he left this hall through a rear passage into a room with many doors. "Where do all of them lead?" I asked. "They all go to different places, some pleasant, some not." "You see, it is like this at all times, isn't it." "What do you mean?" I asked.
He began… "well… All life begins with a choice, which leads to an action, which has a response and then a consequence. There is truth inside of everyone. But few have the constitution to show it. The strength of a man is in his honesty and his willingness to sacrifice for what is right. Goodness costs something. Character is radiance, and it can't be smothered when in the face of hardship and certain demise one acts on behalf of those around him through love and selflessness. THIS is inner beauty. It has nothing to do with the intentions of men. It has everything to do with the actions of men. Cease to do evil, learn to do good, seek justice, rebuke oppression. A man who follows these things is a good man and is deserved of a heaven. And if it does not accept him then it is not heaven and its God is not understanding. For, a true God would know this and would seek for these men. As I do."
There was a moment of silence and my mind was alert in wonder of this creature's logic and wisdom. I stopped and noticed him looking at me. "You thought me to be different in nature did you not?" I nodded, ashamed of my previously stereotypical thoughts of a snow monster that terrorized everything in its path. "Make no mistake, I am a beast…" Could He hear my thoughts?!? …"and it is in my nature to destroy you." "Why haven't you yet then… um … Sir?" I asked. He smiled down at me. "If we meet again… I shall." I turned ahead as I felt mildly fearful. "But for now," He said, "take what I have said to you and live life as you shall." "Sir..?" I said timidly… "What should I call you?" "My name is Bermegzees." "Um, Bermegzees, sir… I've had these strange dreams since I've been here on your mountain... of a Prince and a strange world." "Ah yes." He took an expression of concern and mild wonder. There was a pause. "He was my brother. We lived together for a time in this mountain. "He never should have spoken to Jonathon, the shop maker." "Jonathon?" I blurted. "I thought Jonathon was the King's servant turned against him?" "Yes," said the creature, "he was the king's servant, he was also the shop maker and he was always against him. The stone turns all to ill will you see. Any one who touches it. So was the fate of the Prince, eventually. First it was his hands, and then the rest of him was transformed." "Where is he now?' I asked solemnly. "The Prince stands before you now." He said sternly. I jerked my head quickly and said "But, if you are the Prince, then who was the brother?" His eyes turned seriously like a storm. "My brother lived in the stone. He is an ancient evil. He traverses the world and collects the souls of the ill fated. But sometimes he doesn't follow the rules, sometimes ending those before their time. He is not welcome here anymore." "You have a good heart traveler; you should put it to good use more. If it is inspiration you seek than travel not, for it comes from within." "And now, you must go." He began ushering me toward one of the doors. I did not want to leave. I had so many questions! "Wait! What door do I take?" "It matters not." He said, now turning to walk away. "Will your brother come for me?? How will I know him?! How can I avoid Him?!" He turned his head slightly, still walking away from me. The cave was become brighter now. A white light was overcoming my eyes and turning the room to powder. "You have already known him" He said "Though He has yet to touch you. Be steady of heart traveler." "What is His name?!!" I yelled. The creature turned, almost completely engulfed in the blinding white, his eyes now burning green in the distance. His last glance toward me as the walls now shook through the timbre of his voice. "He is called… The Gemberzee. He is my Brother. He is me." And then the white surrounded me and there was nothing.
DAY 20
Awake. A voice blared from overhead. I laid flat on my back, close to the ceiling, cold and hungry. "Six-thirty wake up call, male inmates down for trays."
11/27/07, Home
Cheerio poeple,
It is our pleasure to return home unscathed from yet another stint in battle on the road. Many a life lessons were learned on this run and many a great new friends were made thanks to the kindness of Blue October, Yellowcard, and Shiny Toy Guns. Good things are rumbling below the darkest caverns of the Lovedrug castle. As good old Bob once said, the times they are a changing. Sometimes it's hard to see right in front of you when your eyes are wide open. Blinking is neccessary.
Holidays are neccessary. Blood is neccessary. Virtual reality rape is neccessary too sometimes appearently; especially when dished out in healthy steaming portions by one's own beloved record label. But enough about that. Good cheer to all in these times of merriment and plastic surgery. I've asked Santa for a new soul this Christmas...
we'll see if he comes through. If not, I'm sure you'll hear all about it on the next Lovedrug record. Coming sooner rather than later this time around by the way. Ok, I've said enough already. I'll try to keeps things interesting here on the ol' website from now on... so do keep in touch, with an ear to the ground and a bullet in the sky.
Yours truly,
LD
4-25-07, Cleveland, OH
It's funny how it seems that the biggest problems we often face are ironically the ones we try so to escape.. or at least avoid. But in my mind, sometimes, problems aren't always these grand life gestures.. or mountains to be over come for the good of spirit and morale. But instead they are mere road blocks on our way to enlightenment. And I'm not talking about the Buddhist mentality either... what I mean is.. a place where we feel like we are doing what we are suppose to be doing without compromise.
It is alarming how much I feel compromised on stage every night.
You see... my natural instinct isn't to entertain.
When I was younger in elementary school my teachers found me to be unusually quiet. I never spoke to the other classmates and I rarely played at recess time either. It wasn't that I wanted to be excluded... it wasn't that I felt better than anyone else(although that's what most thought)...
and it wasn't that I hated any one... in fact it was quite the opposite.. I truly wanted to be a class clown or someone that was admired and popular..
someone that other kids would love to play with and talk to. But my problem was that I felt like if I opened my mouth to talk or started having fun and playing that everyone would stare at me and I would become an act that would then be on display for immediate disapproval. So I spent the majority of my childhood quiet, alone and pretending to be someone else.
My salvation came when I discovered music. I finally found a way to be myself and and display my emotions but not have to interact and feel awkward around others.... or so I thought. So I started writing songs, and eventually singing... mainly because there wasn't anyone else around to do it. I found that lyrics could so comfortably become my hiding place, where I could craft and figure out my words exactly before delivering them.. and the music was my playground, somewhere I could let loose, be free, and not fear judgement. I felt happy, elated and honest in my new found gift... and that feeling lasted for years... until now.
When enough people like something they hear or see.. it will inevitably get turned into something else entirely. Don't get me wrong, I wanted everyone in the world to hear the music I was working on. But after five years of being involved in "the machine" as I like to call it, I find that I am once again out on the playground without anything to say to anyone... like a puppet awaiting to be stared at.
Regardless of what they say.. when people come to see a concert they expect to be entertained to a certain degree. And in this culture that has been cultivated by consumers and non-consumers alike an artist's ability to have success is often chained to their ability or inability to entertain.
And quite honestly... I hate it.
I'm not good at talking to people. I'm not good at being witty and appealing. I'm not attractive by modern standards. I'm not a people person.
I don't know how to win over a crowd. All I can do is write music that I like and play it for people. So I guess by today's standard... I'm not going to succeed.
What would you do?
Sincerely,
Michael Shepard
4-28-07, New York City
Thoughts regarding NYC...
The presence of insanity exists in New York City... mostly in the form of 24 hour parking lots that won't let you park a van and trailer in them to save a life.
New York is always a bit of a blur.. but that's why we love it too.
Irving plaza.. excuse me.. hhmm... the Filmore...
is such a great venue.. and certainly the best crowd we've had all tour. New York knows how to love... lovedrug.
However, the two hours I spent driving around the city in search of parking was a fascinating time of self discovery.. and I'd like to share it with you. I found that keeping one's mind occupied while attempting to complete drawn out fruitless activities is key in accomplishing them... and in the mean time you can get alot of good old fashioned thinking done. For instance.. thinking about things like:
-Before they invented drawing boards, what did they go back to?
-Why do irons have a setting for permanent press?
-If the number 2 pencil is the most popular, why is it still number 2?
-How young can you die of old age?
-Can you be arrested for selling illegal-sized paper?
-If man evolved from monkeys and apes, why are there still monkeys and apes?
-Isn't it a bit unnerving that doctors call what they do a "practice"?
- If Psychics can really see the future then why don't you ever see the headline "Psychic Wins Lottery"?
-Who was the first person to see a cow and think "I wonder what will happen if i squeeze these dangly things and drink whatever comes out?"
Think deep you deep thinkers....
Sincerely,
Michael
photos by: Korey
4/18/07, Boston, MA
I got attacked by a little dog named Ricardo. It bit my hand, then yelled at me.
-james
photo by: Korey
4/17/07, New York, NY
Always a great time in NYC. We had a great show, and everybody was enthusiastic. Love it!
-James
photos by: Korey
4/13/07, York, PA
I find it quite bizarre when you wake up in the bed that you’ve slept in half your life, seen your high school principal, and played a show back on tour all in one day. It is great to be back playing shows and out of the world of the sick. It was quite a charming experience to be back home for a few days and have food that actually likes your body and be around the people you love. One thing that I learned this weekend is that no matter how old you are, a wiffle ball home-run derby never gets boring.
-korey
photos by: Korey
4/6/07, St Petersburg, FL
St. Pete. It was a great day. I had lunch by this pond, and this weird ass duck tried to take my food. He kept looking at me with this Jeffery Domner look. Please people, don’t feed the wildlife! The show was great. State Theatre, this goes out to you. David had a flamingo on his microphone…well…you tell them david:
“Oh hey James…yea…umm, so there was this pink flamingo on my mic stand when I entered the stage. Kinda like “enter the dragon.” So ah….it worked out cause my hair looked like an explosion of crappiness and I just hid behind the flamingo the whole show. HI-YA!”
Cool.
-james.
4/5/07, Atlanta, GA
This was a weird gig. I was abducted by a sasquatch. It wasn’t super weird though because it was a female one and she was actually really nice. We went to Canada together to view Niagara Falls. I pushed her into the falls and ran back to the motorcycle we had rode in on. I didn’t feel so bad about it though. Murder is something that any normal human can get used to.
-david
4/4/07, Jackson, MS
Yes!! I went to the doctor this morning and got some drugs!!! I don’t have insurance so it was really expensive, but I don’t really care. I just want to feel better, so I spent most of the day in a haze of vicodin. (which just happens to be one of my favorite drugs.) How rad!! I don’t think we’ve played Jackson in over two years. I have no idea why. Some of my favorite people and biggest Lovedrug fans live there. So wonderful to be back. It was a splendid night!
-david
4/3/07, New Orleans, LA
This is the fourth day of being the sickest I’ve ever been on tour. Fever, cold sweats, every muscle sore, lying in the van all day and all night except for the show. Unhealthy amounts of aspirin. Ahhh….I want to die!!!
-david
4/3/07, New Orleans, LA
"You can crush us, you can bruise us, and even shoot us, Oh, Guns of Brixton"
I’ve been thinking lately that regardless of who we are: lawyers, musicians, spinners, prisoners, artists, teachers, soldiers, presidents, students, lovers, addicts… we all reach points where we must put down our guns that defend ourselves and put out our hands. What it really comes down to in those times is putting ourselves aside and considering other people and things that matter. I get so caught up in myself sometimes and don’t realize that there are so many other things and people I must be more concerned about. We are getting closer to New Orleans, which always reminds me of my best friend and our experiences there. I can’t wait for the French Quarter, especially Café Du Monde where I will gorge myself with beignets and coffee until I puke.
Au Revoir!
- Korey
photo by: Korey
4/2/07, Houston, TX
Super 8 motel coffee is not very good. Comfort Inn coffee is fairly tasty, but their decaf is always watered down. Ramada has the worst coffee of all and possibly the worst "continental breakfast" of all. Yes, the Ramada or the "snake in the grass" as we call it is a hotel that is generally thought of to be quite nice when in reality is neutrally quite bad. Motel 6 has been improving, but is still not great. Their decaf is very good though. The Red Roof Inn rarely has coffee…or cleansheets for that matter. We never stay there. The Hilton has amazing coffee but we never stay there either. It’s too expensive. Days Inn and Sleep Inn are both safe bets. They both have middle of the road coffee, but it’s always consistent. It’s never never great, and it’s never bad…it’s always there to calm you.
The best coffee of all is at the Peabody in Memphis. This is ironic because Memphis is one of the dirtiest cities in the world. We’ve never stayed there though…I just snuck into the lobby once.
Everyone’s sick right now and I’m getting scared. All this talk of coffee is but a mere distraction.
- Michael
Saturday, March 29th
Fundamental reasoning, logic and general survival instincts sometimes take a minute to kick in, especially when you’re being chased by the cops down some unknown road in some unknown town in someone else’s Firebird. It occurs to you at this point that even though your intentions were clean, these particular law enforcement officials could possible mistake you for an auto lifter. Your mind wanders…I can see it now… "Of course I haven’t been drinking, officer!" "Oh this car? No, no. The young lady at the party said she needed her oil changed, I’m just helping out." "Yes, yes I realize it’s 3 in the morning. It seemed foolish to me too, but she was very convincing…" It goes downhill from there as three more cruisers pull up and they ask you to get out of the car. But just then…suddenly…a stroke of luck hits when an ambulance flies by at top speed, swerving to miss hitting a three legged dog standing in the middle of the road and ends up flipping over like a gunny sack crashing into oblivion. The poor fellow they were carrying in the back spills out onto the pavement like a piece of tenderloin. These cops suddenly had bigger fish to fry! They love the smell of massacre in the moonlight. They leave you be and you gracefully cruise back to the hotel for a couple of hours of rest before a new day brings new evil banging at your door. The Gemberzee was out that night, make no mistake about it…but hot after you he was not. So another day passes and the tour continues.
- Michael
photo by: Korey
Friday, March 23rd
Here are how the facts go. I’ve been hooked on LCD Soundsystem! I’ve been wondering for some reason is Clint Eastwood has listened to The Good, the Bad, and the Queen yet…just curious. Also, for some reason, David Bowie seems to be great morning music. Basically, what I’m trying to say is that I was tripping on LSD, not LCD, and I saw Bowie and Eastwood challenging each other to a duel. This is what I think about when I get bored out of my mind in casinos.
- Korey
Thursday, March 22nd
We are in Vegas. I just played quarter slots and won $7 with $1. Maybe I should rethink my profession…
- David
Monday, March 19th
The path through the woods leads to your salvation. Mine too. The twisting is never as fun as it is painful, but the end is worth the love. Isaac was all too right.. "in this life like weeds, you're the dirt I breathe".
The hostility is jarring and gorgeous here in Austin. The town glows red long after the sun goes down. It sets fire to dreams, lights up the will and gives even the bravest of souls a purpose.. even if for just a moment, we all sink into it and become one shaken toad..
just waiting for the princess who may never kiss us. In true Texas form the people fold us into their arms and we take it.. love it. the hug that awaits like mother's arms. Thank you Austin.. it shant be forgotten.
Sleep sound,
Michael
Saturday, March 17th
On this day, the events were horrible. I lost my van keys, then found them in my bag. I felt like a horses ass.
- James
photo by: Korey
3/12/07, Denver, CO – Marquis Theatre
Denver! Denver! Denver! Every time I arrive at your doorstep I am panting and starving of breath. You are beautiful. Your mountains and snow, your relaxed western vibe and health conscious culture. Oh how I love it, and OH! OH! OH! I CAN’T BREATHE!!
- David
photo by: Korey
3/7/07, Lawrence, KS – Granada Theatre
Oh Lawrence, Kansas: Town of such lovely unique shops and wonderful places to feed ones hunger. In my mind this would be a neat place to spend any holiday. Record shops, coffee shops, shop shops. Every time I visit here I get a strange sense of coming home. Though I must say I am not, nor have ever been the biggest fan of the Midwest. God bless you Lawrence. May the sun always be at your brow and the cool wind to your back.
- David
Monday, February 12th
SIDENOTE: If all of you out there in Download-ville WANT me to break up the band, then by all means illegally burn copies of our record and download them to your heart's content. If you DON'T want me to break up the band then PLEASE, have a heart and buy it. Tell your friends to buy it. Have your dog buy it. Have your dog's kids buy it. Every time someone out there burns a copy of our record (even if you are spreading the good word, which we appreciate) you should definitely keep in mind that you are not "screwing a record label", you are not "sticking it to the man", you are not "beating the system", what you are doing is slowly but surely putting me and my bandmates out of a job... and when that happens... we won't be able to make records anymore because we won't be able to afford to. This might sound like elitist artist bullshit.. but I assure you it is not. You can't possibly fathom just how close to starving WE really are. Thank you for your cooperation.
Sincerely,
Michael and the gang
Wednesday, February 6th
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ok. Done flying now. Asleep on the airport floor. Stinky Lovedrug asleep asleep. I have flown so much in the past 5 days I fear my head is set permanently on clog. Hey USA. Good to see ya. Good to know ya. Get bored and show ya. Whatever. Not sure what’s happening now?
- Michael
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Sunday, February 4th
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jet lag witch hag, punching bag… my head. Ouch ouch. Be well be well. The kids are on their way. Sure enough.. good things are all around us. 1st gig was a blow out.. totally packed… good things… good vibes… we played like shit due to extreme exhaustion but oh well… what can one do? Show 2 was spectacular though… which we just played. The folks here really know what they’re doing when it comes to matters of technical dealing. The sound was phenomenal… way better than the states. An even though there was a complete communication break down between us and the sound fellow…he was still faster than anyone I’ve worked with back home. Long clap means good thing. We were surprised to hear such pleasant responses considering our non-metal/non-pop punk-ness. All and all fabulous. Yes.
- Michael
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Tuesday, January 30
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left for japan today. odd feeling. never been, 5am sneaks up on you like a meat hook to the spine. generally I load up on about 6 cups of café before venturing out into the cold blissless reality that is the outside world. but today I had only 4. the airport is a class A letdown as usual with their security nonsense and orange flavored what-have-you. James and I were so in need of nicotine that we put ourselves through it three times just to go back out and smoke a bit. nonsense really… don’t know why I do it. Anyhow… getting off of the track. thirteen hours in a plane is no small feet to conquer, with the germs and bad air and what not, I feel almost lost on the fact that we are traveling to the other side of the world.
- Michael
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Thursday, October 26th
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Cinci is always pleasent this time of year. My head was a bit on the
jangley side from the sinus junk I've been taking lately, saw Dave naked
again in the green room, ease the throat with some whiskey, find the tone...
the tone is good... the people are good... alll is good! So... things went
off rather well. And as the good lord intended.. rock occured. Thanks Ohio.
You are the heart of it all!
-Michael
-Michael
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Thursday, October 19th
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I wish I could take all of you and bring you back with me into the studio. An album will never sound as good as it does fresh off the line. Cranking at you at full volume through studio monitors made of gold and leather. Beautiful I tell you... beautiful. live is different.... blow a chord and it's gone... rock out..whatever.. on your knees if you please.. in the air.. I don't care. What matters is that we are all feeling it together. We are not digitally planted on this earth. We are free moving, free floating spirits of the next life that are here for but a moment to feel everything that we can. So... come on out and feel it with us.
-Michael
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| Sunday, October 15th
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