When You Didn't Just Listen to the Music
I came across a video today of Mötley Crüe performing “Don’t Go Away Mad” at the MTV Video Music Awards on September 6, 1990, and suddenly I was back on a camping trip I hadn’t thought about in years.
I was sitting in the back of a pickup truck with my friend. Her boyfriend was driving, my boyfriend was in the passenger seat (the same man who would later become my husband) and we were headed to go camping in Hell, Michigan.
The music was turned up loud, the wind was blowing through our hair, and we were singing along to “Don’t Go Away Mad” like we didn’t have a care in the world.
And yes, back then you could actually ride in the back of a pickup truck.
One song brought that whole moment rushing back.
And it got me thinking about the era I was lucky enough to grow up in.
I was a teenager in the 1980s, right when metal, thrash, hair metal and glam exploded onto the scene.
Ozzy Osbourne. AC/DC. Van Halen. Mötley Crüe. Def Leppard. Metallica. Guns N’ Roses. Bon Jovi. Iron Maiden. Judas Priest. Poison. Ratt. Cinderella. Twisted Sister. Skid Row. Testament and so many others were taking over.
These weren’t just bands. They were part of our everyday lives.
We sat beside cassette players waiting to hit record the second our favorite song came on the radio, praying the DJ wouldn’t talk over it.
We hung out at record stores. We bought physical vinyl, records were the best.
Friday and Saturday nights meant roller skating with friends, while making sure we got home in time for Headbangers Ball on MTV.
And concerts were an adventure.
We’d stand in line for hours, usually overnight, with other rock fans waiting for tickets to go on sale at 10am. Sometimes those tickets were only $10.
Ten dollars to see your favorite band.
You’d stand there hoping you’d get the best seats, and when you finally had those tickets in your hand, it felt like you’d won the lottery.
There was an excitement surrounding music that is hard to explain now.
You couldn’t instantly stream an entire discography. You couldn’t pull out your phone and watch a concert from 1985. You couldn’t buy a ticket from your couch with a few taps.
If you wanted the music, you went looking for it. Something a lot of people don't bother doing now.
And when you finally got that album, cassette or concert ticket, it meant something.
That’s what makes the 80's so special to me.
You can discover the 80's today. You can listen to the music, watch the old videos, buy vintage records, wear the band shirts and fall in love with the bands we grew up with.
But you’ll never fully understand the 80's unless you lived them.
Being born in the 80's isn’t the same as being a teenager in the 80's.
And wearing an 80's band shirt today might be nostalgic for a new fan, but for those of us who were actually there, those shirts were a badge of honor.
You earned that shirt.
You might have stayed up all night in a line with hundreds of other fans, waiting for 10 a.m. to finally roll around so you could buy those concert tickets.
You waited.
You hoped.
You fought the exhaustion.
And when you finally walked away with that ticket and knew that you would being getting that band shirt, you weren’t just wearing merchandise.
You were wearing the memory of everything it took to get it.
That’s something you can’t recreate with a few clicks on a phone.
We watched these bands grow, watched MTV put them into our living rooms, and watched some of them go from clubs to arenas and eventually stadiums.
And somehow, those bands are still doing it.
Now, before anyone thinks I’m saying there isn’t great music today, let me make that clear: there are a lot of bands out today that I absolutely love. Some are huge, some are independent, and some are still grinding away trying to make their name. I support them all because I know how much passion, work and love goes into live music.
But there was something different about the bands of the 60's, 70's and 80's.
They became legends. They became timeless.
Their music became attached to our lives in a way that is hard to explain. Decades later, people are still buying tickets, filling arenas and stadiums, because they’re not just going to hear the songs. They’re reconnecting with the memories, the people, the places and the feelings attached to them.
And for me, music was never just something I listened to.
I always knew, even when I was a little girl, that music would always be a part of me.
By the time I was 13, I knew I wanted to be around live music for the rest of my life. I loved everything about it, the bands, the energy, the people, the lights, the sound, the excitement of a crowd and that feeling you get when the first note of a live show hits.
What I never dreamed was that I would actually become a part of it.
I went from being that teenage girl obsessed with music to becoming a DIY promoter, putting on concerts and creating opportunities for independent artists.
I went from standing in concert lines waiting for tickets to vendoring at Warped Tour.
From watching shows from the crowd to being side stage at national concerts.
From being a fan singing along in the audience to actually getting on stage and singing with Bret Michaels.
And then there are the musicians I grew up listening to and idolizing. People whose records I bought, whose posters I had on my walls, people I never imagined I’d actually know.
Some of them are now my friends. People I talk to on the regular. My crush on the bassist of Testament, well he became my best friend.
And then there’s Tom Zutaut.
The man who discovered and signed some of the bands I grew up loving, including Mötley Crüe, Guns N’ Roses, Tesla and so many more.
Today, I can actually have conversations with him.
This year, I even got to see Mötley Crüe with tickets Tom gave me.
If you could have told that girl sitting in the back of that pickup truck that one day her best friend would be the bassist she admired and had a crush on from Testament, that so many of the musicians she idolized would eventually become her friends, that she’d go from being a fan to putting on shows herself, standing side stage at national concerts, vendoring Warped Tour and even singing on stage with Bret Michaels and that one day she’d be having conversations with Tom Zutaut, the man behind some of the bands she was blaring that day…
She wouldn’t believe you.
Not for a second.
And yet, somehow, that’s my life.
Sometimes I stop and think about the path music has taken me on, and honestly, I’m still amazed.
That little girl who always knew music would be part of her never could have imagined that she would one day become part of the music world herself.
That’s why music isn’t just a passing interest for me.
Music is my life.
It always has been.
It has shaped so many of my memories, brought incredible people into my life, given me experiences I never dreamed I’d have, and somehow turned something I loved as a kid into a life I get to continue living.
And today, all it took was one Mötley Crüe video to remind me of where it all began.
The ’80s weren’t just a great time for music.
They were an incredible time to be alive.
And I will always be grateful that I didn’t just listen to the music.
I Lived It.
Peace, Love and Loud Music,
Mickey
The video that took me back
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