Jeg har netop ved et tilfælde opdaget at den amerikanske sanger og sangskriver Jason Molina døde i lørdags. Molina var manden bag alt-country-bandet Magnolia Electric Co. der i 2009 lavede albummet Josephine, som jeg var meget begejstret for. Men han var også alkoholiker, og det var det, der tog livet af ham.
About a year ago, it became abundantly aware to me what was going on. Jason is an addict.
It weighed heavy on me. I’d call his bandmates and mutual friends to get to the bottom of “what’s up with Jason.” It appears that his drinking had caught up with him in monumental fashion. Rehab in England. Getting arrested. Drinking. Being flown back to the states by friends in Chicago so they could keep an eye on him.
It was then (about six months ago) that the calls from Jason became…..just…..desperate. Without knowing that he was even in Chicago (he was still using his UK phone), I’d get disjointed calls. He’d sing new songs to me. He’d cry. He’d pass out. He’d laugh. He’d remember some stupid random story about us singing a song together on stage in Virginia. More crying. Dead air. Drifting. And again, this wasn’t the JMo I knew. It bothered me then as it does now.
Det er svært ikke at høre sangen ovenfor som en slags farvel og en slags selverkendelse. Det triste er at kun den, der har misbrugsproblemet, selv kan redde sig. Jason Molinas familie prøvede, og de prøvede vedholdende. Men det lykkedes ikke. (Det hjalp sikkert heller ikke, at Jason Molina som mange andre i USA ikke havde nogen privat sygeforsikring.)