Moonshine & Honey: A Tribute to Living, Loving, Losing & Learning

The following is a piece by Carlos Barata, guitarist/vocalist for The Hook. The Hook will perform an American Foundation for Suicide Prevention fundraiser alongside Dogwood Last and Terez this Friday, June 1 at Godfrey Daniels as part of the Lehigh Valley Underground First Friday Concert Series.

Journalist Doug Larson said, “Nostalgia is a file that removes the rough edges from the good old days.” At the foundation of The Hook is a fond appreciation for nostalgia – remembering the good, the bad, the beautiful, the ugly, family, friends, co-workers, neighbors… the list goes on. I guess that’s because the four of us have a similar past (then again, aren’t we all similar?). What we want to do as musicians isn’t complicated or sophisticated — there isn’t some deep, underlying metaphorical meaning to our music, it’s simple and direct.  In many ways, we’re just trying to make something that we know touches on common ground.

When it comes to Moonshine & Honey, the passing of my Dad, João, is what ironically brought everything together since The Hook’s first run in 2014. The album’s artwork is an old photo of my parents dancing, and “Moonshine & Honey” is a direct reference to one of our favorite activities — making moonshine and honey from scratch.

The title track is a reference to a story my Dad used to tell about growing up as a poor kid in Portugal and picking oranges off of an old man’s tree. After repeat visits to the same tree, one day my Dad and his friends noticed a terrible smell once they reached the branches – the old man covered the branches in shit. In a wholesome way, the album turned a moment of death/loss/grief/longing into new life. Each song touches on common topics that we all make tireless efforts to work through on a daily basis — living, loving, losing and learning.

On February 28, 2017, my Dad died by suicide and, in a short month, I returned to the Lehigh Valley from Oregon to take care of my Mom and rewind. My Dad was 56 years old and a very loving father. To that day, we would still kiss and hug when greeting each other. I miss him terribly — it’s a very difficult thing to swallow. Music saves me on a daily basis. To keep it short, everyone was blown away learning about my Dad taking his own life. He was always laughing, smiling, joking, lending a hand or an ear (it’s a like Robin Williams story all over again).

My Dad came to America in 1981, born and raised into a poorer family, but rich in love (it’s unfortunate that most of his family is gone, and a majority to suicide). He married my Mom, became an American citizen, learned English, raised me, worked, worked, worked… that’s one thing I remember my Dad doing. He was always working to keep all things going.

My Dad was a handyman; an employee at Just Born who did everything, from ironing, to modeling at local clothing manufacturers for some time. He loved the movie Walk In The Clouds and often referenced The Lion King’s “Circle of Life” to ease most of life’s trivial concerns. My Dad loved music, an avid fan of Portuguese fado and Queen. He loved The Hook’s music, and even fiddled around on the guitar himself. He was a great singer, and is the only person I know that could make a beat using a small glass and a quarter. Tom Petty captures the essence of my Dad perfectly in “You Don’t Know How It Feels” – “My old man was born to rock, but he’s still trying to beat the clock.”  

While bittersweet, this experience gave us purpose — a reason to cut out the filler and focus on what makes us happy (and not necessarily how/when/where society or authority tells us to do it). There’s a ton of pressure from every angle, every day. The normal day-to-day struggles are enough, and yet, we’re challenged to think about issues that are way over our heads. We also like to express our opinions as fact, regardless of the circumstances. On top of that, we’re told that we can’t always trust our sources, let alone each other.

Have we ever defined what it takes to survive a culture of distrust? How can we be surprised that 123 people commit suicide on a daily basis?

Should the blame fall on the individual for not taking the necessary measures to dig themselves out? Should families and friends be held responsible for not doing enough? Are doctors not doing enough? Isn’t it time for a wake up call in the right places? There are constant conversations and debates surrounding mental health, but perhaps more energy should be spent on discussing day-to-day social and political health. Anyway, we’re not the experts.

While the core of all of this is devastating, it’s hopeful, intricate and oddly beautiful. In other words, if this didn’t happen, we wouldn’t be here. You wouldn’t be here reading this. By producing something tangible, we’ve paved our own way of adding to the conversation — through good music in communal places, where people can connect and remember what it’s like to feel together again. We’re grateful to American Foundation for Suicide Prevention, Lehigh Valley Underground, and Godfrey Daniels for helping us prove that making a difference is just a few emails and one strong community away.

On June 1, we look forward to creating an atmosphere of togetherness with the Lehigh Valley, remembering my Dad and those lost to suicide, any survivors, and raising as much money as possible for more research and advocacy in support of stopping suicide. 

$1 of each copy of Moonshine & Honey sold benefits AFSP through June 2018. 

The Hook is a four-eyed, feel-good original rock band from Bethlehem, PA. From roots to blues and rock to reggae, Carlos, Chris, Youssef and Joe pair a simple, sweet yet somewhat grunge-y sound with catchy hooks, harmonies and raw, accessible lyrics that make you feel good. For more information and their show schedule, visit www.readysetgethooked.com, or follow The Hook on Facebook and Instagram @readysetgethooked.

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