In the last couple of days examples of my musical triggers have been aroused for the wrong reasons. I first saw the news notification about Eric Carmen, who I highlighted in Musical Triggers in July 2022 with “Go All The Way,” and his band The Raspberries. Carmen, who went on to have a lucrative solo career with songs such as the melancholy “All By Myself” (later covered by Celine Dion), “Never Gonna Fall in Love Again,” and “Hungry Eyes,” passed away in his sleep at age 74 on March 11.
Not even an hour after reading the news about Carmen I was hit with the news of the death of the mighty Karl Wallinger, perhaps a little bit lesser known, but profoundly talented musician from Wales who played as a member of the stellar early to mid-1980s post-punk, new wave band The Waterboys (“The Whole of the Moon”). Wallinger, who spent a little over two years with The Waterboys (1983-1985) went on to form his own band called World Party, in 1986 and continued with it in different forms through 2015. Wallinger, an immensely talented musician, grew up obsessed with music, learning multiple instruments as well as becoming a prolific and successful songwriter. He passed on Sunday, March 10, 2024, at 66. I am 66. It is a little unnerving to watch as the musical heroes of my youth (and theirs) begin to check out in various ways. It’s a sad feeling to suddenly realize you’ve been out of touch with the talent and the sounds only to be reminded by the loss of the artist.
With World Party Wallinger found his niche, after the stint as a keyboardist (and engineer for recordings) with The Waterboys, where the artist found recognition and success but knew he would end up in a struggle with the band’s lead Mike Scott, himself a creative songwriter and musician. I recall loving The Waterboys because they fit right into the pool of my tastes for that time in my life. But with the Waterboys I was not fully introduced or aware of the talents Wallinger brought to the table. When World Party put out their first album “Private Revolution” Wallinger was front and center, now on lead guitar, showcasing his songwriting skills, and eclectic look complete with the little oval granny glasses up front and center.
In 1986 I was smack dab in the middle of my 1980s bubble. I was already several years into the VJ role at Revolver and rather well-known as the guy in the booth at the club with cocaine. At this point, the drug was a mainstay and a livelihood. In the beginning, I used it primarily to avoid getting sloppy drunk. The cocaine seemed to help me with the blackouts and kept me cohesive enough with the constant flow of vodka helping me to be “on” as the VJ during my shifts. Being the guy with cocaine afforded me an endless supply of my favorite cocktail from clients who wanted to visit and from bartenders who delivered the drinks. In the eyes of someone oblivious to, or in denial of the longer-term issues the drugs and drinking were causing (and destined to produce), this was all a really good time in my life. In hindsight, I had already had two DUIs by this time, neither one of them phasing me or pointing to the issues my alcoholism illustrated in my life. Let’s face it, when I had my first DUI I blamed the incident (occurring on the corner of Robertson and Santa Monica Boulevards) on the song playing on the radio. Justification is the way of the alcoholic. In my mind “Maniac” by Michael Sembello was at fault, not the fact that I had just come from a night of drinking. The second DUI I blamed on Los Angeles. There was a period in 1985 when I solidly planned to move back to New York and live in the city to avoid driving.
Granted, I did not move to New York. Instead, I continued to live the lifestyle of a vampire. There were several years where my whole existence was at night. We would pass out (if lucky) when the sun came up. You could always feel daylight even through the black sheets and coverings that shielded my windows from any form of light at 1352 N Formosa Ave. My friends (and I had many of them because of the cocaine) called the apartment I lived in the ‘crypt’ because of the hours we would spend in it after clubs closed doing whatever felt good and continuing the night’s drinking and using as long as possible. Some of those poor creatures even would have jobs to go to the next day. I never really had a job in the real world until after my eventual sobriety in 1991.
As always, however, during whatever the night, the people, the bars, or the state of mind might have been, the music was always front and center in whatever we, the night people, were doing. One of the reasons the VJ position at Revolver was so sacred to me was because I was forever being introduced to new music, new sounds, new bands, and new ways to feel my joy. Music rocked my world then as it does today and because of it, I might even venture to conclude I am still here.
World Party and its talented lead Karl Wallinger symbolized one of the many different micro eras of my tastes, evolutions, and triggers. “Ship of Fools” was dynamic in my earlier senses and a means of protest and anger about the world around me. I might have been a drug addict oblivious to the world for the most part, but I did understand the atrocities that existed. I lived in a city where the existence of a plague on gay men was growing and becoming more and more petrifying to those of us unable to fully grasp what it meant much less what it would soon be. The worst was yet to come but it had already arrived. Being gay was deeply troubling and held more of a stigma outside of our bubble rivaling the sense of fear and confusion I would feel when I was a kid facing the lack of understanding of who I really was in this world. At least I knew I belonged in the 1980s. My identity was uncovered, and I had community, something there was none of for years. What was sad was that with the community came a sense of persecution and hatred from a wider world. It didn’t make sense then and it doesn’t make sense now.
Although Wallinger’s “Ship of Fools” was not about the AIDS epidemic and its rise, it was about environmentalism, a topic that continues to ring true today (to far more severe levels). The title and my trigger will always hold on to the rest of the tune’s title: “Save Me From Tomorrow.” Today I honor Karl Wallinger for his contribution, his music, his endless talent, and his place here on planet Earth.
Avarice and greed are gonna drive you over the endless sea
They will leave you drifting in the shallows
Or drowning in the oceans of history
Traveling the world, you're in search of no good
But I'm sure you'll build your Sodom like you knew you would
Using all the good people for your galley slaves
As you're little boat struggles through the warning waves, but you don't pay
You will pay tomorrow
You're gonna pay tomorrow, yeah
You're gonna pay tomorrow
Save me, save me from tomorrow
I don't want to sail with this ship of fools, no, no, no