The past week I have seen how rock’n’roll can truly bring out the best in people. In this case, it’s more indirectly, but still – the common denominator is the love for music, and the relationship between the people who create it, and the ones who listen to it.

It feels like a family, and I guess in a way it is.
I read one of the nicest messages I’ve seen on Facebook the other day. 

This message was sent out by legendary bassplayer Neil Murray about two days ago:

“When I win the lottery, I’ll get everyone together who wished me a happy birthday and have the best party ever! Thanks again for all your kind wishes – I’m a lucky guy to have you as Facebook friends!”

Very short, but a very cool gesture and I loved the part about “winning the lottery“. :) He could just as well have thought “I don’t know those people” and just have settled for a short “Thanks for the b-day wishes” – period.

Anyway… I loved what he wrote.
Then a more sad situation but also a very sincere and wonderful message from another rock-legend, Jon Lord:

“Just a quick line or two from an absolutely overwhelmed, gratified and humbled musician.

“Your responses to the news of my condition have touched my heart in a way that has truly helped to make my life a better place to be than it had occasionally threatened to become these last few weeks.

“Your wonderful messages wishing me strength and courage have given me even more strength and courage — and so much more than you can ever know.

“I read many of them with tears in my eyes, grateful for this cast-iron proof of the innate goodness of the human being, and grateful to every single one of you for your invaluable support.

“This message goes out, too, to all the similarly wonderful folk on other websites whose support has been equally warm and strong and I want you all to know how greatly heartened and comforted I am by all this.

“The treatment continues and I am confident and being supported by my glorious family and an amazing group of friends.

“See you soon.”

I think the same kind of support is what kept Ronnie James Dio around for a while longer. We love our music and we love our heroes for giving it to us. It all comes back somehow, goes in circles, just as it does at a rock’n’roll-show. The exhange of enegy from the crowd to the band and right back again continues in a sort of way off-stage as well.

Sebastian Bach lost his house, his posessions in the hurricane – everything. Including the Skid Row mastertapes… People who are usually calling him every bad name in the book, finally showed a more human, decent side, and said they were truly sorry to hear about his loss.

I sent an e-mail through the management offering him some of his memorabilia back, if he was interested. Back in the day I used to collect Skid Row stuff, and Sebastian has acknowledged that collection several times. I wouldn’t get rid of it for any reason, just because of all the memories that go along with it, but in this case it felt like I could and would.
I saw that other people offered something similar, so I guess he will get part of his collection back eventually.

As much as we’re all strangers by the definition of the word, we’re also close to the artists whose music has touched our hearts. And when there’s a crisis, people seem to really step up and show what they’re made of. A day like this, I’m really proud of the global metal community. :-)