An hour before taking the stage Sunday night, the bald
18-year-old hunted for a good couch to nap on at Water Street Music Hall. The month before, Charlie Coté lay in
a hospital bed at the National Cancer Institute in Bethesda, Maryland,
uncertain if he would respond to a last-resort treatment for malignant melanoma
— the most difficult skin cancer to cure.
The singer carried the latest Harry Potter and a Ziploc bag of various medicines as hewaited for his band Fivestar Riotto play for more than 700 people at a
benefit concert in his honor.
“When I don’t feel well, I ask, ‘Why?'” Coté says about the
cancer he was diagnosed with in February 2004. “But seeing all these bands come
together, I see it’s part of God’s plan. It brings out the goodness in people.”
Those close to Coté, a musical savant who plays seven
instruments and won a composition award from the Eastman School of Music, say
he has never wanted to use his battle against cancer to promote Fivestar.
However, when more than 20 bands responded within two days to 17-year-old
musician Jordan Curran’s request to play the benefit, it demonstrated Coté’s
band is no charity case.
The band formed more than four years ago when its original
members — including Coté, bassist Ethan Waddell and guitarist Zach Milne were
in eighth grade. Shortly after Fivestar recorded its first album in ninth
grade, the drummer quit. The band practiced at the Cotés’ house, so Coté taught
his 9-year-old brother Alex to play drums. Within the year, Coté’s parents,
Barbara and Charlie (Big C to the band), assumed the role of roadies and bussed
Fivestar to gigs. Big C chuckles about seeing his boys playing the Bug Jar at
such a young age, and says the late Uncle Rog of WCMF’s homegrown show became a
big fan.
Around the same
time, the Cotés took both Charlie and Alex to have moles removed from their
heads at the family doctor’s recommendation. A surgeon told the Cotés the moles
were benign. Yet when watching the Super Bowl two years later, Charlie’s
girlfriend felt a bump behind his left ear. Within weeks, doctors diagnosed
Stage III malignant melanoma that had already reached Coté’s lymph nodes.
The Cotés see no point dwelling on the missed diagnosis, and
Coté simply wants to keep doing what he loves. “If I’m going to die,” he says,
“I don’t want to live like I’m going to die.”
So Fivestar began scheduling its shows and studio time
around Coté’s treatment schedule. Paul Guck, who replaced the band’s former
guitarist in the fall, marvels at his bandmate’s endurance and attitude. “He’s
a trooper,” Guck says. “He’ll come home from surgery and be up two weeks later
[performing]. He could be sitting down sulking.”
After losing one of his salivary glands during surgery, Coté
learned to raise and lower his voice an octave to hit certain notes. John
Bagale, who taught Coté music at Penfield High School, called Fivestar’s 2005
album Unfamiliar Sky the best
student-made recording he has ever heard, and the song “Better” earned Fivestar
fourth place in a WBER contest of more than 50 bands.
While Coté’s poignant lyrics have brought many to tears,
fans eagerly anticipated seeing his colorful stage antics again Sunday. The
cancer and treatment had kept him from performing since a benefit concert for
Golisano Children’s Hospital in early April.
The cutting-edge cell
replacement therapy Coté received in June has reduced tumors that have spread
to his lungs, yet he still fights pain, nausea, and exhaustion daily.
Fortunately, he says the pain and nausea disappear when performing. So as the
crowd cheered and yelled his name when Fivestar took the stage, Coté smiled, laughed,
and stuck out his sandaled foot for a girl to touch.
His fingers soon walked the keyboard to the contemplative
“Unfamiliar Sky,” and though his voice choked on the opening words, he calmly
restarted and sang, “Look up. It just might surprise you. I think we’ve found
your cure. / Don’t know where we’re going; itdoesn’t matter. Why do we have to be so sure?” Coté wrote this
before his diagnosis, and now sees the lyrics as his life’s creed.
After the opener, the pop-punk band kicked into high gear with
its signature driving yet melodic songs. Coté danced and acted out the lyrics
as fans clapped and sang along. While his bandmates whirled around him, Coté
sometimes used his keyboard and mic stand to support himself. He gulped water
between verses, yet still managed to deliver enough power to spark a mosh pit.
Between songs, Coté thanked the crowd and club owner John Chmiel, who offered
the venue for free and later announced the show raised more than $8000 for
Coté’s medical costs.
“Thank you to all the bands,” Coté said. “I invite you to
come over and sign my head. I’ll wash it off, but I’ll take a picture first.”
After Fivestar finished and unplugged its amplifiers the
crowd chanted, “One more song.” Coté’s bandmates wondered if he had the energy.
“Give us a second, and pretend we weren’t on stage,” Coté said before dashing
off and then returning to sing “Through the Rain,” a song he wrote about
finding the strength to overcome life’s obstacles.
After the performance, he walked into the embraces of fellow
musicians who autographed his head in magic marker.
For information on upcoming shows, or to buy a CD, visit
www.fivestarriot.com.
This article appears in Aug 3-9, 2005.
