It's days like these that keep me on my winning streak...

(Proving rock n' roll ain't dead...)

I mentioned Butch Walker a couple of posts back, regarding his tour dates with Ryan Adams. He's been one of my favorite artists for about 6 years now, but much like old friends, sometimes you lose touch for awhile. I'll be honest, I haven't really listened to him as much as I used to, and I completely whiffed on listening to his last album, I Liked It Better When You Had No Heart.

Beth and I have been stuck in the house all day studying for upcoming exams and whatnot, and during my study breaks, I like to unwind by listening to music. I probably use Spotify a little more than I should, but it's a quick and easy way for me to listen to a variety of stuff. I decided to give Butch's last album, The Spade, a shot.

Damn you, Bradley Glenn Walker.

So, about an hour after listening to the album instead of studying, I realized a few things.
1) This shit is awesome.
2) It'd been too long since I'd listened to some Butch.
3) I shouldn't really expect anything else.
4) I literally would've sold a kidney to be able to have been at the aforementioned show with Butch opening for Ryan Adams.

(because this is America.)

I have a hell of a lot of good and bad memories associated with his music, and I think that's what makes an artist great, at least in my opinion. Butch Walker's been the soundtrack to some of the most amazingly happy moments of my life, as well as some of the deepest, darkest, and most miserable. His music brings back memories of seeing him live in ATL after being awake for almost 30 hours straight, and basically hallucinating while driving the whole way down I-16 at 3 a.m. because I was so tired. Thank God for crappy Steak n' Shake coffee. I remember when he played Tiny Dancer in Athens, and Beth's feet hurt so bad we had to sit on some steps in the back of the 40 Watt with some friendly hipster folks; Mike lost needed his inhaler while sleeping on the floor; Walt ended up at a sorority house, and Beth, Mike and I all had a lovely 2 a.m. meal at IHOP on Epps Bridge. A confession - I did that all while wearing girl's jeans. Not on purpose, and I swear it's not as bad as it sounds...uh....but it's true.
I remember crazy nights in the 'boro staying up way too late, drinking way too much, wearing way too much plaid, and watching way too many Youtube videos and DVDs. I remember when Beth gave me a copy of Letters when I was still up in Hyde Park, and how it felt like I was literally the happiest I had ever been.  I remember figuring out the difference between going back, and going home.

(Yup.)

I also remember spending gut-wrenching winter nights with too many bottles of red wine, a few too many sleeping pills, and listening to Best Thing You Never Had on a continuous loop until I fell asleep. I remember dying inside listening to Passed Your Place, and sitting in my car for like 10 hours listening to it continuously, after the night I thought I'd seen the one person I love most walk out my life for good. I remember figuring out how it felt to have my heart shattered like romantic roadkill.

(and yup...)

I guess the reason I bring all these personal experiences up is because I realized that Butch's music has been the soundtrack to so many of the most significant moments in my life, it's crazy to me to think that I've just ignored a significant part of my life for such a long time. Which I feel is how I've been with a lot of aspects of my life as of late. I feel like I've been a shitty friend to some that've been nothing but good to me. Why do I always just let things that were once so important to me just drift out of my life? It's honestly not because my feelings have changed. Is it because I have? I know that lately, with changing schools, and basically hanging up the knife bag for good, I've personally struggled tremendously with if this is what I want to do with my life, and if I'l have any regrets about it. I have felt for sometime that although this may be the "right" thing to do, it's never felt that way to me. But I keep telling myself that things that are worthwhile will always be difficult. I remember how much I changed from the beginning of culinary school, to the person I became by the end. Maybe I really have changed more than I know.

Have I changed that much? Or did I try to be something I'm not? Maybe. Maybe we're all like an artist that struggles to not do too much of the same, but not change so much that they lose the core of who they are.

It's so  hard to constantly re-invent yourself. It's so hard to always stay the same.

Right now, I still feel like I'm somewhere in between...

but until I figure out who I'm supposed to be, chances are they'll be some Butch on in the background.