Detroit Rock City by Steve Miller. It’s a book I mentioned in an earlier post. You can read more about it here. But you don’t need to know anything specific about the book in order to appreciate this. Simply check out the excerpt below. It’s some random Motor City rock fan talking about one of his buddies back in the 1970s. Apparently this friend was crazy into Black Sabbath.
"This dude was a trip. He was permanently stoned and drove around in one of those ’70s custom vans with the shag carpeting. His 8-Track collection consisted exclusively of the first several Sabbath albums. He’d just rotate them day-in and day-out and drive around blaring them as loud as possible for the populous to hear, whether they liked it or not. He lived in his parents’ basement. The floor was painted black with a huge silver cross in the middle. His famous line to me was, "One of the reasons I love Sabbath so much is that they’re so scientific!"
A-MAZ-ING. The money punch for me is definitely the parents’ basement line. But honestly, it’s not just the hilarity-factor that makes me love this so much. More so, I find it really endearing. It’s as glorious as it is sad. There’s true beauty underneath the warped absurdity of this dude’s monomaniacal preoccupation with Sabbath. I mean, this is what it’s all about. This is what it means to be a true fan. And I think this is the reason rock and roll has endured and thrived for as long as it has. The bands and musicians… they come and go. They burnout. They fade away. They lose their minds. They overdose and die. But the music lives on because of the insanely devoted and dedicated fans. They’re about loyalty. And commitment. And swearing allegiance to a cause. And most importantly, they’re living each day with burning passion and purpose. And, for me, there’s nothing more beautiful in life than that. Even if you’re doing it in your parents’ basement. Rock and roll. Forever.
Finished with my woman ‘cause she
Couldn’t help me with my mind…