Portrait of an Old Friend
In the top floor of a damp old warehouse along Seattle's waterfront, the fall of 1983 was alive with sound. The air buzzed as Rick Parashar sat behind the keys, his brother Raj humming while searching for the perfect melody, Colin on guitar, and Ben on bass. These guys had been playing together for nearly a decade—since middle school—and I was stepping into their territory. Little did I know that this audition to be their drummer for "Fire and Faster" would catapult me into the orbit of one of the most creative souls I’d ever encounter.
Rick Parashar
Rick helped define the grunge sound. He crafted records that weren’t just multi-platinum hits but cultural icons. From Pearl Jam’s "Ten" to Alice in Chains’ "Sap", and my personal favorite, "Temple of the Dog," Rick helped transform the raw angst of Seattle into anthems that resonated across the globe. He molded something enduring—something that connected generations.
Sadly, Rick passed away suddenly in the late summer of 2014. He was an artist in the truest sense, and his medium was music. It was tragic and shocking—he was so young, barely 50 years old. There are days when I miss him deeply.
Producers like Rick are rarely acknowledged; their names are often tucked away in liner notes. Yet their influence is everywhere—in the songs that become the soundtracks to our lives, in the memories those melodies stir, and in the creative risks they inspire.
Take a moment to honor the friends and mentors whose lives and work have profoundly shaped us. Share their stories. Keep their legacies alive.
