Rich Hall, R.I.P.
Farewell to a friend beloved by many
“It's the part of the movie where you can't help but close your eyes /
A social butterfly retreats back to its cocoon.”
- Cave In “New Moon”
Cave In’s Jupiter, one of my favorite albums, turned 25 this year.
The occasion had me revisiting the record for the first time in a while, and I love it just as much as ever. (A deluxe remastered version is available now.)
Let the Dead Bury the Dead, the single full-length album from my old band, Burn It Down, also turned 25, as did Celestial, the brilliant first album from Isis.
Cave In, BID, Isis, Dillinger Escape Plan, Botch, The National Acrobat, Drowningman, most of the Hydra Head Records roster, and some others were part of an elite crop of “thinking man’s metal” originating from the hardcore scene, a group that Kerrang! dubbed “Noisecore” in a round-up article.
The bands didn’t necessarily sound alike, but a vision of fearless creativity and iconoclasm united them. This is to say nothing of the unapologetic embrace of music from outside the hardcore norms, from Coalesce’s Zeppelin covers EP to the dreamy indulgences of Creative Eclipses to Anodyne’s anarchic raucousness.
Playing together and getting to know these people in the late ‘90s was magical.
We’ve lost many warm, creative individuals from that era. Caleb Scofield from Cave In in 2018, Jason McCash, and Brian “Iron Bob” Fouts from my old band (and later, The Gates of Slumber) in 2014 and 2020, respectively.
Health problems, tragic accidents, overdoses, or just the passage of time.
It comes for us all.
One of the people I met back then was Rich Hall.
As a mutual friend told me yesterday, Rich was “a lot”—in a good way.
Rich was warm, funny, and kind, and loved people relentlessly.
He was jovial, big-hearted, and gregarious.
Learning of his passing was heartbreaking.
Raised in Queens, Rich put on hardcore and metal shows at CBGBs, Santos Party House, and elsewhere with his 1000knives promotion company. He spent time on the road with bands and did work with Revelation Records, Century Media Records, MIA Records, Victory Records, BandMerch, and Bravado.
He attended Manhattan Art and Design and studied illustration at the School of Visual Arts. He has been celebrated in recent years for his unique paintings.
He lived in Tacoma, Washington, with his wife, Carrie, and their young son.
Not only was I knee-deep in Jupiter this week, but I just finished a rewatch of Michael Schur’s phenomenal The Good Place, which explores life, death, self-improvement, and friendship with humor and grace.
The moment after the last episode finished, I saw the texts about Rich.
A painting I commissioned from him in recent years hangs in my home, as do many of his works, in many homes of the people who loved him.
“I’m going to miss the hell out of Rich just like the entirety of my feed,” wrote the great Keith Huckins of Deadguy and Kiss It Goodbye on Facebook. “He touched so many and helped so many and actually seemed to enjoy the abuse I threw at him. I’m super sad that I’ll never get one of his crushing hugs again.”
Matt Pike, who booked so many of our bands (and still does), wrote:
“Rich never, and I mean never, ended a conversation with me without telling me he loved me. I truly know he did. Because of that, I will forever tell my friends I love them, too. I hope Carrie can look at some of these posts and photos in the upcoming days and weeks and share with C how loved Rich truly was. How much joy he brought to so many of us. It’s beyond words.”
The outpouring of love for Rich across social media reminded me of the importance of legacy and community.
How will our family, friends, and communities remember us?
Let Rich’s love, humor, and heart help guide the way.
If you’re reading this, I love you.
A GoFundMe has been set up to help Rich’s wife, Carrie, and their young son.
“A friend loves at all times, and a brother is born for a time of adversity.”
- Proverbs 17:17