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Eddie Munson: The Rolling Stone Interview
In his most intimate interview in years, Munson tells all about the inspiration behind 'for my love, forever ago' , addresses the rumors of his hiatus, and much more
BY DANIELLE STARK
April 1998
Eddie Munson has been a household name in metal for the last decade. With his six studio albums, three North America tours and a shiny new Grammy for Best Metal Performance under his belt, he’s one of the hardest working musicians in the scene. I wouldn’t be surprised to see that the success went to his head a little, but Munson is as humble as ever. I introduce myself, and he insists I call him Eddie. He pulls my chair for me as we settle into our cozy little table right outside a cafe. The begonias above us and the dainty white carvings of our chairs clash horribly with Munson’s leather and chains, but he sits unbothered, confident.
“People always think I should only exist on stage and like, in gritty alleys,” he teases, incredibly perceptive. “But I can assure you I won’t burst into flames from some white furniture.”
“I better hope not,” I say. He orders a latte, and I ask for a glass of lemonade.
“So, let’s talk about your latest album, shall we?”
for my love, forever ago suddenly appeared on record store shelves with no apropos, and was an immense success amongst both the listeners and critics. It’s a record where Munson transcends genres like never before, and his most personal one yet. While A House in Hawkins is basked in longing, soft melodies, Mirage talks of a beautiful man over a surprisingly upbeat guitar. However, the biggest hit of the record is Dancing After Death, in which two lovers, separated by circumstances, get to be with each other in the afterlife. Meanwhile, the clear discrepancy between this record and his previous work has created some anxiety amongst listeners.
“There have been some rumors that this might be your last ever record. I’m sure that your fans would like to hear the truth straight from the source, Eddie. Are you quitting music?”
“I could never quit music. It’s a part of who I am. But I’m afraid there’s some truth to it - I will be taking an indefinite hiatus from releasing new music. I will continue making new songs, but at this point in my life some other things have to come first.”
“And would those things have any correlation to a certain figure you included in for my love ? The man you sing about in the track A House in Hawkins , to be precise?”
Eddie grins, bashful. “You’re a shark, Danielle. I will neither confirm or deny. House is about… sacrifices of the past. It’s not about regret, but rather about a what-if. We all have those, don’t we? Having choices and picking one is sometimes more haunting than having no choice at all.”
He sips his coffee, lost in thought for a brief moment.
“Is it too late for your what-if?” I ask. Munson seems caught off guard.
“I… I hope not. That’s what the record is for, anyway. It’s for my what-if, my always. It’s an open love letter.”
***
may ‘98
Steve woke up gasping. Neon lights and blood and needles were a whirlwind in his mind still. He panted at the ceiling for a bit, trying to calm down. Though it had been over a decade since Starcourt and the Upside Down, he still got nightmares on the most random nights. Trauma was strange like that - he had seen one too many ice cream commercials on TV with the summer approaching, and that must have brought up the Starcourt incident.
He reached over and turned over the bedside table, illuminating the room with a warm yellow light. The room was eerily still, the tree right outside his window unmoving. Suddenly, he could no longer sit in the deafening silence. If Levi had still been here… But he wasn’t. Instead, he threw the damp comforter off and walked over to the cassette player on the top of the dresser. In the box next to it, he had heaps of cassettes that he probably should have organized at some point, but it wasn’t an extensive collection anyway. He kept most of his music in the living room with the better boombox. There were only his absolute favorites in the box, and, well -
The thing was, Steve never really listened to Eddie’s music. It was painful, kind of like watching Nancy be happy with Jonathan back when he was still in love with her. Music was Eddie’s one true love, and Steve had been the collateral. Though he was genuinely elated for Eddie’s success, it hurt too much. Except, on nights like this, the need to hear his voice overrode that pain. He could never call Eddie in the middle of the night, so instead he kept cassettes of his music just for the nighttime.
He had just bought his most recent album, shamefully hiding it between his other purchases as if anyone but himself would know he was buying music made by his ex of over a decade. Not to mention, the name heavily implied that it was dedicated to some romantic partner. Steve had tried very hard not to hate himself as he handed over his hard earned money to the cashier.
He popped the cassette in and sank into his brown leather armchair, curling up into himself. It was unorthodox to listen to metal to calm down, but it wasn’t like he had any roommates to worry about. He hadn’t rented out any rooms since Levi, he hadn’t needed the money anyway. He listened to the first two tracks without really paying attention, his eyes fluttering with fatigue. He had been having an intense week with the finals coming up for his kids, not to mention helping out with last minute preparations for Max and Lucas’ wedding. Eddie’s voice undid a knot in his chest, helping him breathe easier.
The next track opened with dulcet tones. Steve sat up, intrigued. Though Eddie had played a couple acoustic songs to Steve over the years, he had never recorded a song that soft. He listened, frozen, as Eddie sang of losing his love, of painful choices, of a house in Hawkins. He listened as one track melted into another, as melodies and lyrics changed, but never the topic.
Eddie was singing about him.
Song after song, he was singing about Steve. He breathed shallowly, his hands shaking. Eddie couldn’t be singing about someone else, could he? It was pretty clear - hazel eyes and broad shoulders, star crossed lovers, a house in Hawkins. It had to be Steve. He ran to the phone before he could think it over.
“Eddie?”
“Steve? Is everything all right?”
“It’s about me. You wrote songs about me.”
For a second, Eddie was silent. “I wrote the entire album for you.”
“ For me?”
“Steve, I…” Eddie’s voice cracked. “I didn’t think you would listen to it. I mean, I hoped, but…”
“I listen to all your music,” Steve said.
“You - what? You never said anything.”
“What was I supposed to say? Eddie, I’m just a little confused right now. Why did you make an album about me?”
“I just - I can’t talk about this over the phone. Can I come to see you? Tomorrow?”
Steve frowned. “You don’t have work to do?”
“I have some time. Can I come see you?”
Steve sighed. Even though his first instinct was to say yes, he didn’t want to sleep with Eddie just to watch him walk away yet again. “Ed, I don’t think -”
“I just want to talk, I promise. This is important. Just let me see you? I don’t have to stay with you if you don’t want to,” Eddie pleaded.
Steve ran a hand through his hair. “Okay,” he agreed softly. “I still have work, though. I’ll leave you a key, you can let yourself in.”
***
Eddie’s shoes were lined up neatly by the door when Steve came home the next evening.
“Eddie?” he called out. Nobody replied. Silently, he checked the living room. Like he predicted, Eddie was asleep on one of the sofas, still sitting up like he had been intending to wait for Steve. Surprisingly, his cat Fiona, who never really liked anyone but Steve, was laying curled up by Eddie’s hip. She purred at Steve, and he gave her a pet as he gently laid a throw blanket over Eddie. Though they had important things to discuss, it could wait until Eddie woke up.
It took only about half an hour for Eddie to find him in the kitchen, drinking coffee by the island.
“Sorry I fell asleep on your couch,” he said, rubbing his eyes.
“S’okay, I know you must have been tired. How was your flight?”
“Awful.” Eddie shrugged. He reached over and tentatively took Steve’s hand. Steve gave an encouraging squeeze.
“Eddie, what did you mean when you said that the album was for me?”
Eddie sighed. “No beating around the bush with you, is there?”
Steve gave him a look. “You wrote an entire album. I don’t think the bush exists.”
Eddie sat down across Steve. “I just… like, I don’t think I could regret my career. I love it so much, I love making music so much. I just regret it cost me you. I regret it cost me the life you envisioned for us. I was already in love with you by the time you bought this house, y’know that? I don’t think you do. It hurt like hell to walk away, it hurt worse to know I was making you suffer. I just knew I couldn’t be putting us through this for nothing so I worked my ass off. And you moved on, eventually. And I… I was happy for you.” Something complicated passed through his face.
“You never called,” Steve said. “After Wayne. You never called.”
“I was high,” Eddie shrugged with a self-deprecating smile. “Then I wasn’t. But you were happy. I got your news through the kids, so I didn’t want to intrude. But I also realized I couldn’t move on the way you did. I couldn’t find someone to build a life with. I don’t resent you for doing that, don’t get me wrong. I never really fell out of love with you, but I realized there could never be anyone else. You had - you had him , though, and you deserved to be happy. But you guys eventually broke up, and I thought I could take a chance. Y’know, let you know how I feel, in case you might listen to my new music before meeting someone new. And you did.”
Steve gripped Eddie’s hand tighter. “I did.”
“Do you feel the same, Steve? Do you think… Do you think we could try again?”
Steve bit his lower lip. He gripped Eddie’s hand tighter. Eddie’s hopeful eyes were on him.
“Eddie, I… I don’t think I ever fully fell out of love with you, either. I loved Levi, I really did. I chose to love him, though. I didn’t choose to love you. It was inescapable. You were inevitable. It hurt too much to love you, once you were gone. I survived that hurt once. I don’t think I could survive it again.”
Eddie dipped his head low. Sniffed. He tried to subtly dry his eyes. “Yeah,” he said bitterly. “I can understand that.”
Steve rounded over the island and kneeled in front of him, gently grabbing his chin. “I’m not saying no, Ed. Life is too short to push this chance away, we know it best. I just… I’m gonna need some time. I’m gonna need you to make me believe you’ll stay, this time.”
Eddie slid down from his seat to kneel on the floor across Steve, his hands finding Steve’s again, grabbing them tightly. “I’m gonna stay. I’ll prove it to you, I promise. I’m here to stay, baby. I don’t ever want to leave again.”
He pulled Steve into a desperate kiss, as if he was trying to convince him of his honesty. Steve responded with the same intensity, his hands burrowing into Eddie’s messy hair. He had thought he could never have this again. He had thought Eddie was the one that got away. He had thought he would mourn what could have been till the day he died. Now, in his arms again, he was so scared that Eddie would walk away again.
“You’re crying,” Eddie murmured, sounding devastated.
“You wrote an album for me. Now you’re here and want me back. I just… I’m overwhelmed.”
“I know. Sorry.”
“What are you apologizing for?”
“Making you cry.”
“It’s okay. I’m just happy you’re back. And a little scared.”
“Me too.”
“Why are you scared?”
“Because you might decide I’m not what you were hoping for, after all.”
“Eddie… Come on, don’t make me spill my feelings all over the floor here. You know how I feel for you, or else you wouldn’t be here.”
Eddie kissed him again. “Come on,” he said eventually. “My knees hurt here on the floor. We’re not as young anymore.”
Steve laughed. “Speak for yourself, old man.”
Eddie gave him a look. “You little shit.” And just like that, they were chasing each other around the house like they were teenagers again.