In junior high and my early years of high school, I spent most of my afternoons in my bedroom doing homework (after a bowl of cereal and 30 minutes of DuckTales). My room was full of comic books and Legos and signs that I was gay, like the giant silk screen print of a unicorn hanging on the wall and the pornographic contraband under the mattress. I never listened to music when I was studying or reading, but my brother did. During his adolescence, he transitioned from an angry skate punk to an angry art class iconoclast, and his music transitioned from Minor Threat and JFA to Jane’s Addiction and Concrete Blonde. He played the latter’s album Free a few hundred times when he was a high school junior. And one song vibrated through three walls, into my brown and nerdy room, and it was burned into my brain: “God is a Bullet.” It also happens to be an awesome song. I ended up a huge fan and I saw Concrete Blonde more times live than any other act. But it always reminds of sitting in my bedroom and doing pre-calculus problems.