I want to go back to 2011
In memory of my darling friend and bandmate Josh
I’m really not sure what else to say. I didn’t know I could feel this bad. I’ve never lost a close friend before. I’ve never lost touch with a friend then lost them completely, forever. Well, I guess it’s really not forever, because he lives in my memories, but I don’t really even have a proper way to say goodbye because he is in Colorado and I am trapped in the middle of an intensive coding bootcamp that is the single most important thing I will do in my career, and can’t afford to travel. So I guess that’s kind of how life goes sometimes. It sucks balls.
Because the tears won’t stop and I need a way to remember him, I went back to 2011 to find photos of us, building our band together. Or just being a bunch of silly young adult transplants, exploring Salt Lake City.
Josh was so much more mature than I was, calm and unafraid of the world. He was this cool, hippie sort of dude from Denver with tattoos and long hair, a former Mormon missionary to Japan with some kind of a degree in music. We met on a dating website — he apologized for not meeting my height requirement and I apologized that he didn’t meet it— but we both loved Japan and music so decided to become friends instead.
I used to play solo gigs on my acoustic guitar at cafe’s in SLC, and Josh used to come and support me. He told me one day that he had booked a gig at Bar Deluxe, and wondered if I would be interested in playing there with him as my guitar backup.
I was unafraid of the world in a stupid adventurous sort of way, so we were perfect for each other. Josh wanted to start a new project, I wanted to learn how to play music with others, so we found other musicians and embarked on a new journey together.
Josh had discovered a few years back that he had a problem with his liver. I don’t remember what exactly it is that he had, but he had to watch what he ate, couldn’t drink alcohol, and had to battle his energy all the time. It was hard to tell that he was sick because whenever I saw him, he was a ball of energy and happiness.
Before I met Josh, I had only played an acoustic guitar, by ear. I had also only played jazz-y music, without really understanding how scales worked on the guitar — I even once described a chord I was playing as “B#” (yes, I meant C) — so he basically taught me about scales, specifically the blues scale, how to plug my electric guitar in, how to use pedals etc. I wouldn’t have even discovered my love for rock’n’roll if it weren’t for Josh.
Josh was right beside me, through all the drama of getting a new band/project up-and-running, including going through a dozen drummers in a year’s time (my favorite ones are in the pics following ;)
One of the things I loved about Josh is that we could just hang — just the two of us. We could go eat ramen, post flyers, go checkout shows or just jam at my house then talk for hours, late into the night, about everything from religion, politics, music theory, food…. Josh had a way of eloquently, diplomatically and thoughtfully sharing his opinions on everything. I think that is what I loved about Josh. We could banter and he would never be rude, just the way I like it in coversation. He was the kind of guy I could bring with me, anywhere, and no doubt my #1 choice when it came to calling someone up when there was something fun or cool to do.
Josh and I went on adventures no doubt.
Josh really was up for anything.
This happened after we had gone to a BBQ and stopped by Kaci’s house on the way home to say hi to our friends. Josh wouldn’t leave a damsel in distress, distressed.
We also went to concerts / shows in alleyways.
We also went to a lot of shows and lots of socializing ☺
In our first year as Lady Murasaki, we played 25 shows. That’s an average of 2 shows+ a month, but some months we played up to 5 shows. Yeah, I know, in SLC nonetheless. I know Josh loved it though. He loved that we were playing music, all the time.
Btw I failed to mention that Josh had great style. He always looked so cool, wearing black. He would even wear eyeliner sometimes, which I thought was the coolest fucking thing I ever saw on a guy.
I am really having a hard time accepting that he is gone, but he was really suffering from his illness towards the end. It breaks my heart to have to admit that I lost touch with him over the last year before he passed, because my life can be so fucking drama sometimes — but my friends who had a chance to see him more recently said he wasn’t doing well at all. I didn’t know about the gravity of his state till 2 weeks before he passed. I attempted to get in touch with him but he must have been in terrible shape to not be able to respond.
So this is all I can do Josh. Write up a little thing about how much I love and miss you. I really hope that you knew, and know, that you had changed my life in a more significant way than anyone else had, ever. I didn’t know the joy of playing music with others or playing on a stage or the catharsis I feel when I stomp on my distortion pedal and crank up the volume on my amp, until you showed me how to. I didn’t know I loved blues or rock until you set me on the right path. But mostly, I miss you. I imagine this is how Forrest felt when his mama passed or Jenny did. It fucking hurts.
I don’t believe in heaven or God the way religions do, but I hope that wherever you are, you’re feeling a whole a lot better, that you’re getting a chance to eat all the Japanese food you want and play music everyday, all day. I wish I could go back to 2011 and live it all up again but I guess instead I’ll see you wherever you are, probably in like 50 years.
Naked Truth was Josh’s favorite track on the EP that we recorded — the soft ringing guitar on the upper range and the beautiful guitar solos you hear throughout the song showcases how amazing Josh was on his guitar. He loved effects. ☺
http://ladymurasaki.bandcamp.com/track/naked-truth
