jl_hangingFebruary 2012 kicked off the 0th anniversary of Innocent Words Magazine. With that in mind, we have decided to write one retrospective feature each issue documenting our biggest moments, good, bad or otherwise.

“You CANNOT make friends with the rock stars. That’s what’s important. If you’re a rock journalist – first, you will never get paid much. But you will get free records from the record company. And they’ll buy you drinks, you’ll meet girls, they’ll try to fly you places for free, offer you drugs… I know. It sounds great. But they are not your friends. These are people who want you to write sanctimonious stories about the genius of the rock stars, and they will ruin rock and roll and strangle everything we love about it.” Lester Bangs, “Almost Famous”

“He was never a person, he was a journalist…He WAS the ENEMY!” Jeff Bebe “Almost Famous”

I don’t know if the brilliant Cameron Crowe film “Almost Famous” coincidently came out around the time I was toying with the idea of starting Innocent Words or it was just dumb luck…maybe fate? I don’t know.

However, I did take it as a high compliment when friends would see me and tell me every time they watch the film they think of me. Even people I hadn’t seen in 20 years would tell me that I reminded them of the main character William Miller. I have to admit, I loved hearing that from people.

From the get go when people would call me a “journalist” I would down play that, even correcting them. I just saw myself as a music writer. I hated the term journalist. It reminded me of seedy writers who would do anything to break the big story and that wasn’t me, that’s not why I started Innocent Words. I was just a music fan trying to help the underdog.

Over the 10 years of Innocent Words, I can count only three run ins I’ve had with bands. Mostly it was bands who didn’t care for the reviews they were given, sadly sometimes “friends” thought their band would get special privledges since we were friends, but that’s not the case.

I’ve been very fortunate along this trip, it still gives me goose bumps to be able to talk to some one my rock icons.

There I was in the club on a chilly November 13, 2005 evening about five hours or more before show time. The old brick building was so quiet, empty and clean, something I wasn’t used to seeing.  I came in the back door to find my friend, the promoter Ward up front doing some promoter thing he does. I went up to him and we hung out and talked.

Then I saw it there, out the large front plate glass windows, the big tour bus. They were here, they were in town already. I queried Ward to if he had seen them yet.

“Yeah they are floating around here somewhere,” he said so nonchalantly. He’d met thousands of bands before, so he wasn’t affected. But for me, I hadn’t met many world-wide known rock bands, and I had been a fan of these guys since 1988.

We kept chatting it up as I looked out the window, not really paying attention to what Ward and a few others were talking about. I was looking for them.  Then from behind I heard his shy laidback voice. He was standing right behind me asking Ward something. I turned around and there he was. All six-foot-plus inches of one of my rock and roll heroes. He was thin, his jeans hung off his hips, but stylish of course. He had on a white tank top with a blue mechanics shirt over the top and a star belt buckle. His arms were long, maybe too long for his body, past his thighs and his hands were large and boney. Then there was the hair, the famous “blonde baby dreads” hung down on his black face.

I’ve interviewed this rock and roller a handful of times in the past but we never met in person, so we were kind of friends, but kind of not. Before I could get my name out he said “You must be Troy,” and leaned in to give me a giant hug.

Before this meeting, before all the interviews, it was 1988 and I was still in high school. I watched more of MTV’s “Headbangers Ball” than I studied for school. One night the music channel played a video called “King” from King’s X’ debut album Out of the Silent Planet.

King’s X was a three-piece band with a black left-handed bassist wearing the coolest Mohawk I had ever seen and he was in a fucking heavy metal band. That was something you didn’t see around the music scene, let alone on MTV. These guys were not just metal. They had some of the more beautiful Beatles-esque melodies you had heard since the Fab Four played the “Ed Sullivan Show.” They sounded like no other band out at the time. It was like someone put Black Sabbath, the Beatles and Rush into a blender and made King’s X.

Since that video, I was hooked and bought every King’s X cassette, and of course had to buy them again once the CD revolution hit the music world.

So there I was in present day as a fan, music writer with one of my rock and roll icons right in front of me. The Mohawk was long shaved off in favor of the baby dreadlocks, but it was still frontman bassist Doug Pinnick.

King’s X was about to get ready for sound check and Doug said I could stick around then we could grab some diner if I wanted. We talked about that prior to him coming into town but I didn’t put much stock in it because of his crazy schedule, so this was a nice surprise.

I sat back at the bar while Doug, guitarist Ty Tabor and drummer Jerry Gaskill tuned their instruments. They played a few jams and got things ready. The sound check was blistering loud and echoed since no one else was in the club save a few roadies and me and Ward. Ty was picky about his set-up or sound, which delayed things, which seemed to make things more stressful than they needed to be. By the time bickering ended Doug and Jerry were ready to get some food and hang out.

After sound check was done, Doug, Jerry, another friend of mine and me decided to try out this I