1989 was a pivotal year for me: I had been DJing for a living for about six years and the lifestyle was killing my marriage, spirit and body - at 31 I felt and looked very old and worn out.
I had come to question whether rock 'n' roll - the music of youth - could sustain me into my 30s. My alcohol usage had benumbed me to the point I couldn't separate my own diminished passion for life, love and art from the sources that I looked to for inspiration. It hadn't occurred to me that the problem might be mine rather than the rest of the world's.
The more alcohol I swilled, the more youth and energy I peed away, while I congratulated myself on avoiding adulthood. All I really avoided was responsibility - avoidance of responsibility does not lead to youthfulness, it ages one most quickly of all.
I kept telling myself that I was a better DJ when I drank: I got into it more, I relaxed, I got wild. I also got sloppy, ruined equipment and said stupid things, but these were easy to ignore in the face of the bounteous benefits to be gleaned from the glass.
Finally, late in the summer of 1989, a confluence of marital and automotive/legal disasters grabbed me by the scrotum and squeezed hard. I was forced to reexamine my world view and the role of alcohol therein. Essentially I had two choices: dry or die. It really wasn't much of a choice, I didn't want to die.
Not that there aren't plenty who make the other choice, or who refuse to choose, which is the same thing. There are entire schools of gloomy romantics who see nobility in the latter decision: a consistency of action, a purity of purpose, an enaction of the nihilist credo, etc., but it all reeks of suicide. To the addict, the bottle in the mouth, the needle in the arm and the razor on the wrist are all the same thing.
To paraphrase John Donne: death be not proud, and suicide is the least prideful death of all. Suicide is taking your ball and going home before the game is over. Suicide is whiny and asymmetrical. Suicide is age reaching prematurely into youth.
Article comments
1 - Ed Driscoll
Eric,
Great post--it really brought me back to where I was when Steel Wheels first came out. It was definitely the last Stones album that I really cared about, although I guess I'm one of the few people to have enjoyed Undercover and Dirty Work--at least in spots.
I can't imagine buying a new album that uplifts me today, in the same way that albums in the past could. And I don't know who to blame: myself, for growing older and becoming a bit more cynical, or the music industry for turning out product instead of enjoyable music.
Probably a bit of both, I guess.
Ed
2 - Eric Olsen
Thanks Ed, I'm guess I'm in a reflective mood. I should add that I got over that period pretty quickly, especially after I moved back to Ohio and got back to DJing on the radio and out of the nightly live DJ routine. I feel much younger, more energetic, and more engaged with popular culture now than I did 14 years ago.
3 - Murphy Horner
Eric, I am much more familiar with John Donne than I am with the Stones and I love your post.
I have utter contempt for addicts, but huge respect for someone who can leave it behind and take life on with their own sensory receptors opened up to full.
I think the idea that people lose their edge because of age is 60s (don't trust anyone over 30) bullshit. Maturity brings a lot of advantages, if you stay engaged.
Of course, I just turned 30, so maybe you can't trust me.
4 - Eric Olsen
I trust you Murphy, thanks. I had to look up the Donne quote but I know the Stones by heart - we complement each other.
5 - Dawn
Brilliant!
6 - Eric Olsen
Acting! (thanks)