Fuel/Friends is 10 years old today (we got the means to make amends)
Ten years: On Josh Ritter, Pearl Jam, and finding my voice
Homecoming – Josh Ritter
I feel a change in the weather
I feel a change in me…
A decade ago today, I sat at my kitchen table on my pink Dell laptop in my new hometown of suburban Colorado Springs and I started writing a new blogspot called “I Am Fuel, You Are Friends,” named after a favorite Pearl Jam song. I never thought more than a handful of people would read it, but I had things I wanted to say that were withering in the silence of my kitchen.
And so I decided to write. For me, for music, for you, even though I didn’t know you yet.
Days are getting shorter
and the birds begin to leave
Even me, yes yes y’all
who has been so long alone
I’m headed home
headed home…
It’s ten years (and almost ten million pageviews?!) later, and I am so far now from where I was then. You’ve all been the best part of that long road, hands down. These last few weeks as the leaves change in Colorado, I’ve been listening to a lot of the new Josh Ritter album, Sermon On The Rocks. The parts of life that were withering ten years ago are growing in golden and full. The lyrics throughout this post are from his perfect song of homecoming, which has become my anthem in this season.
Lift the valley from the floor honey
little town into the sky
they’ll say that it’s a miracle
and you’ll know damn well they’re right…
Yesterday morning as the sun rose, I was driving along under golden branches that line my street and listening to Josh Ritter sing about his homecoming. I realized that this has been a sweet season for me of coming somewhat unexpectedly to a home within myself. I know Josh has been through similarly rough seas in the last few years, and this record is one where we both sing along to the idea of seeing land, of finding home.
I realized with a start that this is what I wished for a decade ago when I named this blog, even though I didn’t know it yet: Will myself to find a home, a home within myself; we will find a way. All of a sudden, I realized I’d found it — and I’d found it in the gratitude, in refusing to abandon wonder.
Nights are getting colder now
the air is getting crisp
I first tasted the universe on a night like this
So, I’m writing this from a different kitchen table, in a different house, and I am aware of how full it is to bursting. Full with the sound of clocks ticking from different rooms tracking the avalanche of a gift of moments. I hear the coffee pot whooshing quietly and the baseboard heaters gently clinking as they fill my house with warmth, with comfort. This morning I sat in the glowing dawn and stroked the still-soft cheek of my twelve year old son who is getting bigger every minute, I realized the overwhelming sweetness of living every moment as if it is the last time you get to do it. I wondered what the last time was that I picked him up and held him in my arms before he got too big.
I feel a change in the weather; I feel a change in me.
I also want tell you about how this has been a year of reconciliation for me, because I think it’s important to suture up hurts from old wounds and letting them heal. In March I was in Buenos Aires to visit a university program there and I found myself in the company of a wonderful human named Fede who has been reading this blog since back in 2006–almost the very beginning. He first found me through a Google search on Pearl Jam lyrics, and after almost a decade of following my meanderings from a different continent, he welcomed me to his city as more of a longtime friend than a tourist.
As we walked around that vibrant, gorgeous city of Buenos Aires that expansive Saturday, we kept talking about Pearl Jam, each knowing all the same details before the other person even finished the beginning of the sentence. We mused about specific live renditions of songs, the precise date of our first times seeing the band (11/4/95 and 10/25/2005, respectively) and what the first song they played at that show was, Ten Club Christmas singles album art, and the relative merits of their different drummers. We both remembered what Stone and Jeff were wearing in that picture Rolling Stone published during the Department of Justice hearings over Ticketmaster (pink button-down, backwards hat, dopey looks).
Drive east of Eden
’til we’d start to feel the west
we were never far from nowhere
you could see it from the edge…
Maybe it was just the liminality inherent in travel, but that was a wide-open day of different perspective for me. We sat at a cafe by the river and the conversation drifted towards the topic of anger in the world in general. “I don’t believe in anger anymore,” Fede mused in his soft voice. “I don’t know the point of it.”
I confess, you guys: I’ve been darkly angry and hurt for years about the falling out I had with Pearl Jam (or more accurately their management). It’s been years of letting a little sharp hard pebble of being wronged sit in my gut and burrow in and fester. At the time that all happened, I felt justified in my indignation because I really believed that fan enthusiasm was valuable and inherently good, and mine felt rejected — sealed with a legal cease and desist order. And that stunk. I felt small and maltreated in some other substantial areas of my life too at that point, and so the whole Pearl Jam debacle just got tangled up in the stinging sandstorm.
But I started thinking about Fede’s comments about anger as we walked, and the futility of it all, especially as we get older. As both of us ate helado and glowed to talk about the songs that we have both flowered up towards for so long, I remembered all the reasons why I loved Pearl Jam in the first place, the fervent and pure sentiments that made me want to name this blog after their song lyrics. They have played a huge role in my life, in my formation, in my musical raison d’être. And so in one very specific moment this spring, walking down a narrow Buenos Aires street, I decided to reconcile with Pearl Jam. I’ve carried that pebble of indignation around long enough, I don’t even recognize it anymore.
Fede and I made plans for me to find a copy of Cameron Crowe’s PJ20 documentary once I got back to Colorado (since I hadn’t seen it), and to watch together on FaceTime with a bottle of red wine on either end of the connection. As we watched the documentary, all my synapses blissed out. I was reminded of who I had been. I sang all the words, and remembered songs I hadn’t thought of in years. It may have been the entire bottle of Argentinian Malbec in me, but towards the end I cried.
The reconciliation, the homecoming, felt really good.
This will be my last post on this blog, this document and travelogue of my musical journeys this past decade, and I don’t want to go out with jagged edges; I don’t want to go out with any part small and bitter. I’ve found more connection and open-hearted joy and insight through the process of writing this blog for the last ten years than I ever could have imagined. I found my voice here (in a million important ways), and I feel profoundly fortunate to have gotten to share music that I love with you. We’ve been illuminated together, I hope — stars against the dark of cynicism.
Fuel/Friends gave me the means, and now the amends have been made. The fiery gyre that I felt chewing up my insides a decade ago, as my big, bright thoughts about music fell silent into the abyss, has ceased– and been replaced by a flourishing community of flesh-and-blood people that I tend to talk to more with my voice these days instead of my keystrokes. I may write every now and then in the future, but I feel like the time when I needed it is more distant every day, and I’m turning inward, coming home to myself.
Would you leave me a comment if you have a story about your engagement with Fuel/Friends from these last ten years that I don’t know? Writing into the ether is liberating and lovely, and also often anonymous. Some of my most worthwhile moments of the last decade have been connecting with all the beautiful individual humans who have listened and read along all these years.
I want to say thank you for — igniting things that matter along with me, for collectively recognizing the beauty and magic in music all around us, and for being friends.
It’s OK (Dead Moon cover) – Pearl Jam
“Sing loud ’cause it’s outside / sing loud ’cause you’re still alive.”
Virginia Beach, August 3, 2000
The air is getting colder now
the nights are getting crisp
I first tasted the universe on a night like this
Name: Heather Browne
Hi Heather,
Wow. I read this post and was immediately as involved as I always am when you write. As I read on, and saw that you’re coming to an end of sorts, I started saying out loud ‘no, no…no..’ and scrolling back to see if I’d misunderstood.
Anyway, like everyone else here I am happy for you – such an intimate telling of your life, of your changes, of your moving on, can only be congratulated and cheered.
I’ve been reading this blog and taking recommendations for about six or seven years. I’ve bought music from so many of the artists you celebrate here (all those lovely cds wending their way slowly to my little village in Ireland), and they’ve become a soundtrack to keep my flame lit even on dark and windy days. I keep going back to your piece about Phosphorescent’s Muchacho De Lujo (about two years ago?) and man, I keep playing that album. Every single time I cry; every single time I sing my heart out; every single time there is redemption.
You’ve gifted me with The Changing Colors, Typhoon, The Head and the Heart – wow, too many to mention. I will MISS your insight. I will miss your generosity to artists, I will miss those Chapel Sessions.
I wish every joy for you, and wish that each treasured moment of music you’ve given to all of us be reflected right back.
Thank you so much.
Síle
Síle — December 7, 2015 @ 2:31 pm
Hi Heather
It is so odd that tonight I thought I will look up Fuel For Friends and find that you are ending the journey you started on ten years ago. I found your blog through a Nick Hornby recommendation in The Observer and instantly connected with your passion for music. During a time of damage and pain it linked me to a wonderful purity of expression that reminded me of being young.Your soul just sang out in your words, touching so many readers with that burning desire to share and connect with the world around you. Thank you for writing. Thank you for talking about the passion as Michael Stipe might have said. In the words of the great heartbeat that is Bruce ‘Good Luck , Goodbye’ and ,whenever you hear Clarence’s scorchingly elegiac solo,think of your readers’ respect for you.
Russell
Russell — December 8, 2015 @ 5:15 pm
Heather! Like many of your readers, I’ve been following your posts for many years. I think I began in earnest in 2006, but maybe it was early 2007.
There are gazillions of music blogs out there. I’ve read a portion of most of them. Yours has been the one that continues to captivate me. Post after post. It’s not just the generosity of you and the artists for posting the songs to listen to, or download. That surely is appreciated. I know my trips with little or no wifi have left me very thankful for that. It’s not just those seasonal mixes, but man those are killer.
I will even venture to say that it’s not even the fact that you have helped introduce me to artists that, even in my job as a radio DJ at a pretty cool station, I have overlooked or somehow missed. That’s been great, too.
No. What I have admired most are your posts themselves. You definitely had a voice from the very beginning. You may have felt like you were working toward it, finding it, or something. But you had it. Your brilliance of writing, the passion, the excitement for what was to come helped reignite a passion in me for discovery.
Like many people do, I had allowed my life to wander away from that time when I used to wander to the record store simply to comb through the imported 12-inch singles and albums just looking for something that might turn out to be interesting. Reading your blog all these years has kept me thinking about what might be around the next bend, where my next favorite artist may be hiding, or that special song that will mean so much – even if just for that moment in time when I hear it for the very first time.
Your love of music has been met with the unbridled enthusiasm it deserves. I hope you never take down all the posts and comments that have accumulated. I still go back and read posts at random when I’m just wondering about music. It’s like combing through the record stacks at Home of the Hits in Buffalo in the early 80’s.
Like those who have posted before me, and those who will likely post after me, I’m sad to see you discontinue the blog. It’s been a source of comfort for me, and I love your insight and enthusiasm for music. I hope you’ll keep sharing it somehow, but I get that maybe it has become a bit of a burden, too.
Life. We’ve all got a lot of it going on. Just know you have touched us all. You have ignited our passion. You have made a difference.
Thank you!!
Chris — December 12, 2015 @ 6:05 am
Heather-
I have been following the blog for a little over seven years now, and have loved the music that you have introduced, the life that you report, and the style you author. So much of the music that my children (7,3) enjoy and ask for has come from you, and for that, I am forever greatful.
THANK YOU FOR ALL OF IT!
Oren — December 12, 2015 @ 12:37 pm
Thanks for sharing your love of music.
Thomas — December 12, 2015 @ 12:42 pm
A little more – your posts have introduced me to some music that I probably would not have heard if not for you – thanks.
Thomas — December 12, 2015 @ 12:44 pm
I discovered a lot of great music over the many years reading your Blog. Thank you and much continued success.
– Jeff
jeff — December 15, 2015 @ 8:22 am
I have to admit that I am sad to think of things wrapping up. You introduced me to a great deal of music that has since become my favorite songs, my favorite bands. Your autumn playlists get played year round, and they are the first things I share with new friends. There is a passage in the Dave Eggers memoir, A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius that talks about the need to build a lattice of friends to support you and look after you. Through music you have helped me achieve that. Through music I can talk about my life, and my joys and hardships. Your role in that can not be understated. Other than a sincere thank you, I am not sure there is a way to really express my appreciation. I guess maybe by sharing music with you? If/when you get the time, I would encourage you to listen to 4AM – by Richard Buckner, the album Devotion and Doubt probably my favorite of all. And for something more recent, Kitty Winn, from the new Advance Base album Nephew in the Wild. Combined, the listen will take 8 min and 49 seconds. I am going to go on record and guarantee you will find it a worthwhile investment. I wish you the best in everything. David
David — December 17, 2015 @ 1:54 pm
Heather, I came across your blog not long after you started and have subscribed to your RSS feed ever since. I recall it was Pearl Jam that helped me stumble upon the blog, but it was your energy and enthusiasm that kept me reading…and listening. I had recently begun to expand my musical interests after 5 or 6 years of only listening to bands from high school and college. It was fun, but the snarky elitism and detachment from most music criticism was off-putting. Your work and Paste magazine were my refuges from that elitism and I Iearned about many bands from you along the way. I wasn’t at all surprised to learn that we populated the Toad list serv together in the mid-90s and I loved reading your interviews and reviews of my favorite singer of the last 10 years–Josh Ritter who, of course, is featured in this post.
I can understand that it’s time to move on, but as you can see, you’ll be missed! I look forward to any posts and/or mixes you are able to share in the future. Be well!
And, yes, my name really is…
Jeremy — December 18, 2015 @ 2:13 pm
Found you years ago through PJ. Discovered Josh Ritter, Head and the Heart and many others. My iTunes thanks you!
J — December 20, 2015 @ 12:36 am
Heather,
I’m sorry to hear you’re wrapping things up with Fuel/Friends. I can’t thank you enough for all you’ve provided to me (and tons of other thoughtful, appreciative readers, if the above comments are any indication). I’m not sure how I discovered the blog, but the Stomp. Clap. Stomp. Clap. mix is the first Fuel/Friends product I recall loving. In going through my Gmail to trace a timeline of my F/F relationship, I realized just how many people I’ve shared that mix with –- it remains one of my favorite mixes of all time.
You’ve introduced me to the artists who have soundtracked my life for the last five years plus…where would I be without Typhoon, Josh Ritter, Tyler Lyle, Hey Marseilles, Frightened Rabbit (saw my first live FR show the night of a break-up -– terrible, wonderful), The Lumineers, The Head & the Heart, Bon Iver, Walk the Moon (how fun to have been loving their live shows since they played to about 20), Noah Gundersen, Caroline Smith (and on and on and on)? So many of my relationships have been enriched by the music you introduced to me. I can think of stories to accompany all the artists I’ve mentioned, and many more, but I’ll share this one extra-convoluted anecdote:
You, of course, tipped me off to The Lumineers in the early days, and I shared word of their greatness with my friends. A few of my NYC people hung around four weeks in a row for The Lumineers’ residency at The Living Room, and one night my friends sent me a shitty phone video of the band covering “This Must Be the Place (Naive Melody).” Some time later, I believe in the summer of 2011, I finally got to see The Lumineers play live at a tiny venue in Fort Collins. When they finished their set without an encore, they apologized for not having any more than one album of songs to play for us. But thanks to that shitty phone video, thanks to my friends, thanks to your blog, I knew better. We shouted for “This Must Be the Place” and Wes was all “Oh yeah! We do know that one!” Getting to hear one of my favorite songs covered by one of my favorite bands (from and in my favorite state) by my direct request is a pretty special something that could never have come about if not for you and your blog, and the way its influence has seeped out into and improved the universe.
Thanks for improving my universe. New content or not, there’s plenty of fuel in the blog’s ten years to keep me (and my friends) going for a long time to come.
All the best,
Mallory
Mallory — December 23, 2015 @ 11:12 pm
Heather,
I discovered Fuel/Friends one snowy January day about 7 or 8 years ago. That one afternoon exploring, reading, smiling, laughing and crying changed my life. Your mixes are so inspired. Such class. Such grace. I used to take long rides just to listen. So many good songs. So many good stories. I wish you well. My friend in Colorado I haven’t met yet.
Dave — December 26, 2015 @ 12:14 am
Heather,
A recent transplant to Kentucky, I was introduced to Fuel/Friends by a new co-worker in Summer 2012.
My wife and I were expecting our second child, while still deeply grieving the loss of our first.
And your blog. Your blog was salve. It was needed.
I contacted you a few months later to enter a Josh Ritter Album Club contest. Our daughter Naomi was a four months old by then, and I had danced her to sleep countless times listening to your mixes.
Mike Clark’s “Smooth Sailin'”, Bob Dylan’s “Not Dark Yet” & Edward Sharpe’s “Better Days”.
“Swim Club” by The Cave Singers, “Late July” by Shakey Graves, and “Must be in a Good Place Now” by Vetiver & Fruit Bats.
I wore them out.
Thank you for sharing music and your story with me.
With all of us.
I wish you only the best.
Matt E.
Matt E. — February 1, 2016 @ 9:27 pm
Heather,
I found this blog about 7 years ago – through hype machine, I think. I have loved your playlists and chapel sessions and they have helped me find new favorite songs, artists, & albums as well as solidifying my love for others. I can’t thank you enough for contributing as much as you have to the soundtrack of my life.
-Gill
Gill — March 17, 2016 @ 4:27 pm
Hi Heather, I am just seeing this post now because in my FB feed, on this day, was a link I shared with your 2011 Springtime mix. What a great mix, it is. In any case, I believe I stumbled upon your blog via Google way back and thank the heavens I did.
You have introduced so much meaningful music to me because that is what you post. Music that has meaning and emotion to you and you articulate so well. Sometimes in an esoteric way and sometimes in the simplest ways. And I relate to it.
So I thank you for spreading your passion, emotions and musings through music by way of I am Fuel, you are Friends…
michael
Michael Kim — April 18, 2016 @ 6:16 pm
I somehow missed this post in the craziness that was my somewhat selfish and miserable SF existence but I’m glad to be reading it today and thinking about you and your graduation this week and all of the things you’ve accomplished in the time I’ve known you. I still remember what feels like a hundred years ago in Boston, reading a “battle of the songs” of sorts on Dainon’s blog and clicking through to read about his opponent. She was cool and interesting and she liked the Counting Crows with the same unabashed emotions I felt about them. When I weirdly got a job in the place she lived and he offered to put us in touch, I felt like I was going to get to hang out with the head cheerleader. You are wonderful on the internet but you are better in real life and MY real life has benefitted more than you know from the circle you opened for me in C Springs, and the things beyond music that you brought into my world. I love you girl. So much.
Katie — May 17, 2016 @ 11:02 am
I saw Nada Surf last night in Washington, D.C., and of course thought of you because Fuel/Friends introduced me to Nada Surf back in 2008. I completely fell in love with that band and have seen them several times since then, including one unforgettable night in Berlin when we magically were in the same place at the same time in a foreign country. But they were only one of many musical artists I discovered thanks to you, and I thank you so much for your suggestions. I also got the chance to meet you a couple of years ago at a Joe Pug concert, and I still have the picture of you, me and Joe.
I haven’t monitored your blog as closely I used to–kids going off to college, a marriage failing, and a crazy job all combined to consume me for the past few years. I’m saddened to hear that you will not be writing as much but happy to know that your journey of the past 10 years has led you to a good place. I wish you nothing but warmth, happy days, and prosperity.
Best,
Kevin
Kevin Porter — June 2, 2016 @ 10:36 am
I’m still in denial (hence the lapse between your initial announcement and this comment). I’m hopeful something more thoughtful will come someday, as you have had a significant influence over my musical choices the last few years (I can’t even remember how long). But in case that day never comes, THANK YOU — for all the music and the words that expressed what I felt but couldn’t say. Good luck. Come back and see us sometime.
-David
David — June 20, 2016 @ 8:32 am
Thanks for the music – I wish you well in your future pursuits.
Thomas — August 7, 2016 @ 3:01 pm
The fact that I’m reading this post a year after it was written should tell you about how I loved this blog – I read it when I’m in the state of mind to expand my musical horizons. I take my music seriously and drink of it deeply so it’s rare and special when I’m ready for some more.
That’s what this blog was for me.
I’m sitting here listening to one of the most beautiful songs ever written – Holocene (so beautiful my breath catches in my throat the way it did when my wife and I first started dating and she’d walk into the room after not having seen her for a while) and, of course, I check your blog. Because you write the most beautifully about what the music means to *you*.
So, thank you, Heather, for all these years and words and introductions. I have several playlists with your seasonal mixed tapes and love them. Thank you for introducing me to Bon Iver and The National. Thank you for making me jealous af (that’s what the kids are saying nowadays, isn’t it?) of all the amazing live music you got to see.
Thank you.
Sammy Banawan — October 17, 2016 @ 11:17 pm
Two different posts from the blog solidified our kindred spirit. The first one was a play list that had the Redbird cover of an REM song ‘You are the Everything’. Best cover ever.
And then a bit later your reference to Northbound 35 by Jeffrey Foucault. One of my favorite stanzas ever:
We fought all night and then we danced
In your kitchen
You were as much in my hands
As water or darkness or nothing
Can ever be held.
You’ve turned me on to so many great, insightful, lyrical bands. Its been a fun ride…
Jon — November 12, 2016 @ 11:04 pm
So inspiring that 10 years ago you decided to do this for YOURSELF and now everybody gets to enjoy the gift of your writing. Thank you!
Zach Maxwell — January 10, 2017 @ 2:45 pm
Heather ! Thank you so much for sharing your love for music for all these years!
I was living in Telluride in 2010 and I found your blog- it truly ignited my soul. It gave me strength when I was in grad school, and made me feel connected to other people who loved music. I love your chapel sessions, thank you so much!
XOXO
Emily
emily padawer — August 1, 2017 @ 10:40 pm
Hi Heather, I came to your last post again today because of how much I absolutely love The National and how absolutely thankful that you introduced me to them and so many other bands and their music. I don’t remember when or how I started following your blog but I feel like it was from the very beginning because of a mutual love for Pearl Jam. Sharing this music journey with you has been so incredible. I remember winning your giveaway of the Nickel Eye 7″ and how thrilled I was and also name dropping you at the Head in the Heart’s first concert while on tour after they signed with Subpop and how much Josiah gushed about you. Thank you for everything and I can’t wait to see what the next year’s bring you of writing being you and I hope you find your way back to writing to us soon.
Katherine — September 22, 2017 @ 9:10 am
Hey Heather,
Really miss this blog, introduced me to so much beautiful music. I can’t thank you enough for the happy, poignant, somber, exhilarating and always thought provoking moments I have experienced from the music you have provided. I’ve been inspired to write and sing through your blog. I’ve been turned on to some brilliant musicians… that feeling of excitement waiting for the next mix. I wish you the very best in whatever your next project is.
Sean.
Sean — October 3, 2017 @ 4:28 pm
I miss your posts Heather. I keep looking here in the hope there will be something new.
I’m sure there is, just not here.
Keep smiling, and on occasion, I’ll keep checking.
Mark — December 28, 2017 @ 5:27 pm
I am fan Heather, and you have my dreamjob! Keep writing doll.
Psy Cathrin — February 11, 2018 @ 2:25 am
Wow, it’s been a while since I’ve checked this blog, but I wanted to leave a comment especially after seeing this post.
I stumbled on this blog sometime over 10 years ago. I was in high school and as introverted and shy as I am today — which is to say, very. Those were the days of Kazaa, winamp, and many dubious torrents. I got introduced to Josh Ritter, Brandi Carlile, Aloe Blacc, The Swell Season, and countless other artists through this blog. I trusted your taste and could feel how much heart you put into this blog. I didn’t grow up in a musical household, and am the possibly the most music obsessed in my extended family, and the genuine love for music your writing exuded made me feel at home.
I still think about this moment: as a teenager, I spent my summer job money to go alone to see Josh Ritter and the Swell Season perform in the cavernous Radio City Hall. The entire concert completed welled up my heart, and one of the final songs, “Low Rising,” the performers beckoned us to our feet to sing with them. It was a beautiful moment — hundreds of us coursing with melody and a stranger’s operatic voice overhead carrying me to harmonic bliss. It’s a beautiful memory and I doubt I would ever have been able to experience it without first hearing about Josh Ritter or the Swell Season from this blog.
Wishing you much love and luck, Heather. <3
Anon — October 22, 2018 @ 12:20 am
Heather,
It’s been almost 4 years since you posted this but I was drawn back to your site this morning. I saw Gregory Alan Isakov in a church in Newport, Rhode Island last weekend. While introducing “Saint Valentine” he mentioned that he enjoyed playing this song in churches and I was reminded of your Chapel Session. So here your blog is, still filling my house with great music after all these years. Thanks for everything.
Matt
Matt — August 3, 2019 @ 7:00 am