Christian Zachary Geddes

Christian Zachary Geddes was born December 3rd 1974 and died December 21st 2004. At nineteen he became a father and his baby boy would soon become one of the most important things in his life. By his early twenties he was working hard day-in and day-out to make ends meet. Like many who feel the burden of life heavy upon them, Zach found solace in what simple and destructive pleasures a man has at his means. He was a poet, a musician, a dreamer and a junkie. The depth of humanity in all its wretched beauty was the flame that drew Zach like a moth. At the age of 26, he blew out his knee snowboarding and was prescribed opiates, marking the beginning of the end. A few years would pass where the gates of creativity were knocked off their hinges, and he poured forth a deluge of bittersweet musings on paper napkins and coffee-stained notebooks. In late night recording sessions he'd strum a three-stringed rusty guitar, bang on trash can drumsets, and wail his heart into a 1950's bullet mic. His music is raw, bleeding raw and muddy and brimming with more humanity than most music one finds today, it comes across as some kind of mix between Tom Waits, early Beck, Bob Log III, tossed with Ernest Hemingway and the beat poets.

Zach was deeply troubled by the moral sickness of a world that was moving too fast, too hard and too soulless. He took joy in simplicity, was never unkind, very pleasant to be around, and often very humorous and witty, but deep inside Zach lived the tormented poet. In a tattered notebook, one will read the line "the only good poet is a dead one." Zach was a defective poet, and it is exactly this defect that was the source of his pain and the source of the heartrending beauty that his pain chased him towards. This was Zach, and like many shooting stars who burn bright and furiously, his light went out... and in the wake, we find a collection of poems and musical recordings.