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.

Now, I try to get either a Tibetan throat-singing group (specifically Monks) or a Cyrillic throat-singing choir (necessarily priests). You’ve heard this kind of music – even if it was just in the movies: huge, low resonating tones emanating from small robed figures. Voices that defy explanation as to how they can create multiple, simultaneous overtones reaching high into the harmonic stratosphere. Incredible. Magical.

Of course, when I planned this, I did, in the back of my damaged mind, remember something about the fact that these kinds of singers are VERY religious and may have a bit of a problem performing with a group of heavy music fuckers, albeit ones with open minds and hearts.

It came as no surprise that the Cyrillic choir (made up of priests) was too religious and the Tibetan Monks… LIVE IN TIBET (actually they live in Hong Kong as they were exiled: so many lines of drama). Neither was an option.

Result: I needed another opening act for The Gods Of Now record launch.

Now, I know most CD launches have bands, usually of like style, opening. But we’re THE GODS OF NOW so that idea is a little fucking rudimentary for me to pursue. Now, you’re saying, “Schrecker, broheim, if it ain’t broke don’t fix it.” But I’m saying TGON don’t exist in that system (that I sarcastically will point out is working oh so well) so we have to chart our own way… I know something is out there and it just needs to find me while I’m searching for it.

But aside from the mystical mumbo jumbo… listen. Pragmatically speaking, not only is it difficult to find bands that fit with TGON, but actually after listening to two bands of the same kind of music (in this case heavy music), I’m usually done for the night. My idea is to put on something more Cabaret or Vaudevillian in style. I don’t want to tire the audience. I want to entertain them. Keep them spell bound.

6 Days Before The Show:

While I was preoccupado with trying to find a suitable act for the opening… we were on the way to locking up the last part of the show.

The idea was this… TGON would play the whole record live. This is an intense experience for both TGON and the crowd listening to us, so (although I didn’t realize it at the time) Alex, Jon and Zasta had thought that it would be great if the Bondage Acrobats (Maiko and Dunter) would do their thing while the two atmospheric pieces (Sie Haben Nicht Vergessen and Recorded History) that are on the record were being played. Great!

All I needed to do was meet with them, so Alex set up a meeting at my studio a few days later with Maiko and Dunter to talk about what they were going to do and how they would go about doing it.

Now it was time to work out an idea I had about a project that would have Zasta and I just playing percussion… so we had a few rehearsals to see what we’d come up with. Surprise, surprise! It’s fucking amazing.

We asked Jon to come and run the Studio to make a recording of us, so we could listen to make sure we weren’t just creating noise. We were on track. We’re ready.

We still liked the idea of monks so we thought we’d rent cassocks to wear on stage and the bonus would be that people wouldn’t know it was us playing. Oooh, mysterious. We even wanted to print up little pieces of paper saying, “What you are listening to is an accompaniment to your conversation and social event. It is not intentionally a performance, unless you want it to be. But it is up to you.” How vague. Nice.

The next day, AMP calls me into her office. She’s been looking for interesting performers online and came across the L’Union Du Feu, a huge group of fire performers put together by Simon Dragon, fire breather extraordinaire. I check it out. Oh fucking Sweet! Girls dancing with fire! I gotta give this guy a call.

But now I have to pick up the Art Pix. (When you buy the Record there is a poster that comes with it. On the poster are pictures, each representing a song on the record. One of them is causing a controversy. It depicts Alex getting a blowjob from a girl, wearing our hot shorts, while Jon is holding a gun to her head. It is very hardcore in content. It is paired with the song Skeeved. Look it up if you don’t know what it means and then you’ll understand).

Zasta had this great idea after I told him I wanted to blow up the pics. He thought that we should set them up like an art gallery. Nice.

I had them blown up to 3 feet by 4 feet (they look amazing) and had them mounted. There are doubles (not mounted) just in case someone wants to buy them.

Setting Up the Stage on the Day of the Launch:

The fucking load-in really dragged me out. Jon and Zasta had to go to the costumier to get the monks’ robes. That left me and Alex to truck most of the heavy gear up the three flights of stairs at La Sala Rossa. Alex is tired too. But he says he needs food. I’m tweaking because there is SO much to prepare before the show and it’s already 5 pm.

The show is in three hours. Things like this usually don’t get to me, but this time… I feel it’s going to be a good show.

Dunther and Maiko are there. She’s preparing by warming up with stretches and back flips. He’s getting her revved up by stroking her with a very large knife. They look very content. I like them both – but they live in a world of their own.

Zasta and Alex are getting help from David the sound man to put up our brand new banner. It’s amazing and black and shiny. “The Gods Of Now”. Great.

Zasta is fitting it up there with not much more than bungee cords of various lengths and thin patience. He’s doing a great job, while Alex is obsessing that it’s crooked, starving Zasta’s patience even more.

We’re all setting up our TGON gear. We need to get it all fired up so we can do a sound check. Then I’ll set up the percussion and check that. The merch and big art pix have to be set out.

For a moment, I’m aware. I’m not at all alone. I don’t mean in the room, but in life – alone like we are told we must be. Born alone, live alone, die alone. I don’t believe it, not at all. Not at the moment. Beautiful and passionate, like the kiss of love herself. Does anyone see her? Does she really exist? A bright light, a brush of lips, the press of hands. Why must everything perfect be what you don’t have?

I’m stepping down from the stage. My Fender Strat in its flight case – makes a dandy step. I’m surprised by Two Women, one tall the other not as tall. Both are magnetic. Gothic. Evil and pure. Bright eyes and tired too. Where do they come from, women like this? They smile… friendly. Searching for connection.

In my head I hear screaming – “Life ain’t random. It loves, it breathes, it sucks and it blows…”

Both of these hot girls, with no thought to my own wrongly wired psyche, burst into flames. I close my eyes and open them again. 24 frames a second cut to 12. The process just a little too long to be considered a normal motor reflex of the eyelids. But the girls aren’t on fire any more, so it worked.

“… life won’t stop for me or for you or for all of us collectively, even if we ever get our shit together. But It goes baby! Yeah! Life goes and goes! But no way, it ain’t random at all.”
I smile back at them.

“I’m Schrecker.” I say over the screaming in my head.

To Be Continued…

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! :)

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.

The critic’s job is to listen to music and more importantly to know HOW to listen to music. “Dude, I only like hip-hop, everything else sucks.” This person cannot be a critic of music. Not even of hip-hop critic because hip-hop is not an insular form. It’s just as dependent on other forms and genres of music as any other style of music is – sometimes more, right PuffSeanDad? To be a music critic – you must listen to all kinds of music. Discover why they are there, see the cultural attraction and changes that are attached to them.

Also, critics should write believing that we don’t care at all what THEY think. We only want a well-informed objective opinion… If you are writing about music it’s because you love it, not because you’re heading up an individualistic revolution. If you want to do that, write a goddamn blog, or a record. HA! Great.

And please, the less comparisons the better. If you don’t know what to call the style of music you’re listening to, buy a thesaurus or make something up. Just like D.J. Alan Freed did in 1951 (he said “rock ‘n roll” to describe the music for the first time).

Oooh, but that sounds difficult. Art isn’t supposed to be difficult. (Damn I hate us all! I hate us all so much.)

Listen, when has anyone ever gone out to buy a record because of what some Student at a university paper said. Hold on Student, take yourself down a peg or two because you clearly are one of those lazy critics who doesn’t know how to listen to music – let me explain how I know that little nugget about you…

First: you were in a car talking with your parents while you were listening to it (oh my God does this sound as lame to you as it does to me?). AND you listened to PornoZing!!! first because it mentions on the tear sheet that “it’s about fucking”. Oh, are you lonely Student? Not getting any? Maybe your parents don’t let you fuck under their roof? Or are you just that stupid to listen to a song about rutting before you listen to the TITLE track Broken, which is about how people are destroying our planet because of their clear and undeniable ignorance of how to live in harmony with others. See… you don’t know HOW to listen to music. But there’s more…

Second: you condemn a song because of its title – I’m talking about The Gods Of Now’s most political and (in my opinion) incredibly spiritual composition on the record: Electrodes On My Nutmeat.

This song is what I’ve lived through the shit of my fanatical Christian past to get to. And you didn’t even listen to it, or even read the lyrics. You got hung up on the title because you don’t know how to deal with art and, by extension, life. Both are complicated, never as they seem and always multi-leveled.

Is it strange to think that in life there are ups and downs? That sometimes you’re depressed, sometimes you’re euphoric. Sometimes you get to fuck like a crack whore on speed. Sometimes (the same time possibly) things aren’t going the way you planned. Sometimes things are silly, sometimes just messed up.

I don’t think this as strange at all – this is often my daily routine. So, if life in fact is infinite variations on a theme, then why should it be assumed that a record that was conceptualized to reflect life consist of songs that all sound the same about content that never changes. Damn, if you recognize your life in that kind of dull boredom – Fuck – you have no right to tell me anything and if you do, I should have the right to hunt you down and kick your sorry ass.

I hear a voice of some disembodied critic yelling over the space of time: “How was I to know that The Gods Of Now record was conceptualized as art and not as product?” You listen to it you goddamn human.

You listen to it.

You’d find that Electrodes On My Nutmeat is about the Standing Buddhas of Bamyan, which, on March 21, 2001 were reduced to rubble by the Taliban in Afghanistan. It is about how that the world (me and you included) all watched and did nothing as these 1,000-year old pieces of art which represented, on the surface, The Buddha, not enlightened and sitting down but upright and searching, were destroyed by a group of fanatics who also outlawed music (imagine not being allowed to sing!) and subjugated their women even unto death.

The song is about, on the deeper levels, censorship, following party lines, control and doing what you’re told and more importantly NOT doing what you’re told. How that you can stand up for 1,000 years against a tide that is so strong, how that you can stand there and be nothing but beautiful, serene and perfect – and they’ll kill you anyway because you represent that which is great and wonderful about humanity.

It’s about the poetry of the story arc of these spirits of stone – that they are no longer with us, but have somehow attained enlightenment and imparted to us something sad and precious. They are at rest from standing against the tide for so long. Now we have to stand up.

So it is about how this atrocity will happen again and again and humanity and art and love will sink out of sight in a huge grave of dust and of blood and hate. Unless we act to stop this – but that’s like trying to find a bullet to rely on – and you can’t trust a bullet.
“Electrodes On My Nutmeat”…

Pretty funny name for a song like this, hey Student? You ever have electrodes put on your genitals and been electrocuted – hilarious fucking shit that is. This song was named to weed out morons who don’t think, who look away, because it doesn’t matter to them, for those who want to stay ignorant. Who don’t know how to look at, listen to or live life.
As a NYC underground artist once said while she was naked, covering herself in broken eggs and paint screaming poetry “Hey! It’s art buddy!”

And that sums it up nicely. So if you’re going to write about it – know HOW to listen to it, look at it or experience it.

I’m not asking anyone to like the shit I do. Art is the most human of expressions because it all comes down to taste. What I’m telling you is that you are showing your own ignorance and stupidity if you dismiss the content because you don’t know how to listen to it – unless you’re a Taliban sympathizer or a terrorist and then please by all means hate it cuz you’re not worthy of it anyway.

And here’s the content of The Gods Of Now in the NUTshell (Ha! Great!):
Change starts with awareness. Sure, but we’re all so fucking aware! We have become powerless in it. Real change doesn’t happen because of awareness, but because we act, one at a time, for something that is right, true and human.

What do you stand up for?

We haven’t decided on a specific date for the launch yet, but of course we’ll keep you posted.

Also, we got many shows booked! So yes that means we’ll have to take Schrecker out of his cage. Here’s the list (more to come):

• Bar St-Laurent 2 Montreal, Quebec (5 Jun 2008 21:00 )
• Heavy Metal Music Association of Canada/NXNE at the Funhaus Toronto, Ontario (14 Jun 2008 20:00, 526, Queen Street W., Toronto, Ont.) YOU GOTTA BE THERE! :)
• Cabaret Playhouse Montreal, Quebec (20 Jun 2008 21:00)
• Le Tremplin Sherbrooke, Quebec (23 Aug 2008 20:00)
• Bar St-Laurent 2 Montreal, Quebec (29 Aug 2008 20:00)

Check our MySpace too!

Oh and we also have a photo shoot next week, if you click on the image below you’ll see what came out of the previous one (we’ve been thinking of doing a movie, and that’d be the promo poster. Not sure though, so comments are definitely welcome! :) ) ↓

Jon