 Flyer stolen from Facebook somewhere... It was like the most surreal moment from a past life brought back into existence for another chance to appreciate and cherish it. It really fucking was.
Going back to YGM headquarters for practice, back to the house / garage where it all started, where so music and so many memories were born and spawned from, was a trip, to say the least. And being in the same room with Ena / Tami and running through "those old songs" made my chest swell and my brain hurt. Seeing all the old friends / family members that came out, just to watch us rehearse, just to relive a moment, a feeling from their youth, was life affirming. Youth Gone Mad was back and loud and in effect, and I for one couldn't be happier. We practiced our collective butts off for months, with me driving out every weekend just to practice with them, even writing a few new songs to debut / play at the gig, and it was nothing but Love and Positive feelings in every direction and way possible. It felt right. It was right. People were hyped that YGM were playing gigs again. They were looking forward to seeing us play, just like they did back in the day. Shit, we better be good. People were depending on us to be. Yipes!! The gigs themselves were almost anti-climactic. We had a string of them lined up to play, but thanks to the flakiness and inability of Promoters in CA to follow up / keep their word, we only ended up playing one gig Sat. night in downtown L.A., which suited me fine. I love L.A., just hate driving around there now. There was even more of an old friends turnout at this gig, and more than a few "this is unbelievable - I can't believe this is happening" moments were shared, with lots of ghost from the past making their presence and love known and their laughter heard. This is the shit I live for. Playing gigs is just the means to the end. The show was great. Everyone had a smile on their face, and at the end of the night, no one wanted to leave, no one wanted the night to end, but it had to. It wasn't like the old days where we would of all went to Oki Dog to figure out what to do and then all chipped in what little money we had and bought drugs and booze and headed up to Errol Flynn's abandoned haunted house on the hill to run around and chill and watch the sun come up - we're older and better than that now, but the feeling was there, of camaraderie, of being with family, and if anything, thankfulness, that we were all here, back on our old stomping grounds of L.A., and that we had lived to tell the tales and share the memories when so many of our friends and family didn't get the chance to do so. For them, for us, for me, it was a night I'll never forget, but for everybody else, it was just another gig. Make the most of what you got and what you're given. Life's too short. Much too short...
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