No One Knows (QOTSA)

The Coors Light can in my hand felt like a lifeline as I continued my session, the black plastic bag sitting next to me as a faithful companion in my desperate attempt to escape the whirlwind of thoughts that swirled inside my head. I stared at the screen of my phone, my fingers swiping through the Smule app, searching for a song that might provide some relief from the turmoil within. When I stumbled upon No One Knows by Queens Of The Stone Age, I felt a glimmer of hope that maybe this song could lift my spirits. I cracked open another can, the familiar sound echoing in the dark studio, providing a brief moment of comfort amidst the shadows that engulfed the room. As the opening riffs of the song started playing, I took a swig of the cold beer and let the liquid courage numb my senses. I closed my eyes, hoping that the combination of alcohol and music would transport me to a place where my fears and insecurities couldn’t reach me. With the lights low, I began to sing. My voice, still trembling from the weight of my emotions, tried to find solace in the gritty and raw lyrics of the song. I could feel the music coursing through my veins, providing a brief respite from the darkness that seemed to have taken residence in my soul. As I sang, my mind wandered back to the days of Morning View, my Incubus tribute band. The memories of standing on stage, surrounded by the energy of a live audience and the camaraderie of my bandmates, filled me with a longing that was almost unbearable. The Smule app, as enjoyable as it was, couldn’t compare to the exhilaration of performing with a live band. My alcohol abuse had driven me so far away from that stage, that dream I so desperately wanted to reclaim. It had become a crutch, a means to numb the pain and silence the doubts that gnawed at me relentlessly. But as I continued to drink and sing, I knew deep down that it was only a temporary reprieve, a fleeting moment of respite in a sea of darkness.