One of my earliest memories of music really hitting me happened when I was a kid — probably elementary school. I remember the first time I ever played air guitar, and that moment stuck with me.
My parents were really cool and let me have these lamps in my room — a lava lamp and another spinning light that threw colors all over the walls. I used to turn off all the lights, put on the Rare Earth album with the song “Get Ready,” and play it over and over again.
I’d jump off the bed, pretend I was holding a guitar, and just lose myself in it. There wasn’t even a lot of guitar in that song, but it gave me this feeling — like I needed to hold something in my hands and move my fingers. That was the moment I realized I didn’t just want to listen to music — I wanted to play the real thing.
That’s where it all started for me.