Feed Your Curiosity: My Effin' Life by Geddy Lee

For the briefest of moments, I was in a band.

If I close my eyes, I can return to the room where I worked on bass tracks for an already-recorded album. I was young and thought I knew everything, like we all do then. Curiosity was barely a glimmer in my eye—sure, I was willing to drop out of school to play music, working remotely building websites with a modem ("Hey, anyone planning on using the phone for an hour?"), finally doing what I dreamt all those years ago in the basement—there was so much I missed in my dogmatic drive to be like my heroes.

Enter Rush.

I had heard their songs played on the radio during that time, but all I could connect with was metal's raw emotion and rage. I was too immature to understand how much art, creativity, and vision were contained in a single compact disc. I didn't understand how long they had been around, 26 years. Their discography was over double digits, and they had played countless shows, building their global fanbase. It's amazing how quickly we judge something we don't understand.

The first book I devoured this year is My Effin' Life by Geddy Lee (thanks, Elizabeth!). I love memoirs but throw in stories from the music world from the 1970s and 1980s, honest reflections and confessions, and the evolving nature of creative expression as you age, and I'm not going to be able to put the book down.

Books are journeys through time, space, and imagination. And they are so much more as a writer. As Geddy states, writing one is a "'healing road,' an exercise in looking back in order to move forward." In this 500-page tome, I was able to foster my respect for the band's career, but I also gained an understanding of my creative frustrations and obsessions and even healed an old wound.

"When I put my mind to a thing, whether a song, a tour, a collection, a journey or a book, it ruthlessly occupies my brain. For years, I'd wake in the middle of the night, thinking of a piece of music that wasn't working, fucking with it in my head until it was fixed and I could fall back asleep, telling myself that if I couldn't remember it in the morning, then it mustn't be any damn good in the first place."

– Geddy Lee

I can relate to this level of creative obsession. I do a lot; my pursuits vary and spread across multiple mediums and projects. Creativity, making things, is how I learn and express my curiosity. So, I get frustrated when wiser people than I tell me that one day I'll have to choose, that I can't do everything I want to do. Anger boils beneath the surface, and I wrestle with depression. I cry out, "What if they're right?" Not once thinking from the beginning, "What if they're wrong?"

Geddy's book helps me to find solace for my troubled spirit. I can begin to accept the consequences and challenges of the creative life. But mostly, I can trust the voice of dreams and desires that drive me forward.

"When can you say you've achieved a sound or a style all your own? It's basically when your influences have become so diverse that they're no longer easy to trace; they've blended together so thoroughly as to create a stew of your own making. But that's not enough. In my view, it requires a diversity of influences and the strength of your individual character."

– Geddy Lee

Before I dropped out of school, I hung out with the guitarist, who helped me write and record music. He was always working on writing and producing songs. It was awesome. Looking back, I was lucky to have him as my first creative mentor, even if I didn't appreciate it then or acknowledge it until now. When he asked me to join the band, however, it wasn't to play guitar but to play bass. Why bass? Because he could hear my influences on guitar. I interpreted that as a bad thing. What I heard was, "You suck at the guitar and are only good enough to play bass."

Oh, ego and naiveté.

So, I brought the elements of metal guitar playing I was developing to the bass and tried to do something different. I lacked a diversity of influences. I kept myself from studying bassists, from metal and prog to funk and jazz. Instead, I looped the sections of the song and did my best. The guitarist was an excellent producer, guiding me with where on the neck to play. Twenty-four years later, I'm proud of what I recorded, but ultimately, I would never work again musically at that scale.

After reading My Effin' Life, I can find peace in this statement about being able to hear my influences. It also helps that I am much more curious and broad in my influences across music, art, literature, and film. Not to mention a lot older, grayer, and balder. Time has a way of teaching you lessons.

I can't wait to read the book again, but for now, I'll immerse myself in the musical worlds of Rush's discography. Look no further if you want a book to lose yourself in this month. If you're a Spotify subscriber, you can even listen to it between albums (they have books, too). Finally, if you can't get enough of Geddy Lee, check out his show on Paramount+: Geddy Lee Asks: Are Bass Players Human Too?. He's quite funny and interesting.

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Newsletter Notes:

• Today's sonic soundtrack is Power Windows, Presto, and Roll the Bones by Rush

• I set the "Feed Your Curiosity" type in Boris Bold, a delicious font by Deadbolt Design