Heartstrings

It is I again. Some of you may have noticed I often say, “ This pulls at my heartstrings.” There is a reason behind that by the way. I know it’s a saying, folks. But it has a different meaning to me. 

“ You want a DeadLove story? Want to understand Joey G a little better? I can’t hear you! It needs to be loud enough to shake the fucking rafters, people!” 

Sorry, went into frontman mode for a second. lol. Side-note, here’s an interesting tidbit. At the end of our relationship we were talking on phone and text only. I hadn’t seen him in person in about a year and a half at the time. This was like 2022.

So we’re on the phone one night, he starts talking about, Jimmy Stephens. A mutual friend of ours, and his current drummer in his new band at the time this moment takes place. He tells me, Jimmy is getting a divorce from his wife.

This woman was Jimmy’s high-school sweetheart, folks. He still loves her, he’s tore up about this a little. Here’s how Joey G tells me this story.

“So, Jimmy’s getting a divorce right. He tells me, Joey, me and my wife are getting a divorce. I tell him, I’m sorry to hear that Jimmy. On the other hand you’ll be able to give more time to the band. Longer practices, an additional practice? Gotta harness that negative energy you know.” 

Then he wonders why Jimmy got pissed at him. I’m serious, folks. Little things like that happen often with his dynamic personality. It doesn’t register with him that kind of honesty isn’t always appropriate. lol.

By the way I reached out to Jimmy, to give him my condolences. He revealed without me asking, what Joey said happened, had went down that way to a T.

Did he mean it, you might ask? Every word. Subtlety is not his strong-suit. There is a reason though, that’s because that’s what he would do. 

In fact during Joey’s own divorce, that’s what he had did. Wrote about it, poured it into his songwriting. Usually, lyrics was a collaboration between the two of us. 

Truth is I’m the powder keg, I’m the spark in our creative friendship. Always was, that “Clusterfuck” album I’m on as a writer. The first two songs written, all my lyrics. He brought no ideas to the table.

Then he finally writes a couple of songs lyrically. I was hanging out with him one night, he says let’s write some words together. We do that, it does become a song, it was 50/50 on the words.

After that crickets. He’s writing all the words, for every song. Until he gets stuck. He’s got a riff, but the inkwell dried up. The album needs one more song. Isn’t it fitting I pen those words. 

I won’t lie, it felt good when that last song became a live favorite. I got to hear an audience singing my words. And the audience requesting it to be played at the shows.

It still gives me goosebumps thinking about it. But, I went on a tangent as usual. Although it does set up well what happens next. 

Before his divorce he was trying to keep it from ending, probably because she brought home the bacon. The gravy-train was drying up. I had became his psychiatrist during this time. 

We’re talking about 2018, maybe. The plan had been taking the lyrics we both wrote together, and making an album with that material. I even had one I wrote that was all my words. I was excited, thinking it was going to finally happen.

The divorce happens and we don’t see each other for about a month or so. He invites me over after his wife and kid have moved out. Want’s me to come to the studio. It is a functioning studio at this point.

No huddling together trying to record scratch tracks with a little laptop microphone. Like we did a few summers back.

I arrive, drinks start flowing. He lets me hear a couple of tracks he laid down, guitar and vocal. Both really good songs with potential to be even better. 

In my head I’m thinking these are going to fit well with the other songs we had on scratch tracks. This is shaping up to be a nice batch of songs.

That’s when I get the news, with a very well thought out concept album pitch, explaining why he’s decided to call an audible on the whole project.

Well, fuck! The last seven months of songwriting just went poof. Then comes the real gut blow, he’s decided he’s writing all the lyrics. 

He has to do this project, to move forward and come to terms with the whole ordeal. But, he wants me to help him arrange the songs, and do backing vocals, he even wants me to use the death growl.

On an acoustic guitar driven album with electric bass and drums. He gave me Carte Blanche, on those kinda ideas. I did what I always did, adapt.

I’m a jack of all trades and a master of none for a reason, I always put others first most of my life. I could have been a better writer possibly, if I hadn’t been a team player all the time. lol.  

The name of the album was: Heartstrings. Which is setting on a hard drive somewhere gathering dust. Because then his new band came along, and he let the album die. 

When I say, it tugs at my heartstrings, that album comes to mind. Word association I guess. lol. Anyhow, I don’t have a copy of the recordings, that’s a whole other story. 

My resume might be a little fuller if anybody had ever heard more of the songs I was on. Oh well, this is what can happen if you work with certain people. 

That my friends is how addiction helped me make so many bad decisions. Be careful of who you work with, folks. lol. 

Thanks for reading everyone. Appreciate you all. Peace, Love, & Lennon.

Copyright @ Damian DeadLove 2025