R.I.P. One great soul has just passed. And it's a fucking shitty-ass sad
time. It feels like someone socked me in the stomach. Here's something I
wrote that I'd like to share.
I once lived with Tom in 1996 and part of 1997 on the second floor of
Suburbia which at the time was a brand new punk venue and a rehearsal
spot in SE Portland. My girlfriend at the time had just completed
airline stewardess academy and moved on to Reno leaving me living alone
and Tom invited me to move in with him.
Soon, we started talking up the concept of the Submissives album. (the
one that is out on Honest Don's Records that hardly anybody knows about)
We started pitching song concepts and soon we were on our way to
building something. We were going fast, I was taking notes, working
thoughts into lyrics as Tom sat with his guitar trying various chord
progressions. One day that week, Tom got a $500 royalty check. Without a
blink Tom cruised to the record store and spent it all on Cds. Tom took
about three hours combing the whole store and mumbling about Stiff
Little MC5 Big Bill Motor somethings song parts that he'd being thinking
about lately. With those new cd's we spent the next 100 hours listening
to various songs, Tom would say "catch this part" and show me the part
of the song he thought was cool. He'd then spend some time first copying
the riff, Then slowly bastardizing it, playing it inside, out and upside
down then all over again and then move on. We did this for days, mostly
the next 6 weeks we worked together like it was the only thing that
counted. When I still had my own place, Id try to sneak off and go home
at say 4 in the morning. Tom would look at me with a puzzled face and
say, "your what"? And then I'd end up staying and staying and finally
end up sleeping on some pillows, in his eight by ten, one room
kitchen-less studio. Sometimes Id wake up and hed be playing away at
7:30 in the morning and it fucking inspired me. And it kicked my ass and
I'd get up with him and just keep going.
Soon it didnt matter if it was day or night. If you got the energy to
work, Just work. Poison Idea ripped for no small reason. They, for a
large period of time, had a band of overachieving musicians. They love
their instruments and worked hard on their craft and it shows. Tom
considered any piece of music he leaves behind the only thing anyone
will ever give a shit about in the long run and hes right. You artists,
musicians, and writers take it dead serious. What else are you fucking
doing with your life?
Well Tom is gone and it certainly does seem to be the end of an era. No
more Tom Pig Champion in the world. it's a fucking shitty-ass sad time.
Good fucking luck out there.