I receive google alerts on the band I follow, and other key words such as reincarnation, spirituality and music. Generally, I get about 25 alerts on a daily basis, but for the past week, my inbox overfloweth with postings regarding a new "supergroup" named Tinted Windows, which happens to include one of the guys in the band I write about in my book, I Found All the Parts: Healing the Soul through Rock 'n' Roll.
Who are Tinted Windows? In a million years you probably wouldn't guess (unless your psychic antennae are reaaalllyyy good): former Smashing Pumpkin guitarist James Iha, Taylor Hanson of the brothers Hanson, Cheap Trick drummer Bun E. Carlos, and Fountain of Wayne bassist/songwriter Adam Schlesinger. A self-titled debut album has already been recorded and will drop April 21 featuring their first single "Kind of a Girl." Tinted Windows will play their inaugural gig at the SXSW music showcase in Austin, TX on March 20.
A promo video has been released by Tinted Windows on MySpace. Here's a link to the song "Kind of A Girl" on Rolling Stone's Smoking Section.
How these four gentlemen came together be is ripe for speculation, but blogs claim Iha and Schlesinger own a recording studio together. As for Carlos and Hanson, they are over 30 years apart in age, but hey, the Jonas Brothers recently performed with Stevie Wonder at the Grammys. I remember when the young whippersnapper David Bowie sang with Bing Crosby (found the clip on YouTube!). Perhaps the age difference and seemingly diverse musical backgrounds will be an asset when it comes to creativity.
Several blogs ripped the name Tinted Windows as being lame-o and uncreative, but I kinda like it. You can't see into a tinted window from the outside, yet those on the inside can clearly see the outerworld. To me, it's a metaphor for lots of things. (Warning: since I live for metaphor and symbolism, the rest of this post is about what the band's name evokes for me. If you don't dig that kinda thing, stop reading).
I once walked out of a church, and when I went to cross the street, I turned my head to the left and saw a woman on a bicycle with a metal basket zooming toward me. She couldn't have been more than 2o, but what astounded me was the writing on her spaghetti-strap t-shirt. It was the name of my favorite band, the same band I write about in my book. I rarely see anyone wearing a shirt with their logo, so I yelled out the name of the band, with an "All right!" at the end of my exclamation.
The young woman rode past me without a flinch. It was as if I was on one side of a tinted window, clearly seeing her pass by, and she on the other, never noticing my existence. She was a rock star, and I, an invisible fan.
I wonder what it feels like to be a rock star, sitting in a limo, looking out at the fans through a tinted window. They can see us, but even without a tinted window, do we ever truly see them? Does the nature of celebrity preclude famous artists from ever being authentic with fans? Sting told Q Magazine in 1993, "Being on stage is a fucking war. That's not confidence you see, that's armor. It's not real." Maybe he's changed his tune over the years, but it prompts the question if the artist can ever roll down the window a bit and reveal their true selves.
But there is yet another metaphor "tinted windows" brings to mind. How often do we miss what's right in front of us because our beliefs or fears limit what we can perceive? How does our past tint what we see and feel right now? For me, my spiritual journey with a famous rock band allowed me to see that my heart had a huge tinted window surrounding it. For years, I looked at the outside of my heart through that tinted window, and only saw a reflection of my outer self. I couldn't see the repressed emotions hidden behind the window. But the band and their music ultimately helped smash the darkened glass so that I could finally see the unresolved pain that my heart was holding onto, and then let it go.
Music has the ability to break through our mental illusions and distortions. It sorta makes me want to sing, "I can see clearly now, the rain has gone. I can see all obstacles in my way. Gone are the dark clouds that had me blind. It’s gonna be a bright (bright), bright (bright) Sun-Shiny day. " ("I Can See Clearly Now," written by Johnny Nash). Yet on those bright, sun-shiny days, what helps us see things more clearly without fear of getting burned? Tinted Windows.
Who are Tinted Windows? In a million years you probably wouldn't guess (unless your psychic antennae are reaaalllyyy good): former Smashing Pumpkin guitarist James Iha, Taylor Hanson of the brothers Hanson, Cheap Trick drummer Bun E. Carlos, and Fountain of Wayne bassist/songwriter Adam Schlesinger. A self-titled debut album has already been recorded and will drop April 21 featuring their first single "Kind of a Girl." Tinted Windows will play their inaugural gig at the SXSW music showcase in Austin, TX on March 20.
A promo video has been released by Tinted Windows on MySpace. Here's a link to the song "Kind of A Girl" on Rolling Stone's Smoking Section.
How these four gentlemen came together be is ripe for speculation, but blogs claim Iha and Schlesinger own a recording studio together. As for Carlos and Hanson, they are over 30 years apart in age, but hey, the Jonas Brothers recently performed with Stevie Wonder at the Grammys. I remember when the young whippersnapper David Bowie sang with Bing Crosby (found the clip on YouTube!). Perhaps the age difference and seemingly diverse musical backgrounds will be an asset when it comes to creativity.
Several blogs ripped the name Tinted Windows as being lame-o and uncreative, but I kinda like it. You can't see into a tinted window from the outside, yet those on the inside can clearly see the outerworld. To me, it's a metaphor for lots of things. (Warning: since I live for metaphor and symbolism, the rest of this post is about what the band's name evokes for me. If you don't dig that kinda thing, stop reading).
I once walked out of a church, and when I went to cross the street, I turned my head to the left and saw a woman on a bicycle with a metal basket zooming toward me. She couldn't have been more than 2o, but what astounded me was the writing on her spaghetti-strap t-shirt. It was the name of my favorite band, the same band I write about in my book. I rarely see anyone wearing a shirt with their logo, so I yelled out the name of the band, with an "All right!" at the end of my exclamation.
The young woman rode past me without a flinch. It was as if I was on one side of a tinted window, clearly seeing her pass by, and she on the other, never noticing my existence. She was a rock star, and I, an invisible fan.
I wonder what it feels like to be a rock star, sitting in a limo, looking out at the fans through a tinted window. They can see us, but even without a tinted window, do we ever truly see them? Does the nature of celebrity preclude famous artists from ever being authentic with fans? Sting told Q Magazine in 1993, "Being on stage is a fucking war. That's not confidence you see, that's armor. It's not real." Maybe he's changed his tune over the years, but it prompts the question if the artist can ever roll down the window a bit and reveal their true selves.
But there is yet another metaphor "tinted windows" brings to mind. How often do we miss what's right in front of us because our beliefs or fears limit what we can perceive? How does our past tint what we see and feel right now? For me, my spiritual journey with a famous rock band allowed me to see that my heart had a huge tinted window surrounding it. For years, I looked at the outside of my heart through that tinted window, and only saw a reflection of my outer self. I couldn't see the repressed emotions hidden behind the window. But the band and their music ultimately helped smash the darkened glass so that I could finally see the unresolved pain that my heart was holding onto, and then let it go.
Music has the ability to break through our mental illusions and distortions. It sorta makes me want to sing, "I can see clearly now, the rain has gone. I can see all obstacles in my way. Gone are the dark clouds that had me blind. It’s gonna be a bright (bright), bright (bright) Sun-Shiny day. " ("I Can See Clearly Now," written by Johnny Nash). Yet on those bright, sun-shiny days, what helps us see things more clearly without fear of getting burned? Tinted Windows.