Singled Out: Nik Frost's Deadliest Weapon
Some songs happen like the birthing of a child. Not unlike the bringing of a child into the world, Deadliest Weapon was conceived and brought forth from one of the most painful experiences I've ever had. I'd worn the love of my life down to nothing with my bulls*** and she was done. We'd been through it all at that point and it was unimaginable that she'd ever have the strength or courage to leave me but she had
I tried to win her back, first with humility, sobriety, eventually begging and of course, lots of flowers. She was unmoved. One night, face to face with myself, I realized that no amount of conjured charm or charisma could save the relationship. I walked up and down the stairs of my house, sobbing, dazed with the realization that she was serious this time. As the gravity of the situation continued to bring me to my knees, I heard a melody in my head. Then lyrics started coming. I ran down to the piano and started writing. For a furious 20 minutes the song flowed. Then I dried up. The song stopped pouring out. I tried to pump on my years of hard-boiled songwriting experience but I was drained; there was nothing.
Magically, from somewhere deep, the second verse of Lord Byron's "She Walks in Beauty" appeared on the page. See, very early in our relationship, when I started really falling for her, I bought her a silver, heart shaped pendant for Christmas and had part of the poem, the part which wound up making it into the song, inscribed onto it. She could see what a big deal it was that my road hardened ass had done something vaguely romantic and wore it religiously through all of the bulls*** we survived but made it a point to take it off around the time she'd realized she was over the relationship. Seeing her without the pendant made it obvious where her head was at a couple weeks before the final straw but I was too wrapped up in my own crap to see it.
For me, the song is a testament to the idea of music as noble and relevant: Through music, we can take the intangible, the nebulous and turn it into a living memory, a recurring experience time and time again. Something that, whether it takes up space on a computer or lives on a CD, is embodied. When times are rough and I'm angry because her clothes are hanging all over the dining room, I can always bring a track up on my iPhone, one that I wrote almost 3 years ago today, and remind myself how in love with her I was and still am. I listen to my beautiful child, her song, Deadliest Weapon, and it still brings tears to my eyes...