Went to a gay liberation day parade today-- the first time I've ever been to one, actually, somehow. It was in June, my time off was in June, and I've been pressured more and more to be something I'm not that something in me decided to get a bit rebellious and do something risky and unscripted, unplanned. I didn't dress up all that much for it but I didn't try to look much different from myself either beyond shaving my sideburns off, wearing my hair up, leaving my nose ring out, puttin' on some shades. Went with Dave Enrique and Tommy, marched in the damn thing with 'em! It was so crowded, tho, even the parade itself, not just the sidelines, and I was dead center, surrounded by signs and floats and things. A couple people may have recognized me, but they just gave quiet excited little waves, no cameras flashing in my face, no running up to me, nothing like that (being with friends helped the nerves around that, too).
If it DOES get out that I was doing this, I'll just say I have gay friends and I love them and support them, that they deserve rights the same as anyone else, that there was already one civil rights movement and it's high time for another, Reagan or not-- all of that is still true. If that blackballs me in the industry the way that being outed or openly gay would, then so be it-- it's still less dangerous for the rest of my life than being outed with someone would be (or, at least, this would be the least humiliating way to get outed that I can think of). I was happy, dammit. Happy and free. I could slip the fucking leash for a day. I need times like this, I need to remember what true happiness and freedom feel like so I know what I'm striving for, what I'm living for.
I was able to help Jeff write lyrics with something like this in mind on the new record, at least. Very general again, just a "misfit in a small town escaping and finding freedom and himself in the city" sort of thing-- enough that Jeff could relate and contribute easily to it; he also roughed it in LA awhile trying to find a band that'd have him. But it's enough that performing it and seeing other people enjoy it brings me gratitude, a quieter feeling of joyful rebellion. I feel for a moment that I can be understood by them, like I can sing their understanding into being, if only for the five to six minutes of that song's runtime.
Interviews and other press things have been grating on me this time around. SO much gushing about Jeff, and I know it makes sense to promote the new guy, I get it, but at the same time UGH he does this stupid fucking golly-gee-wiz aw-shucks act about it all, holds himself almost like a shy schoolboy, and it makes me want to kick out his chair. And it's been so awful having to treat Greg like he was some obsolete part that had to be replaced; he did SO much for us, contributed so much, but this one album's selling better initially than the others did so ~clearly~ that means something was wrong with him, wrong with us and what we did together. They think in terms of dollars and cents because that's the way the industry thinks, so I speak their language when I have to. I've brought up that the rest of the albums with Greg and I on them have gone platinum in their own time, that what we have now isn't necessarily *better*, just different. That Jeff's a fine songwriter, but at the same time, audiences are simply catching up with us and what we've been doing for the past few years.
THE WORST is when they bring up Jeff's song. Crediting him alone for it would be something I would've been thankful for earlier, but really, it wouldn't have gotten to its finished state without me. I had to drag his cowardly ass down the road every step of the fucking way and watch him laugh at me for the trouble, isn't that worth something? Ugh. I know I need to get better at playing nice with Jeffrey, though. Sometimes I think I'm not even being too bitchy, but Nate or Rory or Sam'll come up to me later and say some equivalent of "what the hell was that for?" Nate especially has been trying to smooth things over between us. "Look, man, I know you miss Greg. We ALL miss Greg. But he WANTED to leave, and you're not giving Jeff much of a chance--" I gave him PLENTY of fucking chances. "Jesus, dude, is this still about that song?? It was mostly me being an asshole, Raj, don't throw him under the bus 'cause of me." I didn't quite want things to turn into a real argument, even though I still have a bone to pick with Nate eventually about all the solo work he alone is apparently privileged to do, so I conceded things there. Now, how am I supposed to pretend Jeff doesn't get right under my skin... I'll need to figure something out. I will. In the meantime, though, I think I've gotten through to Jeffrey in some ways already. I guess the real test is seeing whether he'll still speak out the side of his mouth to press people when I'm not around.
Second leg of tour-- in Japan now, with a little cold. Ugh, I always fucking get colds on these long plane trips. I'm also always able to manage, but I still worry each time regardless. I have to push my voice more, I have to become accustomed to temporary limitations, I have to not let my frustrations get the better of me, I have to not think about the possibility of temporary limitations becoming or leading to permanent ones.
One good thing, and one reason I'm always thankful for Europe and Japan dates despite the little colds-- I can be a bit less careful with myself here. Bring a little more swish in my step, add a little extra suggestion in what I do or what I sing, and not worry about it. With that said, we have a little vocal/guitar intro to one of our more minor key songs that I've always sung a bit sad, a bit mysterious, straddling the line between melancholy and seduction. A lost love, or being on the precipice of giving into a deliciously-bad idea. Jeff's added a keyboard bit to it-- a droning buzz-- and it brings out the haunting sadness in it so much more. So in rehearsals, I adlibbed a little story around it. Well, more than just a story-- a snapshot. I remember thinking about how difficult it can be for me to sing anything specifically about what I feel or what I've gone through. I challenged myself here a bit, because the snapshot is a memory of Rick and I's last day together, marred by the knowledge of what comes next, the dread, the inevitability, not being able to stop any of it.
I told Nate-- play like the person you love most suddenly died, you have no one or no where to turn to that could comfort you and can't expect it, and you have to find a way to go on anyway. Not too dramatic, not too loud-- you can't be too dramatic, you can't be too loud-- a quiet trembling simmering. A deep pain buried in numbness. Jeff looked into my eyes with a question, but I didn't answer it the way he wanted. They started playing and I fumbled my way through the darkness until I found a way to sing about Rick and I walking together on that empty beach, him taking my hand, how electric it felt despite being so small-- or rather, something that would've been a lot smaller if one of us was a woman[33]; something that should be small but could've gotten us arrested or beaten or killed if the beach was less empty than we'd thought. The love we felt for each other cutting through all that fear. Both of us so excited for our future. How much time we thought we still had to create things with each other. Love was alive, until it wasn't. At the end of it all Nate did this whammy bar divebomb sort of thing but quietier, a lower pitched feedback-filled dissonance that swelled and died out. A distant explosion. G-d he always gets me on things like this. I wish that could extend beyond music, but I'm still so thankful for it.
Anyway. We played our first night in Tokyo with that little introduction included. It was difficult to do and I'm not sure how much closure it provided, I don't know how often I’d like to include that in the set, but I think it was worth it to try anyway. I've often tried to sing our most beautiful songs up to Rick, to offer them to him-- but never the pain. I didn't want him to have to deal with it, just like I never wanted him to have to deal with it when I was alive. At some points it was unavoidable, which filled me with shame, yet he stayed anyway, comforted me without any resentment or anger or (too much) frustration[34]. Maybe I needed that sort of feeling again: to express a pain without guilt-- a pain I held silently in my heart for four years-- and be comforted.
PS: Now that I think of it, the sort of relationship Ricky and I had-- of creating together, of working together, of bringing out the best in one another-- is still the ideal for me. Benny isn't a musician, so it's different, but we're still doing all of that through all our work with the crew, and it's just as incredible a feeling.
[lil author's note: [this is inspired by the really fucking sad live performances of the wheel in the sky intro in '81 but *also* the story of funkadelic maggotbrain]
Second night in Tokyo and FINALLY got my chance to have some fun with a lovely Japanese gentleman! Still slightly under the weather, but better than I was the day before. ~Yoshi-san~, I was to call him, and so I did. I still honestly don't know much of the language, but he had a decent handle on English, so it worked out well enough that we could make each other feel real nice. Cute, stocky, nice belly, hairier than I expected (is it bad to have assumed? his forearms were SO hot because of it tho, with the nice watch too, MMMm), mustache n' close-cut hair-do. A little grey peppered through both. SUCH a daddy look UGH it killed me.
Japan can be even more awful about gay sex/"activity" than some places in America (some in America I'd say are still worse or equivalent), so I made sure to be as careful as I could with him, but he didn't seem too bothered. And even with the language barrier, we both figured out pretty well what we wanted from each other (certainly not a time I resented bottoming; it was SO good and either way even seeing him the first time-- those thick forearms and hands-- made me very much want him that way). We had some sake after round one and WOW that stuff packs a punch. It made round two happen, though, 'cause I couldn't stop flirting n' kissing him. It took a little extra time for him to get hard again, but he sucked me so nice in the meantime, and once he was ready he fucked me even harder than he had the first time; UGH it was fantastic. AWFUL hangover though. But the sex was SO good... hmmm. A fair trade? Perhaps!
I love Benny but he said himself he didn't want us to be fully "official". --Ugh, it's hard. I feel a small twinge of guilt after flings like this anyway. It's silly in a way, like, I'm not going to get into a serious romantic affair with Yoshi-san from who-knows-where in Japan. --But it's a little like when I was interested in Ricky-- not even with him yet!-- and doing anything beyond hand jobs with anyone felt wrong. And Ben and I are in that strange middle space where it's obvious we both care about each other, like to be around each other, regularly (as we can) have sex with each other. And also: work with each other, make each other better in our own ways. I admit I am a bit frustrated with the situation-- I'd be all his if he told me to be and part of me wants him to. Like, everyone in the know already figures we're officially together anyway.
G-d, I just want someone who wants to be wanted. I thought Benny did, and in some ways he's obviously far more comfortable with me than Greg ever was, but love still seems to be too big a step to take. At the same time, it does make me feel clingy. It's likely how it comes off. But no one knows the half of it. I can't even think about love too deeply before running into the realization of how starving I am for it. Being around Ben is such a wonderful, paradoxical combination of soothing and exhilarating, and that's often enough, but when I'm alone I remember how floaty and ambiguous it all is and it gnaws at my gut. I know it shouldn't matter right now. I still have so much to do with him and for him. I suppose it's better to let it out now and make all that easier than truly becoming resentful.
Got vindication and validation over Jeff's damn song! We hadn't played it at all 'til today, and I told everybody that I'd like to. Jeff was all for it of course, and the others were varying levels of agreeable, and then there was Nate. Him being the odd one out made him fold, but he wasn't happy about it. I was nervous going into it on stage, worried that it would flop and be seen the way Nate sees it, but then I thought about how great it was that Nate had to play it in the first place, that I had to sing that stupid jailbait song multiple times last year so fuck you, you can suck it up and play some Julie Andrews with Julie Andrews (one of the things he called me during that stretch of recording). The spite was the initial spark I needed to shed all nerves and sing my damn heart out and-- whaddya know?? The place EXPLODED at the end of it! Nate turned to me after the show, when we could hear each other, and said "...I guess that song isn't so bad." I wanted to say FUCK YOU NATHAN or sock him one-- I could feel the anger begin to boil up from my chest again-- but the applause in the background soothed me just enough so I could simply say: yes! You're welcome!! He's spent a lot more time trying to kiss up n' play nice with me since. I'm humoring it.
I don't think I'll ever tell Benny this, but even tho spite was the initial thing to get me singing Jeff's song well, the thing that carried it home was singing it to him (as in Benny, of course) in my heart. Really, a lot of our love songs are like that now-- I said I'd be singing them for him in the future and that's what I've been doing now that the future's present. I've heard playback of some of them and G-d they're better performances than the recorded ones by far. It really takes things to a whole 'nother level for me. And it's such a good place to put my frustrations-- things I can't say to his face but things I can sing out in various ways.
An interesting, pleasing thought-- any time Jeff writes a love song for Teri, if I sing it, it becomes a love song for Ben. And Jeff can't do anything about it. How impotent it must feel to not be able to sing your own love songs! Poor thing.
[33]Though even in that case, just a little over a decade before and we could’ve gotten arrested just because Rick was black.
[34]Disappointment? Sadness? Yes, and those still crushed me, but always made me want to do better by him. And I think I did, as well as I could, ‘til the end.