On Wednesday April 25th, I received the devastating news that I had lost my close friend and longtime bandmate Matt Brown. For the better part of a decade, we played and toured together in the Two Dollar Pistols, worked studio sessions and performed in various groups. Though our musical lives had taken different turns in the last few years, it was always a joy to see him and we would pick up where we left off like no time had passed. He was like a brother to me.
Since his passing, not a day goes by that I don't think about the music and laughs we shared over the years. I think about all of the crazy gigs we played (that community center in rural Holland with the fog machine?), the long hours spent traveling in the van made much more than bearable by his company, and the occasional harmless prank to pass the time either waiting to play or return home to our loved ones.
I think about that time Matt nearly got thrown off of an international flight for accidentally ringing the service bell too many times. I think about that time he was introduced at the Grand Ole Opry as Matt "Baby" Brown, which made his new nickname official. I think of that smile he'd give you across the stage just before he'd kick off a tune. And, of course, I think about the absolute power and dynamic precision of his drumming following that 4-count--you could feel it right through the stage like you just hopped on a freight train.
Most of all, I think about how unwaveringly SOLID he was--as a drummer, absolutely, but also as a friend, husband and father. Matt was the anchor. He would not let you down and he always brought his best.
I cherish the time that I spent with Matt and all the music we made. I'm going to miss him terribly.