From: tess******@gmail.com
Date: May 27, 2025
Subject: Obsidian Mercy + My Time With Jimmy
Hey Sam,
Hope this doesn’t come off too random or heavy. Just wanted to say thanks again for putting out Obsidian Mercy. The fact that you’re sharing those songs, that part of Jimmy… it means a lot. I mailed in my copy hoping it’d be of use and seeing it live again is wild. Emotional, honestly.
I’m Tess, by the way—Tess Monroe. I was in the original Sirens of Sacrifice line-up, back in the Jimmy years. Played rhythm guitar and did the backing vocals—yeah, that’s me on the female vocals for some of those tracks. I was there when he wrote “Ash in the Veins.” That one hit deep then, still does now.
Writing this is bittersweet. I dipped out of the band way too early. Needed to finish school, get my degree, try and build something “stable,” whatever that means. Now I work at a bank. Suits, spreadsheets, dead eyes all around me. And all I can think is—I should’ve stayed. Should’ve fought harder to hold onto the music, and Jimmy. The guy had something no one else had. He was the music.
And yeah, full honesty—Jimmy and I did have a thing for a while. Nothing epic or anything. But real. But let’s clear the air: I’m not the girl he was writing about in those heartbreak songs. Not most of them, anyway. He told me about this one girl—his first, I think. First love, first everything. She played the whole field behind his back, had like five other dudes she was sleeping with. Jimmy found one of ‘em in their apartment one day when he came home from working his ass off. She admitted everything. It shattered him. That’s when he snapped and just… plugged into the void. Rented a warehouse, poured every last cent and drop of blood into the band. Sirens of Sacrifice was born right there. He wanted to call it just Sirens but, well, someone beat us to it.
Jimmy wasn’t just the guy on stage bleeding poetry. He was like that always. Lights off, beer in hand, guitar on his knee—same Jimmy. I swear, even when he was quiet, he was singing. Just in his head, in his bones. He was wired for music. It was him.
Not to gossip too much, but I think he and Lia had a thing once? Just saying, they left for a beer run one night and came back 3 hours later… without beer. He denied it. She played it cool. I dunno. Whatever it was, I don’t think it stuck. I don’t think anyone could handle the weight he carried. The intensity.
I feel weird airing all this out, but I wanted to give y’all a piece of him, of us, from before the stories got rewritten. I haven’t heard from Jimmy since I left the band. Tried emailing him a dozen times. His old Facebook got nuked right when the studio canned him. I think that broke something in him, honestly. All those rumors they spread about him being a user? Nah. Straight lies. I lived with him. We drank, sure. Smoked. But drugs? Never. Not once. That wasn’t him.
Truth is, I think the label wanted a band they could bend, and Jimmy couldn’t be bent. Jared—Snake—he was always in both worlds. Kept Jimmy on one leash and the studio on the other. Played it safe. I’m still mad about that. Still hurts.
But Jimmy? He was a poet. A prophet. A storm in human form. He could barely get out of bed sometimes, and then he’d grab a guitar and write the most tragic, beautiful riff you’ve ever heard. I think that signature riff he used in like a dozen songs? That was the first thing he ever wrote. It lived in him.
Anyway… sorry for the novel. Just needed to get some of this out. If you ever talk to him—tell him Tess says hey. And if you ever need a backing vocalist… I’d trade this life in a heartbeat to be wild again. Seriously.
Glad my copy of Obsidian Mercy made it to you safe. I kept a backup, but I sent the original. It belongs to the world now. Someone out there in 2025 needs that ache and that voice.
Also—big love to Luna. She absolutely slays. Ghost Riff Riders are amazing. You all are doing something that matters. Keep at it.
Let me know if a show comes through Utah. I’ll be there.
All the best,
Tess