Over the past year, it has become clear to me that one of my most appreciated songs is "October." I can't think of a time when I've been on stage (with Collapsis, Athenaeum or otherwise) that I haven't heard some fan, somewhere out in the crowd, requesting this song I wrote back in 1994. "October" has quite a history.

The events that inspired the song are by no means extraordinary. It's pretty clear that the song is about a personal relationship. I think anyone would make that assumption. One summer between my freshman and sophomore year in college, I had been seeing a young lady who I knew from high school. Although she was home from college for the summer, she was soon to go back to school quite far away. Once that happened, things changed. By October, we rarely talked.

I remember the day I wrote "October" with great clarity. I had just gotten out of a poetry class on Wallace Stevens taught at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill. We talked a great deal about how Stevens felt that the seasons reflected various aspects of humanity. I had an appointment to get my car worked on that afternoon, so I brought along a composition book to write some thoughts down. While sitting in the waiting room of Upchurch's Tire and Automotive, I wrote what would become "October." Originally, I thought the lyric would be just poem that I'd keep in a drawer somewhere.

When I got back to my dorm room (203 Morrison Hall) I tried singing the poem with my guitar. Three of us played guitar in my suite on the second floor and we all discovered that singing sounded better in the shower. I climbed into the moldy shower stall and played some chords. I thought I was ripping off both "Learning to Fly" by Tom Petty and "Frances Farmer Will Have Her Revenge on Seattle" by Nirvana, if such a thing were possible. When I finished, the song seemed complete. "O.K., I have a new song called 'October'," I thought.

Later that week, I had a show at the Skylight Exchange in Chapel Hill. I was going to release my first CD in two months, but I thought it would be good to introduce some new songs into my acoustic coffee shop set. I played "October" and it got a great response. When I released Building A Hole in December of 1994, I remember many of my fans being disappointed that "October" wasn't on the album. I guess that made it somewhat of a priority for if and when I did a second CD.

Through 1995 I continued to be a student at UNC. I toured in support of Building A Hole throughout the Carolinas on the weekends. "October" was in just about every set, along with songs like "Crocodile" and "Orange." It was in October of 1995 that I first saw something new in the song. "October" resonated within my life, but under different circumstances. There I was in October of 1995, in the midst of another failed relationship. I remember walking Franklin Street in Chapel Hill on Halloween night that year, dressed as a matchstick. It was a miserable costume donned under even more miserable circumstances. My thoughts drifted to my song. I decided that I needed to construct a good recording of "October." For the next several months, I thought about the right way to go about doing just that.

I had already begun recording a project with John Plymale at Overdub Lane in Durham, NC. By October of 1995, I had recorded four songs, but they weren't as exciting as I would have liked. While recording with John Plymale, I stumbled into a band called Kickball. This recreational band featured yours truly on bass, John Plymale on drums, and John Gillespie on guitar and vocals. It was through John Gillespie that I was introduced to Nic Brown and Mark Kano. I had seen Mark and Nic's band Athenaeum a few times in some Greensboro and Raleigh clubs. It wasn't until May of 1996 that I realized that Nic would be perfect to play drums on "October" as well as the rest of the tracks that were troubling me during this particular session.

I remember approaching Nic after an Athenaeum show at the Brewery in Raleigh, NC. I said, "Nic, I'd like for you to play drums on a song of mine." He agreed, in his rather unique way. If you've ever met Nic, you know that he's a cross between a "Bachelor Party" Tom Hanks and Gary Oldman. That's not really important to this memoir. We would go on to be roommates for nearly four years in the basement apartment at John Gillespie's mom's house. That's also not important. What is important is that I wanted him to play the pattern he struck at the end of the Athenaeum song "Away" for most of the song.

During Nic's drum session at Overdub Lane, the tone of the album The Lessons of Autumn drastically changed. What was on course to be a mellower Building A Hole became a tasteful acoustic pop album. I couldn't believe how well Nic was able to play over the existing acoustic tracks. "October" sounded particularly full and exciting. I remember telling Plymale that I wanted to add an electric guitar part. As I played a sloppy version of the riff that appears throughout the song, Mark piped up with, "Hey man, you should play it like this." He proceeded to play what I can only describe as an Athenaeum-like version of that same riff. Then, Mark doubled it and the part sounded even fuller. After that, I felt the song needed a big ending. I picked up Mark's Les Paul and plugged into the JCM 800 out in the studio lobby. Plymale was quick to mic up the amp and we rolled tape. After a few takes and a great mix, we had the version that would appear on The Lessons of Autumn.

Once The Lessons of Autumn was released in October of 1996 and I began to develop an entirely new fan base, I got the idea to go for more of a "band" sound. Because Mark and Nic were in the middle of negotiating their own record deal as Athenaeum with Atlantic Records, they were unavailable for a permanent role in a band with me. Although, we did enjoy playing shows under the moniker The Happy Annies along with John Gillespie. I began to seek out band members. Within a few months, things really started to pick up. "October" was my biggest bartering chip in rallying people to my cause.

A year and some change later, I found myself in a band called Collapsis that was signing a record deal with Cherry Entertainment and Universal Records. I remember sitting in a plush boardroom in Santa Monica, CA, overlooking the ocean one October evening in 1997. Sitting on one side of me was a man named Doug Morris, who, for all intents and purposes, is one of the most powerful record executives in the music business. Sitting on the other side was my manager from Raleigh, NC, Andy Martin. A woman named Jolene Cherry, who would go on to be my A&R rep with Universal, was about to play "October" for Doug. As the song rolled, he seemed interested in it. He said to me, "Hey, you gotta home at Universal Records." After having a lawyer look at the deal, I signed it. Who wouldn't?

From 1997 to 2001, I fronted the band Collapsis. During that time, we played close to 400 shows. I can only think of one in which we didn't play "October." That show wasn't really a show as much as it was an illegal tough man contest 30 miles west of Biloxi, MS…another story altogether. In the formulation of the album that would be called Dirty Wake, "October" was often overlooked. Although the song "Automatic" would eventually be our single, I don't think "October" ever really got the credit it deserved. The industry folks were always concerned with what they could have, instead of focusing on what they had. It was a lot like trying to turn flowers into jello, if that makes any sense. For a good two years, I wrote incessantly for the sole purpose of composing a "better" single that what we had. More than ten times, I got a call from my manager saying, "Well, it doesn't look like the album's gonna come out. You should write a song like [insert top ten song of the week here]." In short, it was tough. Eventually, we succeeded in having Dirty Wake released.

Chris Lord-Alge, an "A level" mixer in Los Angeles, saved the day with a last minute re-mix of three key songs, two of which were "Automatic" and "October." I was unable to attend the mix session because I was finishing up vocals on "Wonderland" across town. I did get out to the mix session to hear a little of what was going on. It sounded awesome. Chris did wonders with "Automatic" and "October," but it's a shame that he mixed the conga click track in with the drums. Why that happened, I'll never know. Only a few of us noticed, but we still noticed.

For a number of reasons, I prefer the Lessons of Autumn version of "October" to the very expensive version on Dirty Wake. For one, there is an inherent honesty in the earlier recording. I was really close to the song while making that record. I felt it. I had such a hard time beating the vocal take during the Dirty Wake sessions that we actually "Pro Tooled" the old vocal take into the new recording. Secondly, I think the arrangement is fresher on the original track. There isn't much low end on the Lessons version, but the interplay of the drums and guitar contains an authentic chemistry. As a band, Collapsis played well. Yet, "October" was always a song that we had trouble playing better than the Lessons version. Collapsis was a great rock band and I think any of the guys in the band would proudly say that we lacked finesse in all the ways a rock band should. However, "October" requires that certain panache. It doesn't quite sound right without it. At least, that's how I see it.

When Collapsis got off tour with SR-71 and American Hi-Fi in February of 2001, I was tired. While on tour, I learned that my A&R didn't like my latest songs. When I got home, I thought long and hard about jumping through the same hoops I did in order for a second album to come out. The last thing I wanted to do was fly to Los Angeles and waste a few more years of my life writing songs that would never see the light of day. For Dirty Wake, I wrote over 60 songs that didn't make the cut. I had a hard time justifying putting the band's life on hold. Moreover, I wanted to write on my own terms. That was something I hadn't done since, well, I wrote "October" back in that dorm room shower. More importantly, Collapsis hadn't drawn decent numbers in six months. Continuing the band in a proper way would have thrown us into a great deal of debt. It was fun while it was good, but it wasn't good anymore. After a few hurt feelings, a handful of lawsuits, and a notorious break-up letter, I "left" Collapsis. I had to. At that point in my life, "October" seemed like a self-fulfilling prophecy.

I lost quite a few friends by breaking up Collapsis. That still saddens me. I lost a lot of fans, too. I understand that some people can create an entire identity around a particular band. These are the folks who come to every show and know every word to every single song, even the ones that were never released. When that band breaks-up, it's as if the moon has crashed into the sea. Worlds collide. Feelings get hurt. If you were a Collapsis fan and were upset with me for breaking up the band, I'm sorry. It wasn't easy for me either.

Shortly after all of this happened, Mark Kano, who played guitar and sang on the original demo of "October," gave me a call. He asked me to join his band Athenaeum. I expressed to the members of Collapsis that I wanted to continue on as a solo artist, in light of leaving Collapsis. Mark had approached me a few times before about coming on board with Athenaeum as a fifth "utility" member, but I always declined, even though I would have enjoyed it very much. Now that the timing was right, it seemed to make sense. I had already helped Mark out with the Athenaeum song "Plurabelle" and I really enjoyed working with him. He was clearly the best guitarist and songwriting talent I personally knew, so I felt I could learn a lot from being in his stead. When I signed on, he also encouraged me to continue writing my own stuff. This worked out to be a great arrangement for me, as I could perform with a highly visible band and still endeavor to write solo material.

On March 31, 2001, the new Athenaeum line up played its first show at Ziggy's in Winston-Salem, NC. We spent much of February and March in rehearsals in Raleigh, NC. Jeremy Vogt also signed on as the new drummer. Along with Alex McKinney on bass, the new line up was quite inspiring to me. Athenaeum was a more technically proficient than ANY band with which I had performed. Jeremy often warmed up for an hour before stepping behind a drum set. Alex, in his free time, enjoyed playing Jaco Pastorus bass lines. Those are really, really difficult to perform. Mark had an inherent ability to perform any guitar phrase flawlessly. During those first few shows, there were times that I felt like I really needed to rehearse more. For a while, I did just that. A typical day for me in 2001consisted of drilling the new material, followed by a long bike ride through Chapel Hill listening to Radiance and Athenaeum over and over again. It was pleasantly surprising to me that Mark wanted to include "October" in the new Athenaeum set. That song I knew very well.

By the time we hit the road in summer of 2001, I was very comfortable with my role in Athenaeum. We were beginning to gel as a band. Sadly, our tour for Athenaeum ended in November of 2001. Also, another story altogether. In 2002, Athenaeum focused on playing regionally. We also recorded my third solo album, The Promise of Summer. We approached the entire record in the same way that we approached the original version of "October" nearly six years before. I think the album finished well. I like Summer as much as Autumn, although I know my fans are divided on the matter. I'm glad that we're out playing some shows as the Mike Garrigan Band these days. Clubs seem to be supportive and I don't think many Athenaeum fans disapprove of these shows.

Often I think of the sum of experiences that make "October" the song it is. The song has been my ticket to just about all the places I've wanted to go with music. Every now and then, I get an email or a fan letter than lets me know just how much the song means to people. I'm thankful that some have found importance in my art. Thanks.