This is a benefit comp to help the dual causes of brain cancer and the Boston Marathon Bombing. Every last penny raised from it will be split between the One Fund (secure.onefundboston.org
) and the American Brain Tumor Association (www.abta.org
"Earlier this year a friend of mine named Jeff Bernoth, better known to some as the guitarist for Boston-area punk band Yo Ticonderoga, lost his mother to brain cancer. I brought up the idea of doing a comp so that the bands that wanted to help with a benefit show, but couldn't make the show, could donate a song.
In the wake of the marathon bombings, Jeff has asked that the proceeds go to both a brain cancer charity and to victims of the Boston Marathon Bombing. I think this album is good mix of mostly rare and new tracks from various bands across Massachusetts, New Hampshire, Rhode Island, and even one from Maine. I can't thank them enough for their generosity."
"The end of April will mark the 6 month anniversary of a day I'll never forget. On Halloween '12, my mother walked herself to the emergency room because she had been having problems remembering things. She couldn't remember any phone numbers, and she'd recently had her license taken away, due to an accident she couldn't explain. She covered 5.8 miles that day, and toward the end of the night the CAT scan results revealed that she had a tumor, curiously 5.8 centimeters in length, in her brain. A week later, the day after Obama won the election, she underwent surgery and it was discovered that she had what's called a glioblastoma multiforme (GBM), one of the most aggressive kinds of brain tumors.
The following months were surreal, charged with every emotion, and then she was gone on at two in the morning on March 9. About a month earlier I had planned a benefit for that same date (well it was supposed to be in February but wound up on 3/9 due to Hurricane Sandy), having no idea of my mother's expectancy, something I could put together at the Worthen in Lowell to ease the costs of the medical bills. What happened that night, safe to say, exceeded my fucking expectations. My friends had made t-shirts for the event, others organized a raffle and donated really amazing gifts, people from all walks of life who knew me or my mother were just warming the place up with kindness for the cause. The bands ruled. I still don't believe it actually. Every time I turned around one of my asshole friends was doing something amazing, wanting to help out in any way they could.
Enter Dave, who leading up to the event came up with the idea of a benefit compilation. Dave's a talented writer and a dedicated music lover, and he really pulled through on making this shit happen. I had nothing to do with it, to be honest I was afraid it would be too much work. But it was easy for me because I did nothing. He approached me with this idea at O'Brien's a few weeks before the benefit show, when neither of us really knew what it was going to be. Being what it fucking was, I thought, if this thing comes out, fuck hospital bills, we can make it a benefit for brain cancer.
I heard nothing from Dave for about three or four weeks, (my life's been scattered, I've been quite thoughtless) until when he called me an hour after I found out about what happened at the Boston Marathon. He said he needed to focus on something positive and was anxious to get the ball rolling on the comp. I said, Dave, we can totally make the comp a benefit to the families affected by the terrible events. I say this and feel qualmless, (not a word), and I'll tell you it is only because JudyJam was unfuckingreal, this benefit comp was not my idea it was Dave's whose heart was totally into helping out. At the same time, all of these bands joined to help out in the battle against brain cancer. Brains and Boston. 50/50, is the only reasonable solution I see.
And because I know my mother more than anyone, I know she wouldn't give a fuck. She'd want me to give it all to Boston but I still want to do this in her memory. Her own memory got worse and worse, and her language was very limited, but curiously she was able to sing songs she knew from beginning to end. She existed in every moment for the moment, without any idea what had happened earlier in the day. What made caring for her sometimes a delight (it might seem unsettling to have it put that way) was the natural enthusiasm she showed for things, like her family, her dog, her food, her friends. Every now and then, just to be sure, I'd ask her if she knew that she had no short term memory. She'd say yes. I asked her if she gave a fuck. She'd say no.
It'd crush Judy to know about the events that happened at the Marathon. She'd be behind me all the way. Brain cancer is terrible, brain cancer is fucked, as is so much in this world, including the events of yesterday. The banding together of people, helping out each other, something near and dear to all our hearts, and to Judy's heart which I am (I feel) somewhat in possession of."