Rock Your Boat Baby

“Rock ’n’ rollers are....the noise makers, the law breakers, the bottom-bashing fornicators.” 
                 - from Pirate Radio
 
“And we make no apologies for it.”
                 - from SuperFly Clint Piatelli

A while ago, I caught Van Halen perform on the Jimmy Kimbal show. The band shut down Hollywood Boulevard and performed live, in the street, on a huge stage. A true rock n roll event. The song aired was “Hot For Teacher”. 

Crowd shots showed 6000 people, none of whom were shaking, head banging, dancing, or otherwise moving. They were all standing still, smart phones held with both hands overhead. Not even their heads were moving, lest the vibration shake their camera and ruin their footage.

I get it. Those 25 and under have grown up in a culture where virtually everything is video recorded; where the message is that it's more important to digitally capture what’s happening than to viscerally experience it. And, truth be told, if us fifty-somethings had access to smartphones when we were young, I’m sure we would have responded similarly. 

But at the same time, I know that we are missing something when, in the midst of the magic of music, we, by conditioned default, choose physical immobility over movement, focusing our attention on the recording of an experience rather than the living of it. When we choose the more primal choice of throwing our bodies and our hearts into an experience, we create opportunities to profoundly shift ourselves. When we instead placate ourselves and become little more than a glorified witness, we take ourselves one more step out of it, and lots of us are more than a few steps out of it even before we hit the “record” button, because we have become desensitized, guarded, and otherwise disconnected from our hearts, virtual strangers to our deeper selves.

I’m not admonishing or criticizing video recording. Personally, I love being in front of a camera, and I love capturing footage. I’m simply sharing an observation, opening a path, and questioning normalized behavior.

Maybe it’s a question of balance, of mindfulness, and of passion. Capture a little footage, but never forget that we’re here to throw ourselves - body, heart, and soul - into an event. Into Our Life. The phone as video recorder has become another distraction, maybe even an experiential replacement, for our minds; instead of being in our heads, per usual, we can be in our phones. Maybe that even offers some real time relief from being upstairs so much. 

I’m offering another way to live beyond being talking heads. Drop into your heart. Way down. Allow yourself to Feel The Music. Connect to a full body, full heart, full being response. Maybe you can do that while you’re recording, but the footage is gonna be damn shaky. Can you live with that? What’s more important? A stable recording, or having a booty-shaking-heart-quaking-physio-emotional experience?

Even though we drummers are sitting down, we move our bodies as much as or more than anyone else on stage. Maybe that’s one reason I am so physically and emotionally connected to music, why I can’t sit still when I hear a song I love. Maybe that’s why I often sing, regardless of where I am, when the music talks to me. I’m just talking back. I’m having a conversation with my lover. I’m making love, fully clothed, in my car, in CVS, wherever, with Mistress Music. 

And I don’t even have to change my underwear when I’m done.

 

©2018 Clint Piatelli, MuscleHeart LLC, and Red F Publishing. All rights reserved. 

Adventure Of A Lifetime

Ah, Music: Mystical. Evocative. Healing. Magical.

2017 was a motherfucker. In music therapy the other day, each of us had to chose a song that somehow symbolized the past year. We then went around the room, announced our very personal choice, and that song was played while we all listened to it. The person who chose the song then talked a little bit about what the song meant to them and why they chose it. The experience proved incredibly powerful and moving.

The choices were as varied as the people who chose them. Everything from "Float On" by Modest Mouse, to "So Far Away" by Staind, to "Change" by Tracy Chapman. And people chose them for different reasons. Some chose a song that represented the year as a whole. Some chose a song that defined their throes into addiction during a very rough period, while others chose music that has helped them move through their recovery. 

I thought long and hard about what song I would pick. There were so many. I had a laundry list that felt relevant and poignant. And I could have gone in a million different directions.  

I considered the song "Ship To Wreck" by Florence + The Machine, because it was a song that I answered with a vehement "No" as I listened to it on the night of my last birthday (see my post about it). I considered a song called "Wicked Soldier" by Tonic, an upbeat rocker that's on every workout playlist, because I felt like a soul warrior for most of the year, battling my inner demons. "Mean Street" by Van Halen, another all time favorite, also resonated with a resounding clang of the heart; for I had walked my own self induced Mean Street for enough of the year to know I do not wanna go back. I ping-ponged with these choices, until another song hit me between the eyes and felt like a hot needle in my heart. 

"Adventure Of A Lifetime", by Coldplay.

I haven't been able to listen to that song in almost half a year. That song was Our Song; Me and My Sweet Angel's. I had heard it for the first time just before we got together in April of 2016, and I immediately fell madly in love with it. It was instantly one of those precious and rare songs that strikes the harp of your heart and the cello of your soul, and you have no idea why, nor do you care; You just accept it as an is, and you roll with it. Our first weekend together, in New York City, we played the song together and realized we both loved it. We fell for that song about as quickly and powerfully as we fell for each other: Instant-Head-Over-Heels-Ass-Over-Tea-Kettle-Full-Blown-Double-Whooper-With- Extra-Cheese-Madly-In Love-With-Each-Other. Magic. Just like the song.

I played that song when we weren't together to remind me of her, and it usually turned on my water works. I even sent her a video of me listening to that song and balling like a baby to it. That song was her to me. That song was us to me. It will always be her to me. It will always be us to me. A marriage of physical and meta-physical  form that defies words or explanation. It just Is. It just as sure as fuckin' shit, IS.

Sitting in music therapy group at Zen Recovery the other day, surrounded by people I trust and love, going through so much of the same shit as I am, I felt to myself "This is the time to hear it again. This feels like the right moment. This is It." 

So on it came. And on I sobbed, in front of a tribe I have I have only known for less than three weeks. 

I didn't chose that song because I wanted it to mean something different. I chose it because I wanted the support to be able to listen to it, at all. I chose it because, in addition to it being Our Song, my life over the past year has been the Fuckin' Adventure Of A Lifetime. I've spent most of it in treatment, doing the hardest work I've ever done in my life. 

It will never replace the meaning it has always held. It will just add to it. David Lee Roth once said "Everything I do in life is 'in addition to', not 'instead of' ". I connected so strongly with that quote, that I have attempted to live my life along those lines whenever possible. 

I'm not going to to blasting that song anytime soon. I'm just grateful that I could find the love and support to listen to it, Period. I'm not looking to redefine it, because, I can't (nor do I want to), and that would dilute what that song means to me. I am, however, looking to recover, to heal, to connect more deeply to this tribe I'm with and to my process of recovery. Any and all means at my disposal are thus fodder for that healing, for that connection, and for my own growth.

Whatever the fuck I'm doing these days, and whatever the fuck I'm doing for the rest of my life, I'm moving. I'll keep moving. Sometimes, so subtly, that I can't even see it, that I can't even feel it. But that doesn't mean something isn't happening.

Like the rock that becomes a geode of glistening Amythyst; like the slab of limestone that becomes gorgeous marble; like the hunk of aluminum oxide that becomes a sapphire; and, just like it says in "Adventure Of A Lifetime", I'm a "diamond taking shape".

©2017 Clint Piatelli, MuscleHeart LLC, and Red F Publishing. All rights reserved.

Drums & Girls

Drums are the inanimate musical objectified manifestation of Girls. Because, how I feel and think about Drums, is pretty much how I feel and think about Girls. 

 Even the word "Girls", which I consciously chose over the word "Women", is beautiful to me. It speaks to an innocence and a purity of beauty that the word "Women" does not have. It has nothing to do with age. It has to do with a very personal and intimate literary and emotional charge. 

Drums and Girls: I love them both. Unconditionally. They speak to my heart. They ignite a passion and a fire and a wanderlust. They are both so fuckin' beautiful; powerful, magnificent creations that capture my imagination. They are both wonderfully complicated, and at the same time, incredibly simple. All you have to do, really, is Love Them With All Your Heart; With All You Have. Simple, but not easy. Just like a lot of life.

Drums and Girls are at once primitive, and of this age. Sexy as fuck. I am at once their equal, their master, and their slave. I walk beside them. I walk in front of them. I walk behind them. What's the fuckin' difference? Because, no matter where I walk, I am devoted to them; to their energy, to what they bring to this world, to what they bring to my life.

At about the same time that Girls became really important to me (around twelve), so did Drums. Drums provided a "Motherly" energy; a feminine, unconditionally loving, nurturing, caring, responsive, powerful sense of belonging; something that I never felt before I started playing. Drums gave me an emotional anchor, an emotional outlet, that saved my ass. That saved my life. 

 I was a pretty awkward adolescent. So I didn't have much play with the opposite sex. But, when I played Drums, I got a response. When I spoke to them, they listened. And they spoke back. I gave to them, and they gave to me. That dialogue changed my life. 

But there was more. It went beyond me and drums. It extended to the world at large. Other people, who heard and who saw me play drums, who heard, who saw, who experienced, my energetic cries of passion and fire and love; those people spoke back to me too. With smiles. With dance. With love. With something I never got from anybody else when I put myself out there. And so, I fell in love with Drums. The same way I fell in love with Girls. How couldn't I?

If you have ever seen me play drums, you know what an emotive maniac I am. I don't so much play the drums as I do make love to them; as I do make love with them. Which goes a long way in explaining the look of joy and ecstasy plastered on my face whenever I play. Especially at a gig with a band. 

As much as I love playing drums for the sake of playing drums, when I do it with a band, with other people, it ramps the whole paradigm up to another quantum level. To a level I can't get to by myself. Ultimately, I connect. 

Drumming with a band is like making love to Girl I'm in love with. 

Yup. Just like it in fact.

 ©2017 Clint Piatelli, MuscleHeart LLC, and Red F Publishing. All rights reserved.

Emotional GunSlinger

It's 2:49 AM, Pacific Standard Time. I'm in Scottsdale, Arizona. I'm awake because I want to be. Because I choose to be. Because of my burning desire to write. Not because I can't sleep. 

Writing often feels like drumming to me. Both are co-creations between, Me, You, and Source. The UnHoly Trinity. I play drums, I write, as a means to express myself. As a way to communicate. As a way to connect. To Myself. To You. To Spirit. When I drum and when I write, I let you see me. I open up and let you peek inside. When you watch me drum or read my words, you engage with me. Even if I can't see you. I can feel you. Like a circuit of High Voltage Energy, we give and take with each other, perpetually. Energetically. Spiritually. You participate in this dance. You are indispensable. 

Writing, and drumming, without sharing, has it's place. Honing skills in private allows us to develop the magical repertoire we need to shoot from the hip. And shooting from the hip is essential. There's thought to it, yes, but it's not about thought. It's about heart. I'm an Emotional GunSlinger. And, like a GunSlinger in the tradition of The American Western, we get it on from the inside out. We fire from the heart and go with our gut. 

I'm not much for small talk. I'd much rather know what we feel, what we think. I want to know what turns you on, what you love. Who you love. What excites us? What makes our blood boil? What ignites our passion and fires our intensity? What could we talk about all night, the next day, and into next week? What are we so curious about that we always want to know more?  

I get this trait from my dad. He hated small talk. Even if he just met you, if the conversation didn't evolve into something more interesting than the weather within fifteen minutes, he would get bored and disinterested. That doesn't mean you had to get heavy with him, but you had to get real. About something. Actually, if you love talking about, say the weather, that would work for him. If you are passionate about meteorology, he would pick up on that and jam with you. I'm a huge weather freak. Not the "What a nice day it is!" Kind, but the kind who's deeply fascinated by the science behind it. Like a kid who could spend the whole day playing with Legos, I'm insatiably interested and curious about the what, the why, of the weather. And lots of other things.

During treatment in transitional living, I had the opportunity to meet with the director of The Camden Center (the facility I was at), Dr. Jason Shiffman, twice. That's rare, because most clients don't get any one on one time with him. I had a situation that presented the chance to meet with him on two occasions, and we got on like a house on fire. His dog was with him the second time we met, and his dog's name is Io (pronounced "eye-oh). I recognized that name as one of the four Galilean moons of Jupiter, and we started riffing about astronomy. He asked me what I did, and I told him I was a drummer. Jason is a musician as well, and that lead to a long talk about drumming and the fact that he met Stewart Copeland, the drummer for The Police (and one of my biggest influences).

I told Jason that my friend, and former Genius Coach, Otto Siegel, once asked me, "Clint, do you know a lot about a little, or a little about a lot?". I immediately told him that "I know a lot about a lot". That's because of my passion and my curiosity. It drives me to dig deep, and it drives me to dig deep about what fascinates me. And a lot of shit fascinates me. So I'm driven by both depth and breadth. 

The point here is that because Jason and I got real with each other quickly, we connected right away. We were both passionate and fascinated by mutual subjects, and when we talked about them, our mutual fire burned hot and bright. The half hour we spent together was not only incredibly pleasant for both of us, but it went by in a heart beat. But, in that heartbeat, we felt each other. We saw each other. We got each other. And there is nothing more beautiful to me than that. 

One of the most painful consequences of opening up so that another can get you, and allowing yourself to get someone else, is, if that relationship ends, there is big sense of loss. The deeper you dive with another person, the closer you get. And the closer you get, the more connected you feel. So if that connection gets broken, for any reason, there is an energetic loss. There is now a hole inside of you that that person occupied. Sometimes, it's a big hole. Because that person meant the world to you.

I'm feeling that right now. About someone who I was going to share my life with. We were both Emotional Gunslingers with each other. I never felt so connected, to anyone, before. And she's gone. That hole is still there. It fills slowly.

I keep shooting from the hip. I keep laying it out there. It's how I roll. Roll with me. If you read me, stick around. I need you. 

©2017 Clint Piatelli, MuscleHeart LLC, and Red F Publishing. All rights reserved. 

Inner Music

All I need to do

is lose myself in music

and experience the world through her magic

when I make music the audio of my life's broadcast

life feels different

maybe it's an illusion

maybe it's bullshit

maybe its' not real

maybe it's all nothing but an

epic auditory delusion

I don't really care

because when I make life my own music video

nothing feels impossible 

everything feels doable

I experience all of my wrongs as just broken pieces of glass in a life size mosaic

my mistakes don't weigh me down

or hold me back

or daunt me as unforgivable

my music

insulates me

not from the world at large

but from the screech of the grindings of my own mind

for those few hours 

when I get to choose the soundtrack of my life

the shift I feel

is worth

whatever the delusions

 - Clint Piatelli

©2017 Clint Piatelli, MuscleHeart LLC, and Red F Publishing. All rights reserved.