There is no truth. I should be dead. A lot of us could say that. A lot of us are, many who did less stupid things than I. Passing out and vomiting in the wrong order. Literally blowing up amplifiers. Fighting with audiences. Trying to get Janes Fucking Addiction to let us have a reasonable sound check. If it sounds like a fantasy, it wasn't. It was a nightmare. Selfish asshole prima donnas vs. the mob. Nice fantasy! I never made more than a grand an hour but I think that's sick enough. My self-abuse these days is so tame. Then again, I'm so old. It's nice to be alive and it's nice to have my spoiled little artistic vision that will never be on MTV. Fuck crass commercialism. Been there, done that, less proud of it than amazed at my survival. I know my luck ran out. Spirit took good care of me, doesn't need me dead yet.
Most of this happened in Tucson, AZ. Is that some kind of a joke? Naw, we
were the big fish of that small, small pond. Big acts came through, we opened.
We went through enough managers. Scum bags, junkies, rich hippies. And our
roadies. Volunteer army. Groupies? I never really had the hang. I'm sure
polyamory is a default human mind-set or behavior but I have always been too
much the sensitive philosopher type. -How would I feel about that? Pheh, all
too well do I know. Karma and dharma are very different kiddies, very
different indeed. Perhaps the price for my existence is the ironic punishments
I endure. More than once I've been told it's because I'm not romantic enough.
Vicious cycles of behavior, serious dysfunctions... but here I go waxing
philosophic when you wanted to hear about sex and drugs. Well what I was
getting at is the sex was tame. Well, not tame but serially monogomastic.
Mostly. I don't have the attention span for polyamory anyway. Yeah, I guess
I had groupies, but I never did anything except frustrate them. I had my
future wife (to become ex-wife) to care about. And maybe I was just too damn
drunk.
Some things never change. I want all women. They get mad at me for that.
Some do anyway. Others just won't let me have them in the first place. But I
digress. Do I really? Didna we all join bands to get laid? O yeah, that all
important self-expression, I know ya got something to say bucko. OTOH there is
Bjork. So what, what are we doing really? Well, we have to do something. So
I'm pretty sure I'm still drinking too much, wake up drunk a couple of times a
week, grossly offend people I'm devastatingly attracted to, so? I'm not
creating a deafeining roar anymore.
What did we have on Mt. lemmon, a couple of kilowatts? And SXSW? Maybe the
same. Tucson Gardens? Imagine. Rumble. My bass was the voice of god. I
didn't have to play especially well to sound powerful. Which was good because
not only am I a drunk but odds are good I was stoned too.