Scar Tissue

We get a rich tapestry illustrating this through Chili’s vocalist Anthony Keidis in his 2005 autobiography Scar Tissue. Co-written by veteran biographer Larry Sloman, the book traces Anthony’s life emerging from his parent’s fragmented marriage to success as a child actor into tumultuous years in the LA music scene.

There are never any hints that Anthony is fated for the big time with the RHCP. If you look carefully, it’s a telling more about the ephemeral nature of moments in life itself than someone charting the ever-cliched “meteoric rise to the top.”

As the Chili’s make their foothold into mass consciousness, Anthony experiences the highest of highs: an extravagant home, beautiful admirers and picturesque vacation spots. He also must contend with spiritual erosion from the toxic nature of the world itself.

Past the band’s antics, there’s something deeper at work here that resonates deeply: People (including myself) are sometimes quick to judge others. Do we look at ourselves with that same critical lens? Anthony rarely displaces blame elsewhere, although he has many sharp (accurate) observations about others.

Nowhere is this made more clear than the section telling us the story behind the classic Under the Bridge that originated from Keidis’s feeling of being distanced from his own band.

If Anthony Keidis teaches us anything, it’s that his truth is something internal. In the end, we don’t fully understand because he’s always holding that 25 percent back from the reader. The people who fully understand him are the ones who are (or were) already in his life.

In Scar Tissue, he’s given us something much more magical, a story that continues to create associations and memories long after the pages have stopped turning. He delivers essential truths.

Whether you’re reading the book or listening to the music, audiences can interpret the message for their own design.

 

 

Resonance

Sometimes a song catches us because we know how real it is. The Killers “Mr. Brightside” is one of those songs, and it has an interesting back story.

Says vocalist Brandon Flowers, “Lyrically, it’s about an odd girlfriend of mine. All the emotions in the song are real. When I was writing the lyrics, my wounds from it were still fresh. I am Mr. Brightside! But I think that’s the reason the song has persisted – because it’s real. People pick up on those things. And that goes all the way down to the production; we recorded it in a couple of hours, but it just sounds right, you know?”

Of course, the listener feels the emotional resonance. That’s what makes a hit. The artist can’t explain after the fact– the song has to speak for itself.

Back in the day, in high school music class, I noticed an interesting phenomenon: we learned to play instruments with high technical proficiency. But something was missing– there was no emotional attachment to the music. I can only speak for myself, but I never put my heart and soul into playing the notes; I just went through the motions because I was doing what I was told to do.

Creativity is such a personal journey. If you’re working to please the teacher and allow them to overlay their own concepts of good and bad onto you, you’re silencing a part of your own dynamic range. You’ll find a rebellious spirit in every emerging artist worth mentioning because they brought something different to the table.