King Buzzo at House of Vans NYC by J.M. 2013 was a great year for music. I cant recall a year in recent memory where I was so torn between so many great releases for my year end list. From Tidal Arms to Across Tundras to Ephel Duath to Nails, so many great bands just killed it. Other…
Doyle Wolfgang von Frankenstein. One of the more intimidating characters in the heavy music spectrum, the former Misfits guitarist oozes testosterone and campy horror mixed with genuine menace. What is there to say about The Misfits? I mean, seriously. One of the most important bands that mutated…
"Well wishes, wishing wells and a Love of good spells." By Morgan Y. Evans
——————————————— I live on the East Coast and it is almost October, 2013/ Cooling off here. Beautiful transitional weather. Been listening to Royal Thunder’s acoustic EP on repeat with my partner and her daughter and enjoying feeling happy with my day to day life.
Today I was talking to my partner’s daughter and she was pretending to be a girl named “Light Green”. It also might have been her way of saying Lightning. She is just shy of 5.
She had a plastic sword and we were running from goblins (she likes the Labyrinth David Bowie-era best).
My name was changed from “poopy lizard face” to the much more acceptable (in my book) “bloody ninja lizard face”).
Life does not get much better than that. I am very lucky.
I am early 30’s and feeling like I have done a lot of things I consider success on a personal level. Got to interview heroes of mine (and/or some rock star crushes) like Jennifer Herrema, Mina Caputo, Moby, Dave Lombardo, Jex Thoth, Ian Mackaye. Have seen millions of rock shows and made many songs myself. Got to share stages with bands like Bad Brains or Dio Disciples or Casualties or Unearth before. I am not richest person in world and have had a lot of trauma (major fucking trauma) in my life…but keep on carrying the torch of PMA.
——————————————- Stopped drinking this year. Lot of oxygen on the brain. Thinking about regrets. Wrote this about other paths that could have been taken:
"The Fulcrum’s scream"
The Fulcrum’s scream was “what if? what if?”. We pacify ourselves trying to forgive. What might have been had we not had we not.
*Lessons are sometimes complicated. I have many “regrets” of times I wish I had handled myself better in life or been more focused or not hurt people I love, but atlas I can sit back and learn from them now and they made me who I am today. Live and love and learn. Embrace.
Everyone close to you is a different person than you. Every interaction is a chance to be silly, be amazed, teach or to fucking blow it all on downhill uselessness. Choose wisely. ———————————————- It is good to communicate well with friends, lovers, family, anyone.
Guard your boundaries and sacred self and goals but be receptive. Sometimes friction occurs but “Jai Kali”. Touch the river of gold and be brave. Maybe the results will surprise you.
Be honest. Don’t bury resentment. But learn from the good lessons (not the crazy shit) of Jesus.
For Juno, fire feathers, distorted churches, passing shadows, cliff dwellers. Find your iron and bronze and modern ages and future. Lance the deceiver. ————————————————-
I want to start a punk band called Peter Frampton Memorial Bridge. It is a healthy ass name for a punk band. We can sell so many shoes and then go ironically prog and anti-fashion couture with talk box mohawks.
Had a dream with a talking dog in it last night. I was staying at some cool London/NY amalgam expensive arts building/fake hostel that was actually exclusive and for crazy dreamers. Some band I know that I think had Joey Valentine or some pals in it were passing through town. I was gonna catch up with them later but had water in some shoes and needed to find a new pair.
Was trying to fix a Nintendo and heard noise outside and some gypsy Euro-babe types were going into another room. One had a dog who barked my name and I thought it was amazing until I realized I had introduced myself to one of the girls and that is when the dog must have heard it. He wasn’t psychic. —————————————————
Recent body milestones (besides a vasectomy):
Recently got a tattoo of an Icelandic Love Stave, A Charmaine Olivia girl (she liked it on me and was nice to get a letter back about it), pieces for twins, a cosmic egg with serpent, a red dragon and black hen, a crocodile from a kid’s book who “really wants to eat a child”. Feel like my arms are pretty finished. Love stave is on my hand. never thought I’d get that done but it meant a lot to me as a symbol of hope for family, happiness and true love in life.
Rock n roll.
I am also at the point where…I will never get a bank job. I am a rocker. I am proud of who I am and am not going to hold back on my desired appearance so I can fit into a worried, eroded jello mold or fret if someone is going to know I am “crazy” when we realize fingerprint phones are a bad idea and the whole shit goes even more V for Vendetta on us.
Libertad, my friends.
(on beaches of bone the siren sings. and you cover your ears, but it’s the song you used to sing. there’s no escaping as you are pulled into the sea…)
from “Surviving the Siren” by Crisis
Video link: http://youtu.be/7DGzzn0GItU
I am a huge fan of metal singer/shamanic warrior lady/leatherworker/healer Karyn Crisis and am happy to call her friend. Her old band Crisis really changed my life, a NYHC/sludge scene institution who were underrated as fuck but have die hard fans. She now sings for the insane band Ephel Duath with her acclaimed guitar virtuoso hubby Davide Tiso.
Their symbol of a knife holding two knives represented personal empowerment, drawn by Karyn after she used to be sexually harassed on the streets of NYC in the 90’s.
Her music was about struggling with pain and asthma and dancing on the edge of madness but turning it to light. It really helped me when I was kicking heroin years ago and I never looked back. It has been since 1998. “Surviving The Siren” is my favorite Crisis song and remind’s me of the Romantic poet Shelley perhaps “accidentally” drowning at sea after setting out depressed on his ship Don Juan/Ariel.
The push/pull of genius and brain chemistry, emotion and the execution of pure thought fascinates me.
I have a giant tat of the Crisis symbol on my right arm. Recently I complimented it with Charmaine Olivia’s "Ophelia/Boat Shoulders" draft sketch on the base of same arm. I j’adore Charmaine’s art and since I have quit drinking 5 months ago to better my life, I related to the personal empowerment of Charmaine’s Ophelia as well. That and rocking The Ocean’s Pelagial record a lot lately has made me apparently re-enamored of the romantic notion of surviving the tides, be it love, attraction, political upheavals, finances or mood swings, haha. Again, communication is key.
Charmaine’s Ophelia is not a victim to madness. She owns the sea and survives her own sirens, so I thought she deserved a place on my right arm as well. Sailing seas and sewing the seeds of love/madness/creativity.
Happy 25th anniversary of the appearance of Sandman # 1 in November of 1988.