We’ve Only Got Porn
No one is enough. Not one of us, no matter how talented or fucking intense or beautiful is enough. No, not for anyone. You are not enough for me, and I – I am not enough for you. I’m starting to think that I was born empty and whatever was supposed to fill that space has fucked off laughing with the hottest girl I’ve ever known. I will always be empty. I just have to live with it.
Listen, if need dictates each of our connections, then what the fuck is this problem about simply caring for someone enough not to hurt them? Seriously, I’m asking here. Am I doomed to this? I mean, animals use instinct to get them through the day and you don’t see them needing to build 10 million dollar spas on 500 meters of the most blinding white sand on the Pacific Ocean. How can we ever be satisfied if our instincts tell us THIS is just not enough?
And if we’re never satisfied, how can we ever be happy? And by “we”, I of course, mean “me”. I once wrote a long time ago “If you don’t love me, you need help.” Well, baby, I’m the one who needs help these days. And I have had it with these fucking days.
Back Stage At The Record Launch
Back stage with Sally and Melsha we wonder where the tray of cocaine is. Here I have the girls but I forget the fucking drugs. Damn! We laugh at the irony of life.
The girls remark at the really un-glamorous condition of the back stage. I tell them about CBGB’s in NYC (RIP). Ramones throwing up on the ceiling and a toilet on a pedestal. Truly a punk throne for such mad kings as have never been seen since.
Such ripped and torn eyes from California look at me with an excuse that there are many boring places there, never mind Hollywood and Vine or the illegal thought processes. Oh, Sally, I have a feeling wherever you are, it is plenty interesting.
No room to sit or any privacy. Which makes for fast friends. (I have a flash back to North Hampton Mass. In 1997. Vital, the bass player and I have to change and lace up the boots in the tour van. Our green room was blue.)
I put on my cassock and do a few jumps to get the blood going. Jon comes in and I ask him if he can go on stage to grab the mallet for the gong. He does. He goes out to send Zasta in so we can start the fire dance.
A few minutes later, Melsha watches as Zasta starts to do push-ups to warm up. A large pole falls and I catch it. This is an inconsequential incident during an otherwise consequential event – but I know I’ll remember this for the rest of my life. Zasta touched the large metal pole with his feet and the pole, dislodged, fell like a tree in slow motion. I raised my hand and caught it before it fell on him and me.
We’re ready to play. We cover our heads with the cassock cowls and go take our positions. Me by the gong and Zasta on the kit.
20 minutes pass in the heat of fire and the rhythm of dancing.
Back in the green room I hug Melsha and Sally. We are close at this moment. Very connected. Isn’t that what it is about… Why is there something missing?
Approx: 5 days before the show to the day before the show.
I talk with Simon Dragon, the man who created L’Union Du Feu. We get along immediately. His ideas are creative and emotive. We will work together. But it turns out he has some serious restrictions on what he can do at the venue. There is a resto under the Hall we are playing in so fire is not allowed.
Yikes! Well, the fact is you have to expect things won’t be easy. So Simon, an essential performer who, like me, believes the show must go on, assures me that he has come up with a very expressive idea using light orbs and (if he can) the very minimum of fire. I believe him only because (if you could have heard him talk you’d know) his passion for his art in fire is so intense. I give him the go ahead.
Dunter calls Alex. He needs to go to the Hall to see where he can suspend Maiko from the ceiling using his bondage pulleys and cords. No problem. I’ll meet him there that night.
I talk to Jeff, boss over at Elite Guitars. I love these guitars – they sound great – they’re loud and they look sexy as fuck. I want him to come to the show and set up a booth so people can check out the guitars TGON plays up close. He’s all for it. Nice.!
The Gods Of Now belt buckles have come in. They rock!!! Pewter and totally great. Kill The 8 are a band’s best friend for doing things like this.
I head down to Sala Rossa that night and meet with Dunter. The sound man is there and we ask… “Can we suspend a human from those pipes up there?” A resounding “NO!” comes to us and hits me in particular like a 2×4! No fire and now no flying bondage girl!
I assure myself that even if it’s on a small scale the show will still be very entertaining.
So after the flyer-ing and after renting some lighting and making sure all our shit is together – TGON, L’Union Du Feu, and Dunter and Miako, the merch, the pix and the Monk-a-delique project (me and Zasta on percussion). We just need to do the show.
Out In The Hall Before TGON Plays
Marzark, bass player and friend, buys us all a JD round. Ahhh, nice. I see Sam (Jon’s guitar student). She’ll be a star one day for sure. You can see it.
Time to play.
We finish with Broken and move off the stage so Dunter and Maiko can do their thing. I can’t wait to see this!
I go out front and listen as Sie Haben Nicht Vergessen starts playing. Maiko is a very athletic performer. How she can sustain her energy at that level is really remarkable. And then, when Dunter comes out and ties her to the pulley system, hoists her above the stage… it’s sensual and disturbing. I loved it! And this was all done when Dunter came in earlier today and found a spot to rig his pulley system. Great!
Dunter emerges from stage left wearing a white Bio Suit and Gas Mask. It’s all so eerie in the ultraviolet light. She is lifted off the ground to perform free from hard restrictions. But this freedom has it’s own price. She is very, very good. But this is my cue to change into my suit. It looks very punk in the context with the music, and I feel very at home in expensive suits so I like doing it. I go back stage and change.
Sally is there and I hazard a guess that she may have some red lipstick. I ask and she is more than happy to lend me some. She says “I’m all about cross pollination!” I love this line. Not only that, she applies the red to my lips. I like it smeared across my lips, as if I was making out with a little slut. She does this without a problem. She gets a little bit too much on my cheek so she takes her sleeve and cleans me up. Her sleeve tears as she does this. She smiles at me and says, “There’s nothing about me that hasn’t been ripped or broken.” Wow! A connection. She knows it too.
Dunter and Maiko are finished. Excellent performance.
The Gods Of Now play the last part of the record.
And then we’re finished.
Jeff and Mike from Elite tell us to expect the TGON Signature Edition Guitars anytime now. Really, I can’t wait for this ax to come to me. It’s going to be sweet! We shake hands and thank them for looking after our guitars this night. They even lent me a second just in case a string on mine broke.
Alex has to leave. Early up the next day so it’s Zasta, Jon, Amp and me. We pack up everything into the Banyion. I go back to the studio after dreaming, I think. …All the scars that trace my thought of you.
This wasn’t enough. Not near enough. It was a great and protected moment in time that was shared by connecting with great human beings. Artists. I loved it. But it’s not enough. I want more.
So like me, you should go out and have your fun. It’s too late for going back now. Just like a snakebite on a sun bleached highway, the poison works its way so goddamn fast straight to the heart. And everything is fading…
And now you need something else because I’m not enough, because I am not your cure anymore. But you ain’t enough either… That’s the way this fucking poison works. And at the end of it all, we’ll all sit down and die.
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