Connections

Men and women and women and women and men and men and on and on it goes. Sometimes it’s… magic. Sometimes it’s a horror show. But for a brief, shining moment it’s fucking perfect. It was, wasn’t it?

It was fucking perfect for a second.

Passion is always dying, see? That’s its charm. That’s why it’s addictive and that’s why it chose us. The Ashes we are: we, who are also always burning up, dying so wonderfully, consumed by flames of desire and woe. We are so sad and beautiful, aren’t we? What a wake we’ve got going here on our planet.

Fire-fans in the two performers’ hands are hot on my face even though I cannot see them – I feel them, I smell the fuel. Melsha and Sally. They are both dark beauties, gothic and gorgeous. Sally says backstage later, “There’s nothing about me that hasn’t been ripped or broken.” I like her immediately. But right now I try to see through the cowl of my cassock the two lithe female forms, ghosts of my imagination, moving through my journey to passionate death… fire leaping from their fingers. Zasta and I are giving the two women pulse and rhythm and they, in turn, become fucking perfect for one burning moment. (will have a vid soon, but for now here’s a pic below) I can honestly say, I’m happy.

7 Days Earlier:

I’m not happy at all. Fuck.
The only thing I know about the launch for sure is that TGON is going to perform the record and there’s some Fetish Acrobats that are interested in performing too. The latter concerns me only in its execution. The concept – a guy rigging up a girl to a pulley system and she basically flies above the stage in a sort of bondage dance – I like. [Read more →]

Interview On CHOM 97.7 FM

Hey guys! Just a quick post to let you all know we got an interview coming up on CHOM 97.7 FM (Montreal). And you’ll be able to listen to it by downloading the podcast of the show. Huge thanks to Mike Metal! :)

You can check out The Metal File page on CHOM here.

See ya on Wednesday at the album launch!

The Gods Of Now – CD Release Party!

The CD release party is on October 22nd in Montreal, and believe me, you want to be a part of this!

Here are the infos:
4848 St-Laurent, Montreal
It’s at 8pm and it’s $8! There will be fire performers, fetish acrobats, complimentary wine and a lot more kick-ass stuff! Be there! :)

Lost And Trapped

Self-loathing or just loathing in general? I can’t make up my mind. Yeah, my ambivalence. It’s like that sometimes.

Today makes the second time I’m reading an insipid review on my record by someone who is clearly not a music critic but just a moron with attention deficit syndrome. Now, first let me establish something…

If you’re a critic and hate the music – I have no problem with this… go ahead. Seriously, if most people loved it (and I think I’ve been pretty clear how I feel about most people) I’d shoot myself for sure. Like one of my favorite pretend writers says, “I hate you all.”
However, this isn’t the problem that is so evident with these “critiques”. The problem is, THE FUCKERS CLEARLY DIDN’T LISTEN TO THE GODDAMN RECORD. They didn’t even read the lyrics!

Come on, a real music critic wouldn’t just read the PR firm’s tear sheet and then do a review based on that and song titles, would they? Maybe I’m being too optimistic about alleged music lovers. But really, to have to say the number one rule of a music critic: Put the fucking record on! Jesus Christos! It’s their job! They’re supposed to listen to it from beginning to end and make an informed judgment on it. The key word there is “informed”. Know what you’re listening to. If you don’t, find out. Don’t like doing that? THEN DON’T BE A GODDAMN MUSIC CRITIC.

But that’s the problem isn’t it? Most of us are all jerks, lazy and just plain narrow-minded. We don’t want to be good at something – we just want to get it over with. [Read more →]

I’m Not IN The Business, I AM The Business

Life is balance. Half of the time I’m wondering what the hell is wrong with me and the other half I’m amazed at how much I love your fucking ass.

But right now – the rain has pulled all the dust from the air. It smells like the first kiss you ever had with the coolest person you’ve ever met.

And then it’s all down hill from there.

The hate of winter is near.

And speaking of hate I went to the Liberal Party of Canada fund raiser at the PUSH Art Gallery on St. Laurent. No I don’t hate the Liberal Party or any party (maybe the Yogic Flyers but that’s just cuz their too damn happy to be alive). I just hate people. And this isn’t good for social situations like this. It makes me stand by myself. A little cloud of self loathing for even being there swirling above my head.

Justin Trudeau was the guest of honor – he showed up in cell-phone form because he was on the Campaign trail in North Bay – understandable – but a little bit funny too. His lovely wife held him up for all to hear (Pregnant women are so goddamn hot don’t you think?). I was drinking down as much free wine as I could. I wondered if the people there ‘d ask me to stop. I kind of wanted them to. I would have said “It’s alright, I’m an artist. It’s my job.”

But there were Cultural Industrialists there that could have easily claimed the same thing. But really how can a 84 Billion dollar a year business have anything to do with art? Someone is making money somewhere – but it sure as fuck isn’t the artists.

And if you ever thought about voting – try this shit jacket on for size. This 84 billion dollar a year business of culture is supposedly going to be funded, in some fucked up Conservative Party theory, by 24 million dollars per year. Oh but it gets better – they’ll only give that 24 million (which is about the same amount as Stephen Harper spends on his summer cottage) to those few who are conforming to party standards and values of art. Let’s all sing together “Deutschland, Deutschland Uber Alas!” [Read more →]

The Gods of Now On Tour – Day 28 (Last Day)

Full-on, September eye fuck. Wakes you up twice.

We’ll get out of town and then eat.

We are all in remarkably great moods. One show to go and then it’s back home. Yesterday was hard just because we got it into our heads that we might be able to go home today. But since the show is on, the show is ON! So we’re pumped and ready.
We talk about everything. It’s a long way. We talk about the Movie. Everyone has The Movie of The Story of Their Lives. Ours has it all – sex, drugs, rock and roll – Gods, Goddesses, minions, magic, delusion, murder, adultery, fornication, a dictionary, Germans, Russians, Italians – THE FRENCH! Fucking international appeal, this is the real fucking shit! Murder???

The cities go by one by one until their mother, Toronto finally shows up. She screams at us to get going so we pass right by. We head on down to Brantford. This is the scene of one of the craziest shows I ever played (this was a long time before now). There was a bar owner named God who had my band play two nights – three shows (one was an afternoon show for street punks). It was outta control. He taught me and my bass player how to drink. He put the bottle of JD on the counter and said “Just keep your head above the bar and your eyes on me – you’ll be fine”. I can’t remember anything after that.
To me you have to really fuck up to fuck up in this town – my memories assured me of this.

We get there and check into the hotel and then head over to the bar. We see the big truck there in the front of the place unloading the PA gear. Well see… isn’t that totally promising!?

Mike, the very cordial soundman and current mover of said gear, says that the show is on. But there is ominous news… [Read more →]