I keep this Post-it Note in my laptop, a gift from tour manager Ryan “Bear” Drozd during last fall’s tour.
Ska music is happy-go-lucky sorta suburban-y pop/punk with horns. Ska music fans will no doubt take umbrage with this description, fans like Bear, who listens to ska music while buried in his laptop, doing the job of seven people.
Whenever I’d notice his eyes becoming coal black with rage, or exasperated sighs interspersed with profanity outnumbering sips of water, I’d check in. “Ska Music?” I’d ask. “Ska music” he’d reply.
Ska music, in Allen Stone parlance, became the consolatory battle cry while tackling all things asinine and tedious, and reconciling one’s self to putting one’s head down and getting shit done. Sound check delayed because the house crew’s tripping balls? Ska music. Bus breaks down? Ska music. Amp blows a fuse minutes before our set in NYC? Ska music. Always followed by a shrug of the shoulders and shot of the good stuff.
There are certain things that don’t warrant belaboring over - even if you did stumble upon a meaning, it’d be half-assed and underwhelming, kinda like the “pyro” I was promised at the WE Day event in Seattle a couple years back. One single freaking sparkler. In an arena.
Sometimes, it’s best to hunker down and power through, especially if it sucks, and I’m grateful for the daily reminder.