It’s hard to believe that this site has been around for 10 years. During our formative years, I found myself getting to know the ropes of the local scene in a cluster of bars in Old North Columbus. As I got to know many of the regular acts who patronized those bars, one name came up on a regular basis; Anyway Records. Tuned Up would later cover LPs released via this local label, among them Mary Lynn, Counterfeit Madison, and St Lenox.

The man behind the label is a certain Bela Koe-Krompecher. Love, Death, & Photosynthesis is his memoir.

I’m in my early 30s, and didn’t really follow the Columbus scene until I graduated college in 2011. So there was a definite era of powerpop, grunge, and punk in Columbus that preceded the boring glitz of the new Short North and the housing and population boom that is ongoing. What is now Standard Hall, a post-grad-yuppie bar bonanza, used to be the hole-in-the-wall Stache’s. Stache’s and Bernie’s, a basement club on Ohio State’s campus, served as two focal points for much of what Bela discusses in this book.

He strikes me as a kindred spirit that is honest and very, very open. In fact, at first I wasn’t sure if I liked this book due to what I perceived to be oversharing. Bela lived the rock and roll lifestyle in Columbus from the perspective of a super-nerd. Being a super-nerd is something I can relate to. The “sex, drugs” in “sex, drugs, rock and roll” thing—not as much. But I’ve always been a straight-laced guy. But, being a misfit who finds solace in music—particularly, undiscovered music? That I can relate to. Bigtime.

This book certainly isn’t for kids, or for everyone. As I mentioned, he’s very open about it all. His rough childhood. His romances. His friendships. And of course the music. I can relate deeply to having a group of local friends I can rely on to back undiscovered talent I’m passionate about. For Bela, it included names like Gaunt and Moviola. For me, Playing to Vapors, Ghost Soul Trio, and The Castros have been mainstays, and for awhile Donato’s Basement was my Bernie’s or Stache’s—I was always there, and it become my go-to venue for hosting Tuned Up events.

As I read this I can’t help but think of my own experience with promotion. It’s so rewarding, but insanely stressful. Pondering Bela’s tough background, where the music is all he had sometimes—it seems understandable how he fell into some coping mechanisms. Even with my own buttoned up upbringing, show promotion is something that has driven me to panic attacks. I can’t honestly say I have a genuine understanding for why people fall into substance abuse given my own story, but reading this was eye opening at least. I had a hard time knowing how to articulate this thought, as I didn’t want to seem insensitive or draw any offensive comparisons—however, this thought process was striking enough I feel the need to bring it up.

Two main characters in Bela’s life story pass on, and you know this is coming from the get-go. The way the book reads, he tends to skip around years in a semi-stream of consciousness manner. These impending deaths seem to cast a shadow over the stories, as you never quite know when he’s going to address them. When they finally do hit, it’s not a huge gut punch, but it’s certainly not enjoyable. Yet there’s a weird sense of closure all the same, even though the outcome is tragic.

After reading I’m left with a sense of melancholy. In spite of our differences in outlooks, I feel a kinship with the man. I was raised evangelical Christian (and still am), but some challenges I had early on in life have resulted in feeling like a misfit. In a sense diving into the local scene was one of the first times I felt able to be weird without being told I was weird. I’m glad for the security Bela has in family these days, but feel sad for the trials he had to go through to get there. At the same time, however, the blunt honesty in this book was often witty and entertaining. The revolving cast of characters therein each seemed very human, and not a caricature of anything. At the same time, I feel incredibly naïve about the rough ins and outs many who are dedicated to the culture go through, and am painfully aware of my tendency to perhaps oversimplify the solution to some folks stories: “just get sober!” It isn’t that easy.

In short, there’s a part of me now that wishes I could travel back in time to experience this bygone era of rough-around-the-edges midwest rock. Bela has been through the wringer, but that journey has led to some great discoveries and ultimately shaped the musical journeys of countless others, myself included.

Love, Death & Photosynthesis is out now and can be purchased here via Don Giovanni Records.

Bela is pictured below; the photographer is Kim Rottmayer.