I thought I knew everything when I was 18. Turns out I know even less at 50.
This is a song I wrote about being thrown into adulthood ( “18” ) and everyone expecting you to do the right thing, but you’re really still just a kid.
Ash and I joined a couple of friends to see “Brit Floyd”, a Pink Floyd cover band at SDSU. They were absolutely amazing.
One of my favorite albums of all time is their “Pulse” album ( 1994 ), a live recording from one of their concerts. It was unique in that they decided to mount a pulsing red LED in the case. That light blinked throughout my 4ish years of college and got a lot of play time.
It’s been a while since I shared a song. This one is called “Peace”.
I posted the video on Facebook and Instagram first. My Mom asked me, “[Do] you really feel like you’re losing control?”
The thing about “being from the 1900’s” ( hah, hah ) is that I have 50 years of anxieties and trauma to pick from. Although my days of teenage angst, rebellion, and that weird reoccurring nightmare of not being able to find my classes are far behind me, I can still draw from those experiences.
This song is actually about sitting in the computer lab at UCSD, confused, frustrated, and pounding my fist in anger while everyone else seemingly just “got” it. I never felt like I belonged there and ended up dropping out after a couple of years.
So, there it is.
I probably shouldn’t have shared that.
Just like one should never have explain the punchline of a joke, songs ( I feel ) should be left up to interpretation. You might get something entirely different out of it if I never explained the premise – even though I wrote and sang it. That’s art I guess….
Now it’s your turn.
Live life. Stay healthy. Go make some art.
-Scotti
P.S. I did eventually graduate – just not from UCSD. It took a transfer to USD and the help of some really good friends.
Damn! Missed my self-imposed “Hump”-day comic deadline. I’ve been busy working on a new song, a Rubber Band Flyer, covers, and ….. BOOM … picking up the family at the border after a weeklong jaunt in Cabo.
I’ll give you one guess where we stopped off immediately after crossing the border – and it ain’t McDonalds.