But first, some beautiful words on what its all about

Almost from the very beginning of our band, Lane Campbell was there. He and his brother, Chris, I remember them. Apart sometimes but often together. Two brothers clocking two brothers on a Friday night under some big city indoor cloud of cigarette smoke. Marah gigs back then were, I hope, important places to be for a small group of people. 

Our lives intersected because of music. But also because of a kind of shared sidewalk upon which I believe we all stood upon. We were mostly young (20s/30s) and were mostly decent down to our bones. We were people who wanted to be with other people. Yeah, to get drunk with and to sing along with, but there was also more to it than that. 

We gathered, I know now, to better understand the meaning of it all. This life. The chaotic madness. The unrelenting uncertainty. The simple fact that we hoped- some night- to lock eyes with the truth. Whatever form it might take. However the hell it might choose to bash into us. Maybe in the first feedbacking sparks of the opening band's opening song. Maybe in the writing on the wall in the pisser. 

Word comes now that Lane, who really walked the walk when it came to loving music...to being out there in the night as opposed to thinking about it…word comes down now that he is gone. After being reported missing, he has been found. And yet he's gone in the way that meant so fucking much to so many people who cared about him and loved him. 

Me and Lane were just about the same age. And I remember him pretty vividly as a guy who loved to talk about the music he was passionate about. I do that too. Just ask my wife about some of my Friday night red wine George Thorogood Ted Talks. They were hazy nights at best back then, but Lane was almost always there for so much of it. And I can tell you this: when you are a young band/a new band and you begin to recognize certain faces and those faces belong to people who eventually reveal themselves to be wildly bright and curious and interested in what you're doing/the art you are at least attempting: that shit means absolutely everything. 

Lane Campbell was one of the earliest supporters like that for our band. And I'll always be grateful to him and his brother and god knows how many other people they convinced to tag along with them to come see us. 

It has become evident these last few weeks that a lot of the people who headed out to a lot of rock & roll shows over the past couple decades weren't just going out into the cold whirlwind of some big city Friday night to see a band they loved or were hoping to love. They were also going out to see Lane.