Mike Colin, RIP

I don't know why Mike Colin took his own life. Truth is, I didn't even know Colin. Outside of exchanging a few brief e-mails with him, I'd never spoken with him. And until a few weeks ago, when I heard of his untimely death, I didn't really think much about the guy at all. I mean, I dug Phantasmorgasm back in the day, but those days were so far in the rearview that Colin had scarcely crossed my mind since.

And that's a shame, because in reading Colin's musings, which are posted on his MySpace page, it seems as though we shared a similar outlook on making music. He believed that music was best in its imperfect form and that artists should make music purely for the love of it, rather than have their efforts clouded by commercial aspirations. As I read his words, many of the sentiments struck me as things I could've written, things that I've felt over the course of my life as both an artist and a critic. The passion in his prose was unmistakable.

"Sometimes, I'll leave a vocal in that isn't in tune or whatever for several reasons," Colin wrote. "First, it always reminds me of someone drunkenly singing a song in a pub, and that brings a smile to my face. Secondly, the mood of a song dictates to me the vocal style...which sometimes can be something other than American Idol. Lastly, who says I can sing it in tune, anyway? I am not a singer. I know this. But I have things to express...I can't express them because I can't sing? Nonsense. But I have no delusions that I am Julio Iglesias or whatever."

At another point, he mused: "Why does a song have to be linear or tell a story? Why can't it exist wholly on its own like a painting? To me, it can and does. In my opinion, sometimes a lyric that has less than ten words can be deeper than a full-fledged sonnet or traditional lyric. It depends on the listener's experience and reasons for listening. I always listened to albums that opened a dialogue with me...expressed uniqueness."

From the sound of it, Colin's own music served much the same purpose, giving him a way to express his pain — of which there was plenty, leading him to take his own life at the end of April. Two weeks ago, I wrote about rumors to that effect, and Paul Holmes, Colin's cousin, business manager and acting operator of Mike Colin LLC, subsequently reached out via e-mail, confirming that Colin had indeed committed suicide. Any alleged evidence to the contrary — apparently, some unscrupulous person(s) has been impersonating the late Colin on e-mail and phone, for reasons unknown — "Big Mike" is no longer with us.

Holmes says that he, Colin and a drummer named Yamawere in Mexico at Colin's warehouse, dubbed the Penguin's Den, rehearsing for an upcoming tour, when Colin shot himself. Holmes is too devastated by the loss to go into much detail, but he does share parts of Colin's story in a piece he penned titled Anger + Heartbreak: The Life of Mike Colin. In it, Holmes recounts how Colin was born out of wedlock to a mother living a decadent rock-and-roll lifestyle. She ended up forfeiting her parental duties, leaving Colin to be raised by his grandparents in Capitol Hill. During the pregnancy, Colin had contracted Toxoplasmosis — a congenital disease caused by exposure to parasites found in cat feces — that rendered him blind in one eye and nearly blind in the other. Throughout his life, he also suffered from bi-polar manic depression and schizophrenia.

Colin's lyrics read like journal entries fraught with ruminations on frustration. "I don't write about fantasy," he pointed out. "My lyrics are not going to be relatable for the alpha males and females. My music is for the kid who sat in the back of the class, if they even went to class at all. My music is for the kid who was ostracized. My music is catharsis for pain...if u haven't experienced a lot of pain, it probably sounds like a bunch of noise...and that's ok. I don't believe in appealing to as many people as possible. But it's no bullshit by any stretch of the imagination. What am I supposed to write about? Cars? Meeting the new girl in class? I'm 36 years old...I haven't been to class in like twenty years."

Twenty years ago — that would have been right around the time when Phantaz debuted. From then until his passing, Colin released a staggering amount of music — hardly any of which I kept up with. But while he'd dropped off many radar screens, Colin was an undeniable scene icon throughout the '90s. Michael Roberts, my predecessor as Backbeat editor, covered much of Colin's career in print, and has put together an extensive rundown of his music on our Backbeat Online blog. For my part, I can only say that I feel remiss at having lost the opportunity to know this vastly prolific artist. Upbeats and beatdowns: As a certified know-it-allogist, there's nothing more deflating than realizing that you don't know everything. On the Westword Music Showcase ballot, I mention how Dinosaur Jr. hasn't played Denver since 1989, a claim I double- and triple-checked with extremely reliable sources (namely the act's agent and Severed Lips, a site dedicated to chronicling all of Dino's past shows). But Scott Campbell of the Larimer Lounge and AEG set me straight. "I think that was in May '91, homey," he wrote in an e-mail. Positive I was right, we had a bit of back and forth about it.