“That which does not kill us makes us stronger.”
The Bone Reader began in 2010 at a time when I was at home, as much as I could be, being with my wife and waiting for life to change with the birth of our son. However, my work and all of the responsibilities that came with it kept me on the road during these years. As it happened, TBR was born out there with me: In lonely hotel rooms, waiting for connecting flights in crowded airports and often with music as my best and only companion.
In many ways, it was a great time and with the help of others, TBR grew unexpectedly fast. Regrettably, my work was a cruel mistress and it began to consume me – mind, body and soul. I held the line for as long as I could. After so much hard work and the sweet taste of success, it was difficult to lay things down. Difficult to say the least.
Now more than ever, music is vital to lifting people up and holding us together. Metal goes further still by holding humanity to account by facing the darkness – and the light – that lies within all of us. Still, as much as we need music, now more than ever, music needs champions.
The people who make the choice to put their lives and their dreams into the van to tour and perform deserve it. The people who sacrifice their earnings or work a day job in order to run a record label or promote live music deserve it. The people who endure all of the shit that society slings their way in order to keep metal alive… We deserve champions, but as sadly, they are few and far between and it’s not an easy task.
The truth is that without champions, the future of music – and especially metal – is in a precarious place. Money is scarce and the predators are as hungry as ever. Our heroes have been touched and taken by the unyielding hand of time: Dave Brockie, Jonathan Athon, Frank Watkins, Philthy Animal Taylor and of course, Lemmy.
Over the past three years, I was forced to watch from the sidelines and it SUCKED. It was a particularly crushing blow when I learned that I had lost the original TBR website and all of the content that had been created as the result of a technological failure.
I had hoped to write these words countless times but for the undertow and the dark night of the soul, I could not.
After three long years of intense suffering, personal hardship and what seemed to be an unending journey through through the darkness, a spark has been lit and life begins anew.
As TBR emerges from the depths of oblivion, I’d like to say a word of thanks to those people who helped to make it what it was in the past: Jana Miller, Taylor Keahey, Hillarie Jason, Charles Douglas Hoffman, Gruesome Greg, Pavel Godfrey, Greg Christman … I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: My gratitude springs eternal.
It’s going to be ugly for awhile. I’m re-building the website from the ground up and it’s very much a work in progress. I’m not sure what the future holds for TBR. Nothing lasts forever but today is a new beginning. So, it is with pride and humility in equal measure that I can finally say these words:
The Bone Reader is back.
Horns up, motherfuckers – and let the battle rage once again.
“I remained, lost in oblivion;
My face I reclined on the Beloved.
All ceased and I abandoned myself,
Leaving my cares forgotten among the bones.”