I can't stop thinking about Brad Delp lately. I've been listening to a lot of Boston. I think about rock and rollers such as he, growing old. The fleeting nature of fame and notoreity and how it has passed them by. But mostly I think about how he killed himself - carbon monoxide poisoning from the two charcoal grills he had placed in the bathtub.
When I heard this it made me inexplicably sad. Just the sound of his voice transports me back to my childhood. It's so epic and large, it's almost otherworldly. I suppose I say it like this because I was reared on classic rock. By the time I had learned to spin records, I had no choice but to listen to my mother's laughably small record collection, mostly consisting of Boston, Styx, Ted Nugent, Heart, Van Halen and so on. My favorite being The Nuge. (Yes, I still enjoy the music of said Republican Fuck, but after seeing my childhood rock hero play a couple summers ago, I wouldn't be as upset if he gassed himself.)
I don't know what this blog post is all about. I think I have been meaning to write the "Sad About Brad Delp Dying" post for a week now, I've just been a little embarassed to put it out there. My regular, non-embarassing blogging will commence very soon...