"Assassin" or 3 Friendship Lessons to Bring Out Your Inner Child
- Themi Alexandra
- 1 day ago
- 8 min read
Every trip deserves the perfect playlist. For me it doesn’t get better than having a travel soundtrack. It’s like having familiar friends in my pocket to keep me company amidst my adventures. As the self-proclaimed “world’s biggest U2 fan” it was a great excuse to compile my favorites for my first international solo trip. And so the tradition began with Ireland back in 2013.
Not all his movies have aged well but if John Hughes did one thing spectacularly well it was marry a moment to a song. I can’t hear that first drum hit followed by the “Hey, hey, hey, hey” of Simple Minds “Don’t You (Forget About Me)” and not envision John Bender defiantly raising his fist in the air on the football field. We are what we consume. So maybe it’s the cinephile in me, the hopeful romantic, or both, but who doesn’t want to live their life with a soundtrack?!
I craft a playlist like an album: with an opener that sets the tone for what’s to come and a finale that ties a bow on the entire listening experience. In between these bookends I thread songs together based on tempo, lyrics, and mood. Last spring, the theme was California, so this amateur music supervisor strung together songs about California and songs from iconic California artists for a trip to Santa Barbara and Los Angeles.
THE CALIFORNIA PLAYLIST
I’m particularly fond of the rock section of this playlist. Joe Walsh of California rock royalty (The Eagles) kicks things off with his murky “Turn to Stone.” The song transports me to Venice Beach where teen surfers are skateboarding in swimming pools during a summer drought because of its brilliant use in the movie Lords of Dogtown, the fictional adaptation of the Z-boys skate team origin story.
“Turn to Stone” transitions to the equally overcast “Californication,” the Red Hot Chili Peppers ode to the unsavory side of the Hollywood dream. The album of the same name is their first I connected with because of the moody atmosphere and the harmony vocals that sounded like ghosts floating in the ether. In retrospect it’s clear to see that John Frusciante’s return to the band is what caught my ear. On “Californication” it’s his riff that sounds as sad as rain slowly sliding down a windowpane that gets me every time.
I wanted to contrast the grittier LA from Walsh and RHCP against the glossier LA of the 80s Sunset Strip. For a few songs, imagining what it was like during the heyday of hair bands. Mötley Crüe’s “Wild Side” kickstarts this turn of tempo and place. Vince Neil’s energetic vocal delivery and Tommy Lee’s driving backbeat get the sonic party started that ends with the cops breaking it up as you hear police sirens and the crowd chanting “Crüe!” close out the track.
Crüe leaves the crowd wanting more...and I can only think of one band that could satisfy this appetite…the one created by merging two local bands - Hollywood Rose and L.A. Guns - Guns N’ Roses. As a child of the 80s there is no more notable LA band for my proverbial money. They looked different, they sounded different, and for this adolescent girl, they were downright dangerous.
It doesn’t get more dangerous than “Rocket Queen.” As Axl Rose warns in the first verse “I’ve got a tongue like a razor, a sweet switchblade knife.” Axl’s coming in for the kill and so is the rest of the band bringing Appetite for Destruction to a memorable climax with the infamous bridge that features the sound of Axl having sex with drummer Steven Adler’s girlfriend in the studio.
From the ecstatic heights of “Rocket Queen” the playlist comes to a close with Joe Firstman’s “After Los Angeles” a song that lingers like a cigarette in an ashtray burning down to the filter. I fell for this album at first listen because it played like a book on tape: each song a story I never wanted to end. “After Los Angeles” is a man at the end of his tether asking questions he knows he won’t get answered but has to try. His vocals are as vulnerable as an open wound and every time I hear them it sounds as fresh as the first time.
MARIO & ME
My friend Mario brought me to Los Angeles. I write a lot about my experience on Remote Year and my Ohana that I traveled the world with that year. I met Mario on Remote Year but it wasn’t until more recently that our friendship truly bloomed.
I got Mario wrong, way wrong. Eight years ago in Cape Town my first impression of Mario was shy kindness. The kindness was spot on but now that I know him I would not call him shy. He thinks before he speaks, but he is not one to stay quiet. He balances his thoughtfulness with an equal measure of playfulness. Initially I mistook that playfulness for silliness and saw myself as too serious to relate.
I heard from Mario out of the blue a few years after RY ended. His relationship with the woman he came on RY with ended and he was feeling lost. According to Mario, he thought I could help him sort through how his story ends because I did yoga, watched Lifetime, and read a lot of books, or some such combination. We talked it out on our first phone call - Ohana making sure no one gets left behind. His heart eventually mended and we went back to living separate lives.
A few years later I’m on a solo trip in Sedona. As a solo disabled traveler having a guide was a necessity. Getting George as my guide turned a necessity into a gift. George was sage-like: easy to be silent with and when we did talk he taught me something in the most organic way. I put George at 60 based only on his gray ponytail, so in the final minutes of our hike when he shared he was 80, it only cemented his sage status because his wisdom was from a life well lived.
George casually mentioned which car was his as we pulled into the parking lot. As soon as I saw the avocado green VW van, it hit me, I just met an older version of Mario. Mario used to drive a VW van too. But it was more than a case of car twinning - it was about what the van represents. These free spirits both have a strong sense of self and a desire to live authentically. Later that day I excitedly left Mario a voice note letting him know I met his future self and he rocks!
That voice note was the beginning of a volley that continued for the next year and a half. A friendship took root over 1000s of voice notes. So when the Santa Barbara girls trip came up I was excited to layover in LA and hang with Mario IRL for the first time on his home turf.
People joke about picking someone up from the airport and the level of friendship implied. New bar: find a friend willing to spare you the flight. Mario offered to drive 95 miles one way to pick me up, only to turn back around to LA, so we could spend more time together.
FIND A FRIEND...
It’s Saturday morning and another beautiful day in Santa Barbara when Mario picks me up at the house I’d been staying at with my friends. As soon as he pulls up, I shout “M-A-R-I-O” and greet him with a big hug and anticipation for the next 48 hours we have together! We stop for a lovely breakfast in town before we hit the road for our little road trip back to LA.
Mario asked, unaware of my playlist, if I have anything I want to listen to…do I ever?! We left Santa Barbara behind to Bono chanting “Santa Barbara, Barbara, Santa Barbara” at the beginning of “California (There is No End to Love), a track as ebullient as a cresting wave with the kind of whoa, oh, oh, ohs that automatically make you want to throw your head back. I wasn’t kidding about being their biggest fan.
A few songs later we merged onto PCH to The Eagle’s “Life In The Fast Lane.” A moment even John Hughes would've applauded. One of those I couldn’t have timed it better if I tried moments made all the sweeter because of its spontaneity. As I looked out at the Pacific and let the song take flight I had a feeling - I knew this weekend was going to be something special.
For the next two hours, we talked, we laughed, and I sang my face off to the playlist. I sang with the joy of knowing every word and still getting them wrong because my excitement had my words tripping over each other. Find a friend who makes you feel safe enough to be your authentic self all the time.
And because Mario is Mario (someone who loves to question) he asked me about each song and why I included it or what I loved about it. That ride with those songs and his questions is an experience I won’t forget. To feel both safe and seen is the greatest feeling in the world. To have fun while doing it, even better. Find a friend who sees your joy and wants to explore it.
When the playlist reached “Sunday Morning” Mario joined in on the action as Adam Levine. Mario met my abandon. Neither of us cared what we looked like or how loud we were. We were both in it. Find a friend who meets you where you are.
CARPOOL KARAOKE
For the next two days Mario showed me many of the places we talked about in our chats over the years. As much as I enjoyed getting to see the places that matter to him, these sentimental spots quickly got overshadowed by our Carpool Karaoke sessions.
LA is notorious for its traffic and I loved that for us. The trip was never about an itinerary, but quality time. Our quality time happened to be time spent driving, trading songs we love like baseball cards, and singing the mess out of them.
Mario and I have a few crossover artists that we equally adore. One big one being John Mayer. During one of our drives I asked Mario which Mayer album is his favorite. 2009’s Battle Studies. So my next question was favorite song from it, which is kinda like a trick question because there are so many bangers, but Mario did not hesitate with “Assassin.” I squeal out a “yes” with a trillion exclamation points of excitement. One answer instantly brought us closer and changed the rest of the trip.
“Assassin” is my favorite song from Battle Studies too. A song that sounds like its name, slinky and stealth in texture courtesy of the marimba and skulking percussion. Add in the lyrical turnabout from assailant to victim at the end and I’m dead. The song works on every level in a seemingly effortless stroke of genius.
As we sat in traffic, we took “Assassin” for a spin. We sang from a place of shared appreciation for a song we love. Better yet, we sang from a place of freedom, knowing we’ve created a space for both of us to express freely (however off-key in my case). The song is a slow burn taking its time to get to a chorus that breaks the song open. As Mayer is singing the pre-chorus about getting in and getting gone, we locked eyes: as if to ask each other, “are you ready?” even though we already knew the answer.
“I was a killer, I was the best they’d ever seen. I’d steal your heart before you ever heard a thing,” we attack each word with fervor and shared joy. Inside the song together, we are loving life and singing as if life is but a song to be sung. Sometimes the joy is found when you go off the playlist and leave room to actually play. As it turns out I’m not too serious for Mario. He brings out the kid in me and that is the best kind of friend of all.
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