My Google calendar goes back at least to 2006, which is how I know what exactly I did 15 years ago. I was soon to quit my day job at the newspaper, and I had a lot of plans: my band the Doubleclicks had gigs on Sunday and Friday, a ukulele lesson on Wednesday (good for me!), and the ever-important annual “Talk Like a Pirate Day at Salvador Molly’s with PDXYar.” At that event, grown men dressed as pirates would eat extremely spicy and large jalapeño poppers in a limited period of time to win a challenge (they would all lose) and then drink milk out of a carton (it didn’t help). Classic Portland stuff.

By the way — If you still have your diary or calendar from 2011, please go look at it and tell me if you would still do any of those things today. I know my answer.

I remember that being a rock star was awesome, and I remember that it was also intense and confusing. My stage outfit was a costume, even though it was just a dress and leggings. I knew that my “Doubleclicks persona” was not really me, but also, I didn’t really have a different “persona.” I didn’t have a lot of interests or hobbies outside of The Band, and I also was annoyed that nobody “knew who I really was.”

My songs were deeply, incredibly honest and personal… but after I wrote a song, within a month or so — I had a hard time remembering what I was actually trying to say. It’s like my brain had an emotions-and-truth limiter on it.

When we played a show in a big room with everyone singing along, it all felt true and lovely in one big chord of truth. But if I took a step off stage, I really had a hard time understanding what had just happened. Had I written those words? What were we talking about?

This discordant static in my head turned louder and louder static over the 15 years that we were in our band. I didn’t like to describe or sell us, because genuinely, I didn’t know what we were doing.

And yes, there’s a gender things too — being a girl band was a huge part of our identity, but I truly felt embarrassed whenever I took credit for being a woman. I didn’t earn that.

Thankfully, I did eventually find myself a solution. I realized that being a girl didn’t spark joy, and 8 years later I threw that gender into the garbage, changed my name to Laser, and transitioned.

I finally was a person and I felt like a person, although after that point, playing our music got even weirder for me.

I had even less of a relationship with these songs than I had before. I knew that the audience and I could see each other’s souls… but if I stopped for a second, I didn’t really even know what I was saying.

Writing a setlist was my least favorite thing. “All of these songs suck, especially the ones everybody keeps requesting.” Rehearsing more often than not triggered my panic attack mechanism. Gigs always made me at least a little defensive. How can I be THIS PERSON and sing THAT PERSON’s songs? These songs are terrible, and cringe, and embarrassing… right?

And for this reason and many others having to do with the year 2020, although it was our most reliable source of money, we stopped for a while.

And thank god, because now that I’ve taken a break… I finally understand the Doubleclicks. and I’m a fan.

Not just because “to be cringe is to be free,” which is huge. But also, because the spirit who wrote these songs knew exactly what they were saying, how they felt, how to express it. The writer in my head was a pure ball of light and rhymes and truth. The reality was and is stupid, and I never learned enough chords on my guitar, but I’m really, really proud of the 20-year-old kid who wrote down his feelings every week and shared them with the world.

And honestly, he was right. Hanging out with cats at parties? It slaps. Not fitting in? That’s one of the big feelings that everybody has all the time. And you are going to have to remind yourself to calm down and love yourself, every day, forever. It’s simple, but it’s important. Do the things you love, that is all we have.

If that means you’re gonna watch a bunch of drunk pirate cosplayers cry into their milk… I mean, good for you. That’s not for me, but honestly, I’m so thankful I know that now.

xoxo

Laser