A few weeks ago, my brother-in-law, Al, died. The circumstances of his death were incredibly tragic, and our family is still reeling from the loss.
Normally, I wouldn’t feel right about using this space to talk about family matters. I’m usually much too private a person to ever broach such subjects in print. This time, however, is different.
You see, Al was a music lover, and though he’d only recently subscribed to Goldmine, as he said to me once recently, “You put out one hell of a magazine.” And while he directed the compliment at me, I can’t take much credit for it.
That should be reserved for the writers and editors who’ve invested so much of their time and talents over the years into making Goldmine one of the most respected music magazines around. I’m just here to tend the store.
In a sense, I’d like to dedicate this issue to my brother in law. One of his favorite acts was Frank Zappa, and in this edition, we have a story on Zappa Plays Zappa, the musical ensemble put together by Frank’s eldest son, Dweezil, to pay tribute to the music of his old man.
Lounging in Al’s basement, we would often listen to Frank Zappa, and other greats covered in this edition of Goldmine, like Pink Floyd, Yes and others. It was a nice hideaway from the world, a place to escape and relax and talk about nothing in particular. I’ll miss those times, and I’ll miss Al. I think he would have enjoyed this issue.