You Gotta Believe

My dad, Dave Starr, is a heavy metal musician. He’s dedicated his life to his craft, writing melodies on bass and guitar. My childhood time with him was often spent at band rehearsal, hanging out in the recording studio, and joining him at his then-day job in a music store. Being surrounded by men head banging with hair longer than mine has always felt like home to me. Growing up in the San Francisco metal scene laid a unique foundation for me before mom and I relocated to Waco, Texas in 1994.

Even though I grew up in Texas, I spent my summers in California with my dad. One summer day when I was 10 or 11, I asked if I could write a song with him. Together we wrote and recorded a song called “You Gotta Believe” at his home studio. He wrote the melody and played the instruments, I wrote the lyrics - with his help of course. We still jokingly quote the song, reminding one another to believe.

As a writer, I’m more inspired by analyzing song lyrics and reading Rolling Stone magazine than analyzing poetry and reading literature. I’ve always had the heart of a musician but I didn’t pursue music because drugs and alcohol got in the way. During my formative teen years, I preferred the instant gratification of getting drunk and high instead of the delayed satisfaction that comes from a commitment to creative work. Like most people, I didn’t set out to become an addict. Struggling with depression and anxiety led me to subconsciously choose a lifestyle of self-medication and self-destruction for nearly 12 years.

Before I knew it, I was in my mid-twenties, working as a career bartender. My nights off were spent on the other side of the bar, drinking until I blacked out. The only thing consistent about my college experience was that I was always dropping out, eventually graduating at 28. While I was active in my addiction, I never thought about writing. I did, however, channel my creativity and love of music into teaching Zumba for 5 years.

Dad has a similar story in that he, too, chose to self-medicate with alcohol. Dad and I are both in recovery now. He’s been sober for 13 years. I’ve been sober for two and a half. Sobriety has profoundly improved our relationships with ourselves and with each other. Instead of having huge fights that result in us ignoring each other for months, we try to talk it out. We have learned what topics lead to an argument and how to agree to disagree in a (semi) mature manner.

This weekend I watched the movie Hearts Beat Loud and sobbed like a baby. It’s about a father and daughter who start a band. Seeing them in the studio felt like watching me and Dad. As soon as I got out of the theater, I texted Dad saying “LET’S GET BACK IN THE STUDIO!!!”. We plan to revisit this idea on my next trip home to Texas, where he has since relocated.

“As a writer, I’m more inspired by analyzing song lyrics and reading Rolling Stone magazine than analyzing poetry and reading literature.”

Below is the original version of our song, “You Gotta Believe”, recorded in the late 90’s. You’ll hear my adolescent, untrained voice singing her heart out while Dad is shredding on guitar. I paired the track with a cheesy slideshow of photos of us over the years. This is the first time we are sharing it with the world. We figured now was as good a time as ever because…you gotta believe.

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Dad and my step-mom, London, are now in a band called WildeStarr. Their latest album, Beyond the Rain, is about London’s brother’s suicide. Through the power of incredible song lyrics and melodies, Dad and London turned difficult subject matter into art. The world needs more work like theirs - especially in this climate. Check out their music on Spotify and iTunes.

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If you live in the NYC area and you’re free on June 20th, check out the PRIDE-themed Readings on Recovery on 17th & 5th. Reserve your free tickets here.

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