To be quite honest, I wasn’t quite sure how to start this piece. I wrote a few introductions and unceremoniously deleted them all. I wanted to write about how music has the power to change lives, but no matter how I framed it, I felt pretentious. After all that, I just decided to just dive right in.
Music is extremely important to me. It’s always been in my life in one way or another, and it always will be. My first date with my now wife was a concert back in 1997. Twenty-four years later, we’re still going strong and still going to as many shows as we can.
While music is mainly for my enjoyment and entertainment, it also helps me work through some things. Sometimes, all it takes is hearing and really focusing on the meaning of a song to change my perspective. One such song is “Photosynthesis” by Frank Turner.
My introduction to Frank Turner
My first “real” job in corporate America was at the headquarters for Borders Books & Music, the now defunct bookstore chain. It was the coolest job for twenty-something me. I got to work with book publishers, meet authors and celebrities, and get access to books and music before anyone else did. Publishers and record labels would send us so many promos that there were stacks of free product everywhere, including in a room in the cafeteria.
Since I listened to mostly independent music, I usually had my pick of the litter on promo CDs. One day, I saw an artist I didn’t recognize. However, I saw the Epitaph logo on the spine, so I thought it was worth a shot. It was free, right?
The album was Love Ire & Song from Frank Turner. I took it to my cube, gave it a spin, and fell in love. I then loaned the CD to my wife, who also worked at Borders, and that’s all she wrote. We instantly became fans of Turner’s brand of folk-punk.
From there, we sought out everything he did. We found out about his previous hardcore band and listened to them, too. My first chance to see him live was at Riot Fest in 2012. My wife and I then started going to his shows every time he played near us, and we eventually began traveling to see him, including a flight to Boston for his Lost Evenings Festival. We even met some great friends through these touring adventures.
It’s safe to say Frank Turner has been a pretty consistent part of our lives for the last 12 years or so. A strong part of my attachment to his music is that it helped me out with a major issue that plagued me from the time I turned 18 until my early thirties.
Sometimes, growing up isn’t all it’s cracked up to be
As a teenager, I felt invincible. Nothing bad could happen, and I didn’t worry about anything, since I could be as responsible (or irresponsible) as I wanted. I attended concerts whenever I wanted to. I spent all my money and didn’t save any of it. In summary, I did all the things older me really wished I didn’t do.
Teenage Dane – you didn’t need to collect the entire Troma Video Movie Collection on DVD! All of your DVDs are now in cabinets or the basement!
That way of thinking got me through my awkward teenage years, but it immediately screeched to a halt when I turned 18. On the surface, nothing really changed for me, except I could buy lottery tickets, cigarettes, and Playboy legally if I wanted to.
That feeling of being an official “adult” really messed with me though. All of a sudden, there were consequences to my actions. I could get in real trouble now, instead of just participating in shenanigans. And worst of all, I realized I would die someday.
Now, I wasn’t naïve about the nature of things. I already knew my story would end eventually, but I never gave it a second thought before then. As a legal adult, a switch flipped, and I was terrified.
From that point on, in the back of my mind, I already had one foot in the grave.
I started to develop Obsessive Compulsive habits and anxieties. The responsibilities I put on myself as an adult became too much. I needed to always check things. I needed something to control.
Are the doors locked? Probably, but I need to go check again. Is my alarm set? Not sure, let me set it again ten more times before I go to bed. Did I unplug the George Foreman Grill after I finished using it? Let me drive 40 minutes back home to find out.
As I started doing more grownup things, those habits would get worse. They became disruptive (and still are to a lesser extent). Some of my friends realized they could mess with me by asking if I remembered to lock a door, or roll up a window, or close the garage. I definitely did all of those things, but just asking me would sow the seeds of doubt in my head, and I would have to go check. Not a fun way to spend your free time, that’s for sure.
Anxiety, meet my fear of death
When I got older, and gained even more responsibility in life, those obsessive manifestations naturally merged with my unhealthy relationship with death. I began to stay up later out of some fear of wasting the waking time I had left. The only problem was I didn’t use that extra time for anything productive. Instead, I would research average lifespans and start doing calculations of how much time I had left.
I thought about how things would likely just cease to exist and go black for me. This inevitably led to hyperventilating at the thought of not being around anymore. I would then develop insomnia and not sleep because I was worrying about all of the different ways I could possibly die.
After that, I would start thinking about how people in my family would start to die, and once those future generations died, I would be forgotten. Once I was forgotten, they would be forgotten next, which sent me spiraling into another level of despair.
To be completely honest, I still have flareups and issues to this day, but nothing like what I just discussed. My fear of being forgotten is at the root of my desire to create. Just like the prophet Tim Armstrong once said, “Through music, he can live forever.”
Just writing all of this down is bringing up a lot of feelings again.
Reading it all back is actually kind of frightening. I see that everything I’m documenting is completely irrational, but at the time, it was so crippling. In some respects, it still is. To be quite honest, these feelings always seemed to intensify after major life events. Marriage? Check. Buying a house? Check. Having a child? Check.
My loving and supportive wife (seriously, she’s a saint for putting up with almost two decades of this) tried to rationalize away my irrationality. She always made good points, especially when she would mention that all this self-inflicted stress would actually end me sooner.
Another thing she wisely discussed is how I was wasting my time with these issues. The time I spent worrying about death cut down on the time I should be living and making memories. She even tried to snap me out of it so that I could be present for our daughter. I’d have moments of clarity where I was determined to change, but something would happen that sent me back down that death spiral.
So, how does Frank Turner fit into all of this?
The brain is a fascinating thing. Sure, I probably could’ve been on the road to recovery much sooner if I wasn’t too cheap and stubborn to seek professional help, but that’s a story for another day. I had to figure out a way to either trick or overcome those feelings. I needed to take control again.
My wife being completely rational about the situation didn’t work, so what would? Well, unexpectedly, it was that folk-punk singer from England that I found in the “Free Merch” room at Borders all those years ago.
By this time, my wife and I were already in full swing of seeing Frank live. His shows are a sight to behold. They’re loud, rambunctious, and cathartic. He speeds up his songs a bit when performing live, presenting more on the punk spectrum than the folk one. The crowds know every word and have no problem singing along at the top of their lungs. It’s a sweaty two-hour circus, and Frank Turner is the Ringmaster.
One of my favorite songs to hear live is “Photosynthesis”
Though I’ve already revealed so much about myself in this piece, here’s another relevant tidbit: I am horrible with memorizing song lyrics. It could be a song that I’ve listened to for over 20 years from my favorite band, and I’ll still mess up the lyrics without fail.
That’s why I really cling to songs with simple, anthemic choruses. During those songs, I can let loose confidently because there’s no way I’m going to mess it up.
“Photosynthesis” is one of those songs.
The chorus declares:
And I won’t sit down/And I won’t shut up/And most of all I will not grow up
Not bad right? Frank typically plays this song to open the show or right before the encore, because it really gets the crowd going. And I’m right there singing along to my heart’s content. But while I know the premise of the song, I’ve always just tuned into the chorus. That’s probably why it took me so long to realize that one verse in the song held the key to solving my problem.
My wife finally pointed it out to me as a last-ditch effort to snap me out of my funk. She wondered how I could still have my issues with the idea of death when “Photosynthesis” was my favorite Frank Turner song. I didn’t follow, so she spelled it out for me and had me really listen to the lyrics.
And if all you ever do with your life
Is photosynthesize
Then you deserve every hour of these sleepless nights
That you waste wondering when you’re gonna die
The light bulb in my head finally went off
The key to it all was right there under my nose this whole time. The song is about getting old, but it’s also about living your life in a way that makes the most sense for you. But then Frank sneaks a word of warning right into middle of the song.
Hearing that lyric clearly and comprehending its meaning was life-changing. A bomb of intense realization exploded in my psyche. I recognized how much time I’d wasted, literal years having multiple sleepless nights on a weekly basis.
I owe my turnaround to Frank Turner, and of course, my wife, who never gave up on me. In those early days post-realization, I found myself listening to the song multiple times a day to help calm my mind.
These days, I don’t listen to it for those reasons. Now, I gravitate more towards the core meaning of the song. That’s why I’m sitting here towards the end of my 40th year on this Earth re-energized to start living – instead of waiting for death to arrive. I’m writing about the music I love, wearing a classy “author sweater,” and listening to the tick of the trombone clock my wife bought me last year as a show of support for my dreams.
Postscript: My wife is a badass
My initial idea for this feature was to talk about Frank Turner, his song, and how it changed my life. As I wrote it, a picture of the real hero of this story began to reveal herself. My wife. Through thick and thin, and all my ridiculous bullshit, she’s been there. Sure, “Photosynthesis” changed my life, but it never would’ve been more than a fun punk rock song I enjoyed singing at concerts if it weren’t for my wife.
So I wanted to close with one more story about the song and her. In 2013, Frank Turner released the album Tape Deck Heart. The art for the singles and the album was done in the American Traditional tattoo art style. My wife found out that the artist for each piece was also tattoo artist. Her name is Heather Law, and she worked in a tattoo parlor in Florida at the time.
“And some of us, we have tattoos”
From there, my wife went to work. She scheduled an appointment for both of us with Heather while we were down in Florida on vacation in 2017. She also got access to her parent’s car so we could “visit our friend Heather.” Finally, she drove us almost six hours round-trip to get my first tattoo from the artist who designed art for Frank Turner.
I then spent two of the first three hours of the drive down working up the nerve to call my mom and let her know what I was doing. For context, I was 36 at the time, and that call was scarier to me than actually getting the tattoo!
My wife and I were at the shop all day, and Heather treated us like royalty. We both got Frank Turner-inspired tattoos – I wasn’t lying when I said his music is important to us. My wife’s tattoo was based on “The Next Storm” off Positive Songs For Negative People. For mine, I wanted Heather to act as if she was designing the art for a “Photosynthesis” single. That was the only guidance I gave, and she went to work designing something amazing.
I’m so happy with how it turned out. It’s a nice end to that chapter of my life and serves as a visual reminder if my brain demons start to rear their ugly heads again. It’s been about ten years since that light bulb moment though, and I’m happy to say, “So far, so good.”
Good news on the horizon
These days, my sleepless nights come from late-night writing sessions, which is a much more enjoyable form of insomnia. It’s time to rebuild my sleep deprivation stamina though, because we’ll be welcoming another addition to the family soon. And, of course, I already bought this onesie for our new child.
