A Dream come true

Time: 3 Years Ago
Place: Room 145,Hostel 5,IIT Bombay

I am browsing through the infinite collections of Music on IITB LAN.
I come across this song called Schism by a band called TOOL.I never really appreciated Heavy Metal so to say(At that time - I was heavily into Grunge) and this band was put into that category.Now,I can appreciate the foolishness in putting TOOL into any genre.Anyways, Three thoughts struck me as I heard Schism,my first TOOL song.

1. The drummer is really talented and the band is not trying too hard to impress as is the case with most of the heavy metal bands.
2. Unusual arrangement of guitars and drums with chaotic beat and rhythm changes.
3. This song would sound better LIVE.
   

and from there the wish to see TOOL live emerged.3 years later
I can still listen to this song and it has the ability to surprise me.
It's almost as fresh as my first time listen ---This is the magic of TOOL.

It never gets old.

For two years the only question I have hated is:
"So,did you go to a rock concert yet ?"
I have always said that I am waiting for the right band to come along,
I am NOT gonna go to a freaking Godsmack concert and
finally - I am gonna get my TOOL !

Time: 12 July,2007
Place: Tweeter Center,Mansfield,Massachusetts

Here is Schism for you to listen :

I know the pieces fit cause I watched them fall away

Mildewed and smoldering - Fundamental differing,
Pure intention juxtaposed will set two lovers souls in motion
Disintegrating as it goes - Testing our communication
The light that fueled our fire then has burned a hole between us so
We cannot see to reach an end - Crippling our communication

I know the pieces fit cause I watched them tumble down
No fault, None to blame, It doesn't mean I don't desire to
Point the finger, Blame the other, Watch the temple topple over.
To bring the pieces back together - Rediscover communication.

The poetry that comes from the squaring off between,
And the circling is worth it.
Finding beauty in the dissonance.

There was a time that the pieces fit, but I watched them fall away.
Mildewed and smoldering, strangled by our coveting
I've done the math enough to know the dangers of a second guessing
Doomed to crumble unless we grow, and strengthen our communication

Cold silence has a tendency to atrophy any sense of compassion

-between supposed lovers
-between supposed brothers.

And I know the pieces fit.