I had taken amphetam*nes and drunk some vodka in an attempt to deal with my nerves - it was my first drink after a year of sobriety in which I'd concentrated on writing music.

Before this, I'd experienced problems with drink and had been sent for treatment at a centre dealing with alcohol and drug problems. I completed three weeks before walking out, convinced that my interest in music would keep me sober and fill the gap alcohol had left. Throughout my subsequent year of sobriety, I became more and more withdrawn, isolated and alienated from other people. I had no idea why this was, and remained completely unaware that the problems of an alcoholic / addict don't end with putting down the dr*g of your choice.


For a while I only used alcohol or drugs when I had to perform. We were signed to Food records and EMI publishing - a dream come true. But I found meetings difficult. If I didn't drink, I couldn't say anything and I'd go away feeling frustrated and angry with myself. In the studio I was also experiencing problems. I had strong ideas about how the songs should feel, but found this impossible to explain. I couldn't contribute as much as I would have liked - but instead of attempting to learn ways around this, I internalised it and went off on a roller coaster of self pity, resentment, anger and drink.


Interviews with the music press were a nightmare. My work is very personal and I found it near impossible to discuss it with anyone, let alone with journalists. I felt I had to try, so I came up with a plan to overcome my lack of confidence: I experimented with varying doses of alcohol, speed and valium in order to produce a state where I could become lucid about my work. I literally fell asleep half-way through an interview with the NME (thank God it was never published), so the next time, with Melody Maker, I took so much amphetam*ne I couldn't speak at all for about 20 minutes and when I did, it was vaguely suicidal and extremely confused to say the least. After many failed attempts, I eventually tried a Melody Maker interview straight - all I can remember was that I sat there shaking. 

My work is very personal and I found it near impossible to discuss it with anyone, let alone with journalists...In Britain, how you come across in the press is ridiculously important to your chances of success, and even though we had received a lot of support, I couldn't help but think when I read my interviews that I was somewhat inadequate; I seemed unable to communicate what my songs really meant. Also, I would take the slightest criticism in the press as proof of this. 

In Britain, how you come across in the press is ridiculously important to your chances of success, and even though we had received a lot of support, I couldn't help but think when I read my interviews that I was somewhat inadequate; I seemed unable to communicate what my songs really meant. Also, I would take the slightest criticism in the press as proof of this. I would be deeply hurt and throw myself into drug and alcohol binges. 

Other bands who were doing well all seemed to have singers with a very different personality than my own. Or was it that they could feign that they were cocky, self-confident and content in a shallow sort of a way without a glimmer of self-doubt? I knew our songs were genuinely different and genuinely good, but I couldn't just seem to strut around like a walking advertising board for them - it seemed crass.

I stopped reading any music papers and told my manager I couldn't do interviews. My self-esteem was plummeting now due to drinking. I felt more and more inadequate and needed a drink just to be on my own. I was drinking every waking hour and taking amphetam*nes to keep me sober enough to function. I had become consumed with the fear of failure and carried around a feeling of impending doom that rarely left me.
Somehow I had got it into my head that my inability to operate in this music press-type world would lead to our failure and our ability to release records would ultimately be taken away from us.
I did, however, feel a sense of achievement at the live performances. Here was a sense of freedom and a chance to sing the words I'd written. It was a real release and, for a while, the one thing that got me through. I am eternally grateful to the people who turned up and gave me the chance to do this. But I was beginning to lose control.
I was sick and tired of being sick and tired. My personal life was now in tatters - and I decided my last chance was to throw what was left of me into our album. Something was left in me that wanted to do something positive. Thank God. To work on songs, I would force myself to straighten out, I'd take valium for a few days and shake and sweat and vomit my way into a sort of sobriety. I would reduce the valium, eventually facing the terror of being straight, and wait until I could write. I'd work until I was satisfied with what I'd done, then reward myself by sinking back down into self-destruction.
This process happened on every one of the songs on the album. However, with the support and genius of the rest of my band and producer Paul Corkett, I was involved in creating a brilliant album, Love And Other Demons, which I am immensely proud of. Shortly afterwards I was booked into a rehabilitation clinic.
This, I am sure, has undoubtedly saved my life. I no longer fear failure but truly believe we can and will take Strangelove anywhere we want now. Although I still have bad days and still experience fear, depression and self-doubt I deal with it differently now. Thank God.
by Patrick Duff (left)
of Strangelove
for The Guardian
7/6/96


这封信看完了~
灌水灌水

嗷嗷 我有精华帖了

哎哟喂，muse大吧吧主还卖萌~
稀罕我个小破吧的精华~

不行了。。。
你这个表情太逗了

呵呵，帮俺们小破吧在MUSE吧宣传一下啊
看谁想要的，你可以转发给他们啊~
还有，我会告诉你，俺乐队主要就是在翻唱muse么

求人工翻译 一整面的外星文文 扫一眼就头大