I always consider it my strange good fortune to have a past life that includes making music in Joe Frawley’s basement.

Yes, in high school I’d haul my black Pearl drum kit to his house and set it up with Dan Cote for some three-man rock. Joe sang and played the bass & keyboard, Dan electric guitar. We did simple covers like Runaway (Bon Jovi), You Ain’t Seen Nothin’ Yet (BTO) and I remember a particularly adventurous exploration of Violent Femmes we called Variations on a Confession.

Joe was the talent. Dan the energy. I just banged along, including on cowbell when we brought forth the BTO at the high school ‘talent’ show and about one graduation party in Woodside Acres.

True to himself, Joe’s still putting his music out there. It sounds good. I like to turn off the news now and again and listen to a little peace.

Peace like this.




2 thoughts on “1989

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