Broken: Lanegan’s Death And Your Number Called

Tuesday started early with great professional and personal highs. 

In my career with FOX Sports Radio, I’ve been blessed to work with a number of industry greats and former players transitioning into their next careers (and becoming greats in radio and television!). 

I was offered the opportunity to co-host The Dan Patrick Show (The DP Show!!!) with Rob Parker. Rob’s a mainstay in radio and television, sometimes a lightning rod for discussion and debate, and we hadn’t done a show together in quite some time. His show on FOX Sports Radio precedes mine each night, so the intersection hasn’t occurred in a while. 

Then, I was gifted the glory of a new single from The Afghan Whigs … and the release of several tour dates. My daughters and I anxiously await the West Coast adds). So, I streamed that tune multiple times in commercial breaks and rocked out. 

After the shift, I conversed with my team for a few minutes. It was so good for the soul to see some of them in person for the first time in months (some longer). Eventually, I got in the car and started driving home - playlist blaring - and, reports weren’t wrong, there was some traffic. Those that know me, or have read previous entries, know that I have a lot of Bowie, Dulli, Queen, Stones and Lanegan in the mix.

And then my phone started to buzz repeatedly. I finished the drive home and grabbed my phone, expecting some fallout from the Aaron Rodgers appearance on “The Pat McAfee Show.” That was only a part of it. My brother had forwarded the message from the Official Twitter account of Mark Lanegan. 

The troubadour, whose voice and lyrics echoed in my brain, a comfort in hard times and a burst of energy to propel the good, had died in Ireland. I froze. Broken in that moment. 

He’s been part of the soundtrack and an influencer (in the best of terms) for three decades, and I knew some of the Screaming Trees and QOTSA catalog, but his work and collaboration with Greg Dulli (Gutter Twins, Twilight Singers and Afghan Whigs) made me search out more lyrics, more tunes and more video of his history. 

There was a resonance in the news that generated a few tears. I can’t pretend to have known him. I knew his history, his struggles, and had read some of his writings about the effects Covid had on him. 

I met Lanegan a couple times at LA concerts, brief chats where I’d only ask a question or two, talk a little sports and thank him for the lyrics of particular songs that were in constant rotation on my playlist at the time. I’d always hoped for a longer interaction, an opportunity to discuss his road in more detail, more sports and pursuits. (It’s time for that music/pop culture podcast series, perhaps.)

The 2010 Greg Dulli concert at The Troubadour in LA remains one of my favorite live events. Meeting Dulli post-show was an honor, but the set contained surprises and an emotional roller coaster of powerful lyrics and guests. Lanegan came down the stairs, performed a couple songs from The Gutter Twins album with Dulli and the band, and just as quickly went back from whence he came. “The Stations” live carries tremendous weight - the opening on my list of all-time greats. 

Lanegan left us an awful lot in “Read Backwards and Weep,” his autobiography, the hundreds of poems and lyric sets, and, of course, a rich tapestry of performances with countless artists. His influence has been cited for decades by numerous artists — stories of those sessions with Kurt Cobain and “Where Did You Sleep Last Night?” 

The outpouring of love and respect filled my timeline on Tuesday and into Wednesday morning. The community that I speak of, the church-like energy and positivity, came together to celebrate his life and mourn his passing. It’s that energy that helps to sustain me. 

I hope he’d found some peace in Ireland with his wife. Good thoughts and memories to his family, friends and collaborators and fans across the globe. Grab some good. FYW

Here’s one of my favorites — “When Your Number Isn’t Up”

This performance features Dave Rosser, guitarist for The Afghan Whigs and Gutter Twins, who died in 2017. Get down that rabbit hole, starting with this classic. 

“No one needs to tell you that
There's no use for you here anymore
And where are your friends?
They've gone away
It's a different world
They left you to this
To janitor
The emptiness
So let's get it on”

Peter Pan No More: Brady Says Goodbye

 It finally ended. A series of Instagram posts from Tom Brady made it official earlier this week. 

We’d had myriad media reports — starting a week before the official announcement from friend of the show Jason LaCanfora. He had a second report for CBS Sports on the Friday before the big flurry of activity on Saturday when ESPN and the Schefter/Darlington combination dived into the fray. 

We’d done the deep dives and reasoning and rationalizing about Brady and his future for a week. The secondary reports made me take pause. 

For a moment, even though I was punting and shagging soccer balls for my daughter in my ragged shorts and backwards ball cap, I thought, “Damn. Now I’m officially old.”

It’s not a new phenomenon, these fleeting thoughts. After all, Jason and I have discussed plenty of “JRs” making their way to collegiate and then professional sports. 

But this one hit different. Brady’s the player that sought to spit in the eye of Father Time. He set lofty goals of playing at 45, or — crazier - even 50 years old. 

———

During the week, I’d argued about the high achievements of his 2021 season, the potential chaos of perhaps losing both coordinators, roster turnover and Brady having watched each of his contemporaries find their way to performance cliffs.  

So, the pile of reports came as no surprise and didn’t stop me too long. The next punt gave me a twinge in my hammy, but I’ve come to accept those as part of the process. I shanked it, and laughed like a lunatic as my daughter glared at me. 

By the time Brady actually confirmed the story, we didn’t spend much time discussing the actual retirement. Rather, we parsed words to determine potential snubs and the feelings of fan bases and organizations. 

We’re transitioning into a brave, new post-Brady world. He may have hung them up (maybe until late-July?), but we continue our pursuits to keep young and playing in our weekend warrior mode. Maybe I’ll even find some TB12 supplements and avocado ice cream. Hey, worked for Tom!

I gotta go stretch. “Ball up!”