I remember the first time I heard Rage Against the Machine’s self-titled debut album.
I was a junior at a country high school. My brother and my best friend were deeply into punk rock, and I wanted to date this hottie college girl named Cheryl Carpenter.
I was all over the place, at times trying to fit in with the rednecks and the true-blue farm kids, and at other times trying to be what I saw my favorite others around me being.
I hadn’t really found a place for myself yet. Continue reading Raging for Twenty Six Years