Page 6 of Contentment
But the come down is something of another monster. And I’m afraid of the deep depression I know is looming over me when I eventually have to stop doing this at the pace we are now. At this moment, and for about the next hour, nothing else matters as I hold my drumsticks above my head, as Briggs’ voice starts to echo through the tower of speakers surrounding us. “Help me introduce the folks up here with me! That I would not be half the man I am if our paths hadn’t crossed.” He pauses to let the crowd cheer, and I sit back in awe with my drumsticks gripped in my right hand. This feeling never gets old. And how Briggs can move a crowd so easily will always amaze me. He’s been up here for all of a minute, and the screams are deafening.“Raise your hands up and let me hear you scream for Eric over here on the electric guitar!”
Again, the crowd goes wild, and Eric waves to the crowd, as he always does. We make fun of him for his old age most days, but he truly is like our tour dad, and his wife Erin is sure as hell the tour mom. Momanager is what we call her, with her being our manager and having to take care of us when shit hits the fan. And not to mention Eric can play the hell out of a guitar.
Briggs is starting up the steps to the little platform where my drums and I are perched. I’m taking in his normal look. His favorite pair of hot pink cargo pants and a black crop top. His bleached out hair and crystal blue fucking eyes gleaming in these lights make him look like nothing short of a fallen angel. A fallen angel that’s covered in tattoos. “And last but not least, we have the most talented drummer in the game, and she happens to be on our team…Scottie—Bow Tie!” He’s hovering over me now, and all I can do is tilt my head back to stare up at him. A gasp escapes my lips, and I’m thankful there’s no mic back here to pick it up. Briggs sharing my nickname with the crowd was not something I thought would be happening tonight, but I’m not one to complain. I love the nickname, and him not hiding that from the world anymore has my whole body thrumming with anticipation.
Looking into his eyes while I watch his face light up, he gives me the most beautiful smile—that’s just for me. The fans may be capturing this moment with their phones, but it feels like it’s just us. I’m lucky enough to know his smile like the back of my hand, but not many people get to experience one like this, or the real reason he hides behind the humor he masks with. That beautiful smile and pretty exterior is harboring way too much, but in Briggs' eyes, laughing shit off is a lot easier than coming face to face with it. Writing about it is the closest he comes to sharing his feelings. He’s so careful not to let anyone close enough to seethrough the facade, to peek through the curtains at the pain that he carries with him every day.
But me.
He’s let me in. Rather, I’ve tiptoed into that glorious mind of his one bad press release, or fuck up on his end after another. Being the lead singer, all eyes are on him, no matter who else is in the band or what kind of fucked up shit we get ourselves in. Briggs can’t even breathe wrong without a new headline popping up.
I genuinely don’t know how he does it. I watch and help in any way I know how, but what he just pulled on this stage is going to have a lot of folks talking…I can already see the viral videos, and they make me want to throw my phone into the nearest body of water and never look back.
I might invest in a damn flip phone at this point.
It was a simpler time back in the day when you could only call andslowlytext.
Fuck…when you had minutes and texts were charged per message.
I’m really showing my age—back to the drumming and the hot as hell man standing in front of me. I give Briggs the biggest smile, then blow him a kiss with the hand my sticks are in for good measure. I don’t care what the fans or our label will have to say. They can’t run my life forever. Eric sees it, but it doesn’t seem to faze him. He sees and hears most of the shit that happens between Briggs and I, and he treats us like we treated him with his now wife. As long as everyone is a consenting adult and happy, we stay out of it. He gives us both a head nod and turns back to face the roaring crowd, raising his hand that holds his guitar pick up to the crowd, and giving them something more to cheer about.
It’s Thursday, Twisted Tours’ opening day. We’re headlining and closing out an epic first-day lineup. They just fed throughour earpieces that there are at least fifty thousand people in the crowd that my eyes can’t focus on now, with the blinding lights coming down on us. That’s always the best part. It always looks like a black abyss when the stage lights are on. I try not to think about the numerous stadiums we’ve already sold out, which will be filling the stadiums for our stretch of shows after the musical festivals are over. I never thought this small town would ever pull this many people out for a festival, but they sure as hell showed out.
It has taken us a while to get here—eight years, to be exact. Now that I’m in my early thirties and have learned way too many life lessons, I can step back and appreciate the journey this soul of mine has been through. I wouldn’t trade any moment of struggle from our come-up for what we have now. Every challenging situation has made us the band we are today.
And as Briggs makes his way back down my platform, stepping foot back on stage, he starts into the mic again. “I’m Briggs, your lead singer, and we’re Obsidian Static!” The crowd’s roar is unlike anything I’ve ever heard from our previous shows. “And we’re here to fix that static in your head, one song at a time. Sing along if you know the words!”
I give my one, two beat with my drumsticks over my head. Then bang them together four more times to get everyone going simultaneously. We always start with our most upbeat song, and also the one that took off on the charts, getting us where we are today, three years ago, almost to the day.
Obsession by us.
Obsidian Static.
The band, every critic, and anyone with any kind of credit in the metal world said we would never work. We were made fun of and mocked to the point I had to take Briggs’ phone away almost every night. He would scroll and watch critics constantly, and one thing about any artist…we should never read reviews.
But he did. And it put him into one of the worst states I’ve ever seen that man in. He eventually came up for air and wrote this very song. It may sound more upbeat, and to the folks that don’t listen super carefully, they would never know it’s actually all about the depression and obsession Briggs faced back a couple of years prior. The biggestfuck youto anyone that said he couldn’t do it. Or rather, thatwecouldn’t do it, or that we’d never make it. But here we are. Touring off our most recent album, those same critics now say there isn’t a bad song.
I couldn’t agree more.
Briggs’ voice starts so low in the opening portion ofObsession, almost like a growl scream, and it never fails to have me squeezing my thighs together. Well, the best I can while still having my feet on my pedals…
Never in the light
While you think the darkness wins
The obsession with our failure only fuels the fame
Briggs is one who can scream, but will turn around and shock the absolute shit out of you with the most beautiful singing voice your ears will ever hear. He’ll have people wondering if those different sounds are coming from that one person. Most bands in this genre have a vocalist who focuses on the “normal” vocals, and then someone who specifically screams. It’s hard on ones like Briggs, but he’s trained with some of the best voice coaches money can buy, and doesn’t overexert himself if his body is telling him it needs rest.
When the crowd starts singing along, it’s a feeling that I never want to mourn. I always take one of my earpieces out to hear everyone singing along with Briggs’ words. It’s chilling, in the best way possible. And tonight is no different. If anything, it’s even more magical now that I know this is the biggest crowd we’ve ever performed in front of.
But somehow Briggs still makes it feel like an intimate theatre show. He’s made sure to never change how he interacts with the crowd, and he just emits good energy. He was born to perform, but he is one of the purest souls I’ve ever met. I’ve always worried that he would be taken advantage of, but he’s stayed true to himself, and that’s hard to come by in this industry.
The chorus starts, and he’s breaking out his angelic vocals.
Expression of my depression, lost in the fight
The only deception is the one at night
