If you are not aware of the brothers Robinson, they are the founding members of my all time favorite band The Black Crowes. If you don’t know the Black Crowes, I highly suggest you give them a listen. They write and perform some of the most soulful music you will ever hear out of a couple of white boys from Georgia. The Crowes have been bonded to me throughout my life since the first time I heard “Hard to Handle” (actually a cover tune). I bought the tape immediately and wore it out. There is a song from their first album “Shake Your Money Maker” called “She Talks to Angels.” This song changed my life forever. Today it reminded me of several people that have passed away over the past year or more. They are all connected to this song in one way for another.
In 2017 I lost my dear friend since high school, Colleen. Just this past year I lost my friend Jared also since high school, my non biological father Mike, and just a couple days into what I was hoping would be a funeral free 2020, I lost another good friend since high school, Chris. I haven’t felt “over” or “moved along” for each loss and then the next comes out of nowhere. Music has always been the first thing I reach for in good times and bad either after or during prayer. God and I are quite on the outs lately, but I am working on it. I have been struggling to write in this blog for months if anyone noticed.
This past year also saw the deaths of my father-in-law and other friends’ parents. I just couldn’t bring myself to write anything. Usually writing helps, but I just didn’t want to ponder over all this grief whether mine or someone else’s. While at my housewife duties I was listening to my favorite Black Crowes album “Croweology.” It’s an all acoustic album of several of their greatest hits and some cover songs. It’s my number one album if I get real low or real high. I continue to get so much out of it no matter where I’m at in my head.
When “She Talks to Angels” started I began making noises that to some might sound like singing. I can’t carry a tune in a bucket, but I really like to pretend I can. When the mood hits and the blood alcohol level is right I might even sing in front of other people. Sometimes they let me and pretend they don’t want to scratch their ears out. It occurred to me that I have sang “She Talks to Angels” around or with Colleen, Jared, Mike, and Chris. Not only them, but my cousins Lauren her kids, and Gunnar. Also taken too young and too early from this world.
Many nights we sang the Crowes at my best friend Bryan’s house (Mike is Bryan’s actual dad) in the back room. Often doing our best to try and impress girls like Colleen and her friends “Pete,” and Theresa. Then later crooning to my soon-to-be wife and her friends. Chris was often there with us.
The Crowes were one of the few bands that Jared and I agreed were good. We would sit and sing in his basement usually after his big parties were over. I was privileged to be in the after party group of his friends where the chemicals kept flowing and our teenage or twenty something philosophies on the world conflicted or joined and we solved all the world’s problems. Come to think of it, Colleen and company were often there with us. Always music played in the background. “She Talks to Angels” was the only song Jared never told me to stop singing or make fun of me for attempting to sing.
If you know the lyrics you might be wondering how on earth a song about a girl addicted to heroin could be the anthem for someone as square as yours truly. Well that’s the beauty of any song. It is what you make it. A lot of songwriters will refuse to talk about what their songs mean, because they want the listener to make it their own. It’s pretty clear what this song is about. There aren’t any metaphors or hidden messages, it’s fairly straight forward.
Well I will try and explain, but for the most part I am not sure I can put it into words, other than it just comforts me. Especially the “Croweology” version. I don’t know who this girl was or if there even was a girl. If there was a girl I pray that she beat her addiction. I have seen all kinds of addiction up close personally and professionally. Too many heroin overdoses I do not care to think of ever.
However, the melody, tone, bass, acoustic guitars, easy drumming, and Chris Robinson’s heart breaking voice, just make me feel good as well as sad. It just depends on where I am at in my heart. Since 1990 it is still my go to song in times of any kind of trouble. Whether I was deployed, on the street, in a cubicle, on an airplane wherever whatever it’s my song. Some of my all-time favorite memories I pray I carry with me to the grave are hearing it live in concert.
I will say I have always strongly identified with the first verse;
“She never mentions the word addiction
In certain company.
Yes, she’ll tell you she’s an orphan
After you meet her family.”
I am no stranger to addiction. Not my own necessarily, but both sides of my family are chock full of addicts. I’m not going to publicly dime anyone out, but there is a lot of it. It runs stronger than the Force in the Skywalker family. With it brings all kinds of disorder, dysfunction, and destruction. To say things are “strained” between me and various members of my family is quite the understatement, but I’ll save all that for a book someday. Maybe. Anyway those first couple lines hit me like a sledgehammer the first time and every time I hear them. I think of excuses made, secrets hidden, behavior overlooked, the divorces, the rehabs, the heartbreaks, and the victories and recoveries.
Thinking I was just starting to come to terms with Mike’s death a few weeks ago, we lose Chris. The song started playing today and all these happy and sad memories came to me. Mostly I thought of being in that back room at the Humphreys when Mike wasn’t yelling at us to “Shut the Hell Up!” I felt as home there as anywhere else. Often for short periods of time it was home for me. I think I am going to have to write a separate blog for Mike. So I’ll stop that train of thought right there.
I’m fairly certain it was sung at least once or twice at my going away party for boot camp. Where Chris picked me up in the yard and declared to all of Ferguson, MO he would not let the Air Force take me away. We’d go on the run. Man I love that night and that guy. Colleen and the rest of the crew were there too.
Whether in that back room trying to look and sound cool for the ladies, or lost in the music by myself in the car or my room, around the fire with my cousins, Jared’s basement, or Chris’s van “She Talks to Angels” felt like being under a warm blanket I could enjoy by myself or with some company (get your mind out of the gutter). No matter what was going on with my parents, family, friends, jobs, kids, I could escape into Chris’s singing and Rich’s guitar playing. I just close my eyes and sing along to myself or out loud. I play it when I know I’ve been hanging onto something too long and need a good ugly cry, or to remember the people I’ve mentioned and the good times we had together and smile. The Crowes have that effect. They can make “A Cold Boy Smile” and get my “Soul Singing.” For real give these a listen. If you don’t get it, I am sorry. Like I feel sorry you have no soul. Just kidding, but maybe try again.
I cannot believe all these people are gone so young and so early. A friend told me recently that everyone loses people it’s part of life. Well of course I know that. I also know there are people out there who’ve lost more and are hurting more, but this is my blog and I am worn out from back to back to back sudden deaths and “Celebrations of Life,” Visitations, and funerals. Sick and tired of them. However, I am glad to have this band and this song to rely on whenever I need them. There is no device I own that doesn’t have at least two versions of the song.
So to Chris and Rich Robinson, I cannot say thank you enough for writing and performing a song that fits all my moods and truly can “bring a smile when the pain comes.”
Jacked Up Dad 