Memorial Service for Josh
The service for Josh the other day was a beautifully fitting tribute to our friend. People from all over the country came to pay their respects, and we filled the chapel (and adjacent rooms) to the brim with love and support. It was the type of outpouring that reaffirmed how special he really was...and a sight that I will not soon forget. Thank you so much to all of you who came, and all who have reached out to us these past couple days.
As we are faced with the task of going back out on the road so soon after losing our brother, we have decided to cancel all shows until May 13th. Sorry to those of you who are in Texas, we will be back soon.
People have been asking us about the song we performed at the service. It's called "To the Other Side" and was written by our good friend Chris Kasper for his band "The Lowlands". You can find it on their myspace page .
I have also been asked to make the eulogy I wrote available to read, so I've decided to post it on our blog.
In music, there are these rare moments of transcendence, a feeling of unity of the soul with its surroundings. It is an emotion of sublime joy, to know that you are not alone in this world, that everything is bound together. For me, this is as close as it gets to proof of a higher power, and I feel that when we experience these moments of enlightenment, our souls are connected to the place where all came from and we all will return.
For the past 7 years, I have been fortunate enough to have the privilege of these experiences with my best friends in this band, The Brakes, and together we have formed an irrevocable bond. Music is a conversation on the most basic level, and in those moments of fleeting brilliance I have found peace. Now that Josh, my friend and brother has been so cruelly and abruptly taken away from us, it leaves us all devastated. However, in this energy flow, found in music and nature and other expressions of the soul, will be Josh, bound by this benevolent force that connects us all.
Josh was a lover of life's simple things. He loved being outside, reading, good beer, listening to music, smoking pipe tobacco, and a good laugh. He was also a hopeless romantic, and his love for women and their companionship was very important to him. Now that his life has been cut short by this horrible cancer, I just wish we could have given him all of the experiences he has now been robbed of. He was so young and so passionate and I loved him like a brother.
I had a dream last week, and in that dream was Josh. We were all riding in the van, traveling the country together on another tour, another adventure. It was summer and he was driving across the open landscape, so happy, and full of life. He looked tan and healthy, with a full head of hair. In the dream, we didn't really talk to each other but he looked at peace. It's there; on the road together where my fondest memories of him live. It was a time where we were young and free of responsibility; a naïve fantasy, where everything turns out right.
I used to think about us all growing old together; we would visit each other's families, and reminisce about being young and stupid; about the experiences we shared together. I imagined Josh and I as old men, talking about the good old days outside on his porch, him smoking his pipe and remembering us traveling across the country, playing for thousands of people and for handfuls, figuring things out on our own. Now that he has passed, this callow dream of mine will never be a reality, but his memory will remain strong in all of us.
As a musician, Josh was incredibly gifted. He learned very quickly, and his analytical mind was powerful and open. He was able to play any instrument he could get his hands on, and few people know this, but in addition to being an excellent drummer, he was a great bass player and teacher.
About 6 months before he got sick, I noticed a huge leap forward in his drumming. He was able to achieve a level of musicianship on the drums that few reach. He seemed to become the drummer that we all thought he would be someday and it was a great joy to see. I always knew he had great potential, and to see it realized made me very happy. It seems fitting that all of those performances were documented and an album was made to remember that incredible time in our histories. His playing was so steady and confident; I used to tell him that he had achieved "Bonham" status. He shrugged it off humbly like I knew he would, but I knew it meant a lot to him.
When I was in the studio mixing the songs, Josh was already in the hospital. I remember thinking how important it was for everyone to hear his superb drumming on these recordings. Now more than ever, I feel it's my duty to have the world hear and remember Josh, for the smart, talented and passionate friend that he was.
We were able to play with him a couple weeks ago, when he came over to hang out with us during a practice for our upcoming tour. As I watched him, he looked a little dazed as he sat on the couch in Derek's basement, conducting the tunes in his head as we played through them. But the moment he stepped behind that drum set, he came alive and the music just poured right out of him. I will never forget the expression on his face as he played; it was one of deep concentration but complete ease and relaxation at the same time. It was if for those brief minutes, he had been set free by the music. All of the pain, and months of chemotherapy disappeared, and there he was filling the missing link in our irrevocable bond. It was a really cathartic moment for all of us. And I don't think that any of us knew that that was the last time we would ever see him, but I am so glad that we got to play with him one last time. I will remember it always.
I want to close by saying that in the wake of this tragedy, I feel I've learned something very important. For me there is definitely a loss of innocence and naivety that will never be regained, but I've acquired a newfound respect for the moments that we usually take for granted. I think we should all lament on that for a second…nothing we do should be taken for granted, because we never know what the future has in store for us. And as we move forward, I think Josh's memory should serve as a reminder to live our lives to the fullest.
I consider myself lucky to have known Josh, and his presence and energy will live on in our fondest memories. To my brother, my friend and my companion…I love you so much and you will be in my thoughts for the rest of my days on this earth.
As we are faced with the task of going back out on the road so soon after losing our brother, we have decided to cancel all shows until May 13th. Sorry to those of you who are in Texas, we will be back soon.
People have been asking us about the song we performed at the service. It's called "To the Other Side" and was written by our good friend Chris Kasper for his band "The Lowlands". You can find it on their myspace page .
I have also been asked to make the eulogy I wrote available to read, so I've decided to post it on our blog.
For Josh
In music, there are these rare moments of transcendence, a feeling of unity of the soul with its surroundings. It is an emotion of sublime joy, to know that you are not alone in this world, that everything is bound together. For me, this is as close as it gets to proof of a higher power, and I feel that when we experience these moments of enlightenment, our souls are connected to the place where all came from and we all will return.
For the past 7 years, I have been fortunate enough to have the privilege of these experiences with my best friends in this band, The Brakes, and together we have formed an irrevocable bond. Music is a conversation on the most basic level, and in those moments of fleeting brilliance I have found peace. Now that Josh, my friend and brother has been so cruelly and abruptly taken away from us, it leaves us all devastated. However, in this energy flow, found in music and nature and other expressions of the soul, will be Josh, bound by this benevolent force that connects us all.
Josh was a lover of life's simple things. He loved being outside, reading, good beer, listening to music, smoking pipe tobacco, and a good laugh. He was also a hopeless romantic, and his love for women and their companionship was very important to him. Now that his life has been cut short by this horrible cancer, I just wish we could have given him all of the experiences he has now been robbed of. He was so young and so passionate and I loved him like a brother.
I had a dream last week, and in that dream was Josh. We were all riding in the van, traveling the country together on another tour, another adventure. It was summer and he was driving across the open landscape, so happy, and full of life. He looked tan and healthy, with a full head of hair. In the dream, we didn't really talk to each other but he looked at peace. It's there; on the road together where my fondest memories of him live. It was a time where we were young and free of responsibility; a naïve fantasy, where everything turns out right.
I used to think about us all growing old together; we would visit each other's families, and reminisce about being young and stupid; about the experiences we shared together. I imagined Josh and I as old men, talking about the good old days outside on his porch, him smoking his pipe and remembering us traveling across the country, playing for thousands of people and for handfuls, figuring things out on our own. Now that he has passed, this callow dream of mine will never be a reality, but his memory will remain strong in all of us.
As a musician, Josh was incredibly gifted. He learned very quickly, and his analytical mind was powerful and open. He was able to play any instrument he could get his hands on, and few people know this, but in addition to being an excellent drummer, he was a great bass player and teacher.
About 6 months before he got sick, I noticed a huge leap forward in his drumming. He was able to achieve a level of musicianship on the drums that few reach. He seemed to become the drummer that we all thought he would be someday and it was a great joy to see. I always knew he had great potential, and to see it realized made me very happy. It seems fitting that all of those performances were documented and an album was made to remember that incredible time in our histories. His playing was so steady and confident; I used to tell him that he had achieved "Bonham" status. He shrugged it off humbly like I knew he would, but I knew it meant a lot to him.
When I was in the studio mixing the songs, Josh was already in the hospital. I remember thinking how important it was for everyone to hear his superb drumming on these recordings. Now more than ever, I feel it's my duty to have the world hear and remember Josh, for the smart, talented and passionate friend that he was.
We were able to play with him a couple weeks ago, when he came over to hang out with us during a practice for our upcoming tour. As I watched him, he looked a little dazed as he sat on the couch in Derek's basement, conducting the tunes in his head as we played through them. But the moment he stepped behind that drum set, he came alive and the music just poured right out of him. I will never forget the expression on his face as he played; it was one of deep concentration but complete ease and relaxation at the same time. It was if for those brief minutes, he had been set free by the music. All of the pain, and months of chemotherapy disappeared, and there he was filling the missing link in our irrevocable bond. It was a really cathartic moment for all of us. And I don't think that any of us knew that that was the last time we would ever see him, but I am so glad that we got to play with him one last time. I will remember it always.
I want to close by saying that in the wake of this tragedy, I feel I've learned something very important. For me there is definitely a loss of innocence and naivety that will never be regained, but I've acquired a newfound respect for the moments that we usually take for granted. I think we should all lament on that for a second…nothing we do should be taken for granted, because we never know what the future has in store for us. And as we move forward, I think Josh's memory should serve as a reminder to live our lives to the fullest.
I consider myself lucky to have known Josh, and his presence and energy will live on in our fondest memories. To my brother, my friend and my companion…I love you so much and you will be in my thoughts for the rest of my days on this earth.
1 comment:
Feels good to re-read this eulogy and remember Josh and you guys as the wonderful band of brothers that you are. These were such awesome times!
I am speechless.
Lind R-K
Post a Comment