Freddy and I meet after Forty Years

10/20/19 22:35 Bethlehem, PA

I called Freddy yesterday morning.  He was upset that I forgot to call him the night before.  I apologized.  He was starting to tell me stories of some of his conspiracy theories, the Catholic church, the Masons and I was listening till I realized he needed to know I am not interested in the theories.  What time should we meet? “I don’t know,” he said.  Let’s say 1 PM.  Down at the movie theatre at the Steel Stacks.  “Sounds like a plan, wait.  How will I know it’s you?”  I will wear a grey blue hat, there’s an N on it for North Eastern.  I drove to the Steel Stacks, parked the car and arrived a little early.  There was a race for kids going on as I approached the theatre.  I saw this older, tan guy walk up to me. “I was telling those guys all about seeing you and how we haven’t seen each other close to forty years.”  It was Freddy and I reached out to hug him.  “No, shake hands.  Put it there.”  I shook his hand.  “You said you wanted coffee, I have to go to do, pee pee.”  Pee Pee?  He was a child in an old man’s body.  First, he locked his used bike, the rear tire looked worn.  We went inside.  “Graham Nash played here a few years ago.” I saw his performance on Long Island a few years ago.  Actually, he just played here. And he went off to the bathroom and was out of sight.  I bought a coffee and he came back within a minute, he must have assumed I was leaving him.  I thought, we’d sit down at a table or a bench and have a good chat.  That didn’t happen.  We went back outside.  He unlocked his bike.  He was very concerned that someone would want to steal his bike.  He must have lost many things through the years.  Our visit was a listening session.  For over an hour, Freddy talked about a wide variety of subjects.  But he was locked in a world from 1982.  The Karate Kid, Steven Segal, the church, Connie from Bellecrest Avenue, witches, the masons, the devil, Ted Nugent, he was sex crazed Freddy said.  Led Zeppelin, AC/DC, Evil in the world.  The Northport incident.  Working for agencies, tearing down stages and Gurney’s Inn.  But while I was with him, he had this child like energy that would not quit, he wanted to cram everything in this time we had together.  After an hour of walking back and forth around the parking lot and keeping an eye on his bike, I said I needed to leave.  “I’m sorry to tell you this,” he said and would spout some controversy.  Why do you apologize for saying something you want to share?  “I don’t want to offend you.”  Hey Fred, I have about 10 minutes.  He reminded me of my mother when he said, OK.  I will time you.  This watch has a timer.  And it was time for us to part.  It may be the last time I see him.  I will call him tomorrow and hope I can get his email address.  Fred may move back to Florida.  He carried a couple of bags, one contained books I should read.  I took pictures of the titles.  The other bag contained a jug of water and another jug of milk.  May God look out and protect Freddy.

Thank you for reading this. 

Questions for Henry Rollins on writing/reading

3/26/16 14:57 Listening to The Fall, The Real New Fall LP

I apologize since it appears the font below is not easy to read.  These were questions I posed to Henry Rollins via email the other night which I’d like to share with you.

Do you search for book stores in the cities you visit; the same way as record shops?

 ======== Not really. 

Can you please tell me what writers continue to inspire you? ======= Mostly I read journalists like Robert Fisk and historians like Eric Foner.
 Do you re-read their work the same way as you would play, Zeppelin II?  In other words, what "works for you."  ====== Rarely. 

How many books do you read in a month?

=======0 to 2. At this point, I would rather write and do other work. 

Does F Scott, This Side of Paradise still resonate or Miller's Black Spring?  If not, which books have replaced them? ========== I have not read literature for a long time. 8 years or so. Writing has replaced a lot of my reading. 

What you are currently reading?

========= The Great War for Civilization by Fisk.
Henry

A review of Henry Rollins' Before the Chop

6/14/14 08:38

“I write this to you because at this moment, this is the entire world and everything I know.”  Henry Rollins 2/2/12 Antwerp Belgium

This morning I finished Henry Rollins’ Before the Chop, LA Weekly Articles 2011-2012.  It is published on his press 2.13.61.  Last year, I bought a signed copy from his web site, http://henryrollins.com.   Signed copies are still available, unlike his new book which sold out quickly of the limited edition (1,500) signed and numbered.  A Grim Detail.   

Before the Chop consists of the original versions of articles which were published in LA Weekly.  The weekly is the ubiquitous undergound LA publication and the editors made edits (chops) and shortened the originals; which makes this book a mandatory for his die-hard readers.  The work captures Rollins at his rawest and shares the insights of his recent world travels, in cities and an venues as well as his ever changing moods. Don't take that the wrong way.  Let me clarify this by saying Mr. Rollins is an excellent reporter with a keen eye and a respect for his readers as well as his fans.  As with his previous books and spoken word performances, Rollins is intelligent, articulate and blunt.  As I read the book I felt like I was listening to him on a private tour.  In fact he was the tour guide.  I just wished the articles would continue, but like his real tour with 188 shows in 19 countries – this book concluded.  In fact the ending was an unpublished interview with Nick Cave.   

What can you expect when you read this book?  He shares his passion for music.  So let me say this here and now, if you are not a fan of rock, punk, jazz or any music in general - this book is not be for you.  And the theme of music is constant throughout which I had to remind myself was the sole reason for the articles.  Rollins shares his favorite bands, records, interviews, memories of being on tour with either Black Flag or the Rollins band as he prepared himself for a show in the city he was in.  There were some repetitious themes which can occur when you’re writing a weekly article on the music you love.  It is very clear, Mr. Rollins has an insatiable desire to see or hear, touch, taste, smell, Iggy Pop and The Stooges in mono or stereo, outtakes, wherever and whenever.  This is one reoccurring theme, and another is how essential music is for his escape from the world. “If I can’t have a stage to report to every night, I will drown my sorrows in a sea of tunes!”   Some choose alcohol or drugs or other means, Henry seeks solitude and a self-imposed perfection from his music.  He likes music a hell of a lot.  Being a Rollins reader and alright a fanatic, I feel he is fighting off the depression he wrote about in his earlier works, but that’s only my assumption.  “Several minutes later, I eat and evaluate the incredible emptiness I am feeling. The people at my shows are going to be done with me before I am done with them.  It’s going to be extremely hard to deal with the fact that it’s going to be over well before I am done.”  

So, perhaps the editing could have been tighter?  Stooges…Fun…House…Iggy…best…performer…stares at the audience.  Got it.  We will salute you Mr. Pop.  We will see Mr. Pop.  But I have listened to The Stooges based on Henry’s proclamations, and I agree: The Stooges capture/d the punk spirit.  In fact most of the bands he refers to are not to be ignored. Coltrane is another constant point, but I have to agree with this statement Rollins makes, “Just my opinion, but artistic expression is humanity at its best.  Science, technology, modern medicine are all of course fantastic- but when I put on a Coltrane album and can actually hear him push the air from his lungs into his horn to create that sound, the total and perfect humanity of that…I am unable to find the right words to express how much it moves me and what a miracle I find it to be.”  

Surprisingly, this reader was exposed more to the real Rollins, the confessional wordsmith which for legions of us, continues to gain our respect and admiration over the years.  Yet, as he moves forward seeking new bands and latching on to his favorites, he saw Dinosaur Jr. a number times in a year.  There is the lurking DC past which creeps up quite often.  Before I forget, the reason for all of the Dinosaur shows, Rollins interviewed the band on stage on a few dates.  For the record I saw the show at the Electric Factory in Philadelphia with OFF! as an opening band.  So, Henry continues to tread in the past, going back to DC where he used to live and had the last “job” he held before joining Black Flag.  In this book, he shares the opportunity he had when he came across the new owner of the house he and his mother lived in when he was a teenager.  With sensory precision, holding the banister, he brings us back to the basement with the familiar scent and the marks in the wall that he an Ian Mackaye made when shooting a pellet gun more than 30 years before.   

But hold on a second, back in 84, I doubt Henry Rollins would print in Spin magazine his guilty pleasures. “With the advent of CD’s, that best of Kansas was one of the first purchases I made, along with some of Madonna’s albums.”  Also sharing his purchases of Duran Duran, Culture Club, Men at Work.  And he tells us IF WE have a problem with it…“Bite Me!”  I don’t have a problem with it.  I understand you love music and pretty much any music.  Well, in that case I lay claim to listening to and cherishing my Haircut 100 album.  Let’s move on.  Mr. Rollins craves music and collects albums as he treks across the world, he preaches the best sound is off the vinyl.  He collects a new album a day?  Did I read that right?

                “From an early age up to now, I am still awed by the completeness of sitting alone in a room, listening to music, somewhat isolated from the hot and bothered world.  It is a small, controllable and to a great extent, perfect place.”  Henry Rollins 8/23/13 Los Angeles, CA

                The articles continue on LA Weekly and Henry can be heard on the radio spinning his tunes for his fanatics as he refers to the audience.  You can listen in on KCRW on Sunday nights and take a lesson on all of the slam bam musical history and the joy he has in spinning the turntable and his deep knowledge.  

I also saw some dates in the future; let’s see if that means Henry will be back on tour?

Thank you for reading this.

When REM played in a Roller Skating rink on Long Island

2/17/13 17:16 Home

A couple of months ago my Dad brought over some boxes that contained some of my things when I lived at my parent’s house almost 30 years ago.  There are notebooks and sketch books, water colors and an endless stream of songs especially the lyrics.  When I was eighteen my dream was to make it in a band.  I got in the band and the box has the evidence from those years when I was sending the band’s tapes to IRS records, Warner Brothers and whoever else I thought may be interested in giving us a shot.  The name of the band was The Few.  It was a high school band.   We played the variety show in High School, in fact opening the show with U2’s I will Follow.  I still know the lyrics since we practiced the song a million times.  There is the evidence in the box as well of the original name of the band, GS/G9 which is/was a German military branch or that is how I remember the other singer telling me it stood for.  For a few months he was the singer of the band, but I persuaded the group the kid couldn’t sing and he was out.  We changed the name and played The Police, Driven to Tears, REM’s 1,000,000 and The Clash’s Brand New Cadillac, The Jam’s That’s Entertainment, Led Zeppelin, Joe Jackson.  More often we practiced original songs that Bob Miller wrote.  Not many people heard these songs expect for Scott’s parents where we practiced in his room, and the twenty or so at the audition for the variety show.  I should add we played two gigs. Gallagher’s in East Northport, August 9^th 1984 and Sparks also that summer.  If you notice the picture attached, I included the Sparks flyer which we passed out.  The more kids that showed up with the flyer for your band, the chances were better - not a guarantee - the band would play there again.  Being underage was a big strike against us.  Gallagher’s was an empty restaurant and Sparks barely had what I would call a…crowd.  Sparks was the place to play in Huntington.  Vance from The Mosquitoes was there.  I was petrified; my nerves forced my voice to become hoarse by the second song.  I sounded like shit, tried to push through the set with constant squirts of Chloroseptic pain medicine behind the amp.   I can still remember the commercials for the throat relief medicine.  A heavy set actor with a distinct lisp had a sore throat, struggles to swallow.  He takes a couple of squirts, signs and says, ahh, Chloro…OH…sssseptic!”  The band eventually kicked me out.  It was my best friend who took the initiative.  Bob Miller thought it would propel me to go to college and stop dreaming of being a rock star.  Since those years I met a few wannabes like the kid who was pumping gas at the Hess who liked my Clash T-shirt.  He said he was going to sing in a band.  I told him I had the same dream.  But he looked at me; I was the kid who quit before making it and he said defiantly, “Yeah, but I am going to do it.”  Go for it, but give me five dollars of regular for the beast.  I drove a real beast - Chrysler Satellite station wagon.  Take a look at the other image, although Dad had the 8 cylinder animal - sporty with cool hot rod rims, but I felt like I was driving a whale.   Getting away from the band here…back to the music and the box of memories.  So I start pulling out pictures of me playing little league - The Dukes at Larkfield Little League.  I vaguely remember their names in the picture.  There was the kid who always had egg residue on the corners of his mouth, the other kid who had a thin moustache even at nine years-old and we all inspected the thin shadow with an odd mix of fear and trepidation.  Music.  I included pictures of a fanzine the Bob Cuomo published, Crisis.  His brother’s band The Service had a decent article.  I remember one of their songs, It couldn’t happen here….I saw them play in CB’s…the brother was cool and treated Bob and I very well.  I saw their drummer years later after a Joe Strummer concert, one of his last in Brooklyn and he couldn’t believe I recognized him.  What I wanted to write about was the night I interviewed REM when they played Good Skates or the Music Hall in Setauket as it states on REM’s postcard they sent to fans to promote their Little America tour.  This was when Reckoning was out and the hit, S. Central Rain or better known as…”I’m sorry.”   The band was making it.  Their video was on MTV.  If you don't know this song it begins with the lines, “Did you ever call?”  I wrote about The Smiths previously and this was the same time.  That summer – 1984 - I was invited to attend summer school since I failed English.  It was my rebellious time and I did not care about school.  One day I wore my REM t-shirt to summer school and one of the teachers made a comment to me like, “Hey, you know they are playing out in Setauket.”  No I didn’t.  “My wife and I are going and we can take you and a couple of your friends.”  Who was this guy?  July 17^th…So, Bob Miller and my brother Dave catch a ride.  “There’s a six pack in the back,” we can split, he tells us and enjoy.  Don’t tell your parents or else I can get fired.  I wanted to meet REM.  This was my opportunity, so I made up a fake press card and brought a tape recorder.  I gave the kid my ticket to what was a roller skating rink? I asked where I can interview the band.  “Press?”  Yes, I said press.  Go out that back door there.  I walked out and bumped into Bill Berry who thought I was someone else since he was really happy to see me.    I interviewed the whole band and they signed that faint piece of paper on top in the picture, Stipe drew a snake since I asked him to sketch.  I thought I lost this and seeing this after all of these years brought back memories of that night.  It was the first night they played Hyena.  You see me and Michael Stipe there?  Can’t believe those faces are the tired and old men we are today.  After the interview with REM I interviewed Dream Syndicate and then went back out to the venue and saw Stipe and introduced my brother and Bob to him.   Dave took the picture. Turns out Stipe had a few tokes of nature before the pic was taken.   I found a lot Del Lords posters and set lists and articles from Newsday.  They had such promise; I’d like to see them make another attempt.  There is a flyer from a Secret Service show.  There will be more entries on the local scene at the time.   When I was removed from The Few and tried another attempt with a band The Dharma Bums, Bob played guitar and we had a different band that never played a gig.   There are some black and whites pictures, one in the frame of the DJ’s from WNPT radio which played the music in the commons in Northport High School.  Some of the kids from that picture are no longer alive like my partner on our show, The M&M show – Mike Abrahamson.  He passed a few years ago.   Then there is my best friend Bob Miller who went missing after fishing in San Diego on a clear calm day almost eighteen years ago, never to be seen again.  Our music remains in this box and stored in my distant recollections.

 

The past is ripe with possibilities and regret.

Thank you for reading this

That's Paul Wetserberg from the Mats who signed this for me back in 85

Hey WBAB, Time to Play Some New Music!

Changed my car's radio settings from WBAB a radio station that is locked into music from 1983.  Serving Long Island for more than 35 years - BAB plays the same tired and worn out picks from 35 years ago.  It’s the only station that plays Zebra, who else plays this band?  Their playlist is predictable - Van Halen, AC/DC,  Billy Squier, Motley Crue, Posion, ZZ Top, Quiet Riot, Twisted Sister, Guns n Roses,  Ozzy, the same freakin Pink Floyd song at least four times in any single day and a few of the other rare eighties - cheesy bands - from the heavy metal days of old.  Each band made some great music and I like to hear them once in awhile.  Not all day and all night when I'm stuck in rush hour traffic on the LIE.  I sincerely hope this station wakes up one day and realizes many Long Islanders in their advanced and wise ages have moved onto other bands.  We are all older and more important - more diverse and don’t have to listen to the same songs when we were teens.  Back then we got in trouble, did hideous things we can't tell our kids or for a many BAB listeners can't tell our grand kids.  New music for WBAB is The Police and U2 and the elusive Pearl Jam.  There is another station on the radio and it's gaining listeners on Long Island - The Shark 94.3 out of Smithtown.  They mix Black Sabbath with STP, Black Keys, Offspring, Metallica and Foo Fighters.  That is a mix.  Notice there was no Zebra in the playlist because the band had one hit in 1983, Tell Me What You Want.   I will tell you WBAB, I want a radio station that evolves with the times…if I want oldies I can listen to WCBS…time to make some changes in Babylon. 

The jayHawks at The Beacon 10/21/11

10/21/11 18:07
In a little while I will be up at the local high school for the homecoming game, soon they will start the bon fire and burn the effigies of Qaddafi and Bin Laden. Not so. That was a joke. Last night I saw the JayHawks with Erik. It was the spur of the moment event. Each time I hear the band on WFUV, I’m curious if they’re coming around. So, I bought tickets. I don’t know the history of the band. I know they broke up and are back together. The original line up played the Beacon. I think that's what we saw. The opening act was Roseanne Cash which I have to report we missed. Traffic on the 59th St Bridge crawled into the city. The bridge is free, saves $9 in tolls. We found a spot on the street, saving $27. These amounts floated in my head since I shelled out $100 for the two tickets though Erik drove and he said he’d pay me back. For dinner we splurged and bought a Recession Meal ($5) at Papaya King, 2 hot dogs and Papaya juice and headed up to get into the theatre. There were scalpers outside. The show was not sold out. One was ready to give us two tickets for the price of one. Next time I may scalp. The crowd was older than I thought. The venue was ornate. The last time I was in the Beacon was to see REM on their Little America tour for their second album, Reckoning. Erick bought two beers, $17 and we went in. The band wasn’t on yet. The crowd was better dressed than us, the middle aged woman were - beautiful - in dresses, men in sports jackets and we stood there in our sweat jackets and scruffy hair. We took our seats after I bought a round for us. The stage was sparse, no back drop, just the stage lights. A drunkish gentlemen sitting next to me asked, “What’s your favorite JayHawks song?” I don’t know any. Here’s the deal, I have this fear of being put on the spot like that. Reminds me when I was in 8th grade and hanging out with Bob Pelton at the pizzeria in East Northport, MaMa Jean’s II. We don’t know where the first one was. This girl came up to me, some hippie chick who was in a grade older than me and asks, “What’s your favorite band?” I don’t know why but I wanted to impress her and I said, “Led Zeppelin.” I guess this was the answer everyone in the place was giving her so she wanted some validation - I knew what the fuck I was talking about. This brings me back to drunk fuck sitting next to me. She asked me all of these decades before, “What’s your favorite song by Zep and don’t say Stairway to Heaven.” It was the only sing I knew the title of. She pointed her finger at me as if she knew I was talking shit. I said nothing back to her. Should have asked her why she wanted to know. Why do you care? If I was 46 back then I may have: instead of getting embarrassed -when she asked me who my favorite band was. If I was honest and said, Boston and their song Don’t Look Back it would have been a closed door case. I was the ass and I was an ass last night since I fumbled out, “Ah, I don’t know any titles…I like what I hear on WFUV. I think they sound cool, sort of like Big Star.” Drunk fuck had a blank look on his face and said slowly, “I like their song, Blue.” I nodded and turned my attention back to Erik. Here’s the review for the show. Good. Most of the songs were off their new CD, which I’m listening to as I’m typing – the song Stand Out In the Rain “Where you going all alone…were you gone.” It was beautiful, since the lyrics brought me back to a distant moment when I was in the rain with an old girlfriend. They have a sort of Neal Young twist as well. They played High Water Blues with the singer removing his guitar and holding the mic and appearing so awkward, like when a teacher performs with his teachers band in front of the students at the school's variety show. He danced a little, and knew he couldn’t dance and then kept his attention on their keyboardist who would reassure him with a slight smile from her lips. It’s alright honey, just go back to the guitar. No, please don’t pump your fist…oh, there you…go. Since I’m not a huge fan and there were at least twelve huge fans in the audience, who waited after the show for some of the members to sign their CD, I felt like I was wrapped in a sort of distant quasi culture. I’m curious to learn more about the musicians. The drummer sang lead on one song and was in perfect harmony with the lead guitarist. After the show we crawled back on the 59th bridge back to Queens, and I made it home this morning like a rock star at 2:30. The college kids at corner house were holding a huge party, but I put a end to it with a call to the cops since I wasn’t going to confront fifty drunk college kids and their plastic cups filled with warm beer. The cops came and silence rose into the night for some sleep before the sun rose over our house.