When I come around
Teachings from Billie Joe, Tré, and Mike
recently, a dear friend and I decided to kick off a weekly creative writing project where we take turns coming up with prompts and then give ourselves 30min to write. This is my entry from this week’s prompt: “Tell a story about a song or album that has meaning in your life.” I loved it so much that I decided to share it with you.
The fuzzy syncopated guitar that kicks off track 10 on Green Day’s album “Dookie” will be etched into my brain until the day I leave this earth.
Just reading the words “When I Come Around” snaps me back to a place in time that almost feels too good to be real. It’s quite possibly the opening scene to the movie of my life.
Those three open hi-hat hits would become the countdown to me starting the long and never-ending path of discovering who Caleb really is. There were many summer nights in the mid-90s after a long, sweaty day of little league baseball when we’d all crowd into Vancosta’s for piping hot pizzas and cold Sprite. Between bites we’d beg our parents for change to pick songs on the jukebox and inevitably, the opening guitar chop of “When I Come Around” would dutifully make its way into the rotation every couple of songs.
At the time, I didn’t really know any of the lyrics, other than the familiar chorus that drops at the end of that sweeping drum fill (which also happened to be the title). All I knew was how it made me feel. It was rock and roll. It was the future. Mike Dirnt’s bass climbed around the vocals, guitar, and drums like a monkey in a tree of ear-bleeding rock. It taught my head to move and my hands to air drum years before they ever held a drumstick. That song taught me about rhythm: drum fills moving around the kit, big hits on the “2 &” every other measure, and cymbals splashing all over the place like ice cubes dropping in a cup of sugary soda.
In less than three minutes, Green Day helped me build my own musical identity. I already had a deep appreciation of — and muscle memory for — the rock that my parents listened to, but this song, and eventually the album, gave me something of my own. Something that could start to form the foundation of the musical structure I’m still continuing to build to this day.
As I pulled apart “Dookie” further I developed my deep love of drum solos dominated by tom rolls and ride cymbal clangs that’ll bury themselves in your ear canal (see the bass guitar and drum breakdown in “Welcome to Paradise” or the intro to “Longview” to really feel what I’m talking about).
And then there’s “Basket Case.” To me, as a seven year old, the lyrics “I think I’m cracking up” probably just meant laughing, and I was doing a lot of that in those days. The subject matter of that song definitely went WAY over my head, but then again, I was ALSO asking the question, “do you have the time to listen to my whine?!” on a pretty regular basis.
A recent scroll through Green Day’s discography made me realize that I’m not aware of what they’ve been creating for the last 15 years, but that doesn’t diminish my love and appreciation for their impact on my musical upbringing.
Hearing the snare cracks of “Burnout” that open “Dookie” snap my ears to attention and spin me down a rabbit hole of mouth watering 90s rock and nostalgia. It’s like opening a faded, dog-eared textbook and refreshing myself on the roots of my musical education.
“When I Come Around,” and Dookie as a whole, is a musical defibrillator that kick-starts my heart and soul.
And now, I want to hear from you: tell me about a song or album that has meaning in your life.
And, a few other things to share:
my breathwork residency at The Class continues this Sunday (2/23) at 5pm. Join IRL in Tribeca if you’re in NYC or virtually via the Digital Studio.
I currently have two openings for private 1:1 or small group breathwork experiences. Send me a message to learn more :)
speaking of the 90s, I’ve been listening to this album a lot this week.
Thanks for reading and for being you.
love,
c