Tour is a lot of things. It’s a lot of driving, it’s a lot of not sleeping, and it’s a ton of pouring your heart out each night for people who may or may not actually give a shit.
Sometimes, we do this alone. It’s as heart-wrenching as it sounds…but sometimes, we’re lucky enough not to.
This was in March, and my mom (biologically my Grandmother) had died an hour after Thanksgiving ended a few months before this tour started. My voice is off because I didn’t hardly have anything in me and I was half-crying. I was going to back up Josh while he did a poem about losing his Grandmother on a webcast. This isn’t the song I planned on playing, this is the song that played me because it was the only one I could think of.
These are moments. We measure our life by them, then we forget them only to experience what they’ve left us with. Sometimes, they have a way of coming back to remind us they were there…and for that, and Josh, and Jesse and Chris and Ashley…I can only feel an immense sense of luck and appreciation that they would let me be there as we all did whatever the fuck it is that we do.
Cleveland does, indeed, rock.
rljd:
This song means a whole lot to me, its for my grandma who passed awhile ago.
Josh performed this during a webcast we did instead of a Cleveland show this spring, touring down to SXSW. He ordinarily doesn’t do it live, and I can see why - it’s heartbreaking, and a lot of that can be lost in the ambience of a bar. It’s hard to lay yourself bare in front of people who may be only half-listening, or looking for a punchline in everything.
I’m glad he posted this recording, though.