5/26/2004 12:07:45 AM|||TEX|||I love comic book sound effects like BLAM! SPLAT! KACHUNK! and of course the classics THUPPA THUPPA THUPPA (helicopter flying overhead) and VREEEET!!! (sometimes used for ray guns), so I thought I might as well use one as the title for today's post to characterize the pace of my life over the past week or so.
About 18 months ago I became a member of one of the most oddly configured bands in the history of rock and roll. That band is the Lust Killers, a band fronted by my buddy Adam who I met when his old band, American Heartbreak, opened for my old band, Three Years Down several years ago. The Lust Killers are sort of the ultimate side project band. All of us are in other bands (or were when we joined up with Adam). Most recently Adam was fronting the re-formed Lords of the New Church while they were touring through Europe last year. Chuck, our bass player, was in the Swinging Utters and Mark, our drummer, was in the Flipsides.
I probably pestered Adam to let me jump in and play guitar with the Lust Killers about a hundred times when I was in Three Years Down and he always graciously blew me off. When TYD imploded in the fall of 2002 and the guy who had been playing second guitar in the Lust Killers was too busy for it Adam relented and we had so much fun playing together it should have been declared illegal, or at least a bit obscene. Adam was due to take off for the UK to join up with the Lords that March, so we practiced and set up one big party out our rehearsal space for all of our friends and played until we'd run out of songs we knew (and even a few we only half knew). By all accounts it was a great show and we certainly had loads of fun. Then Adam was off for the UK while Chuck and Greg (who was drumming for the LKs at the time) headed off on a US tour with the Utters. The plan was that when we all got back we'd head out on a two week western US tour and do some recording to finish up a well overdue Lust Killers CD.
That's about where it all fell apart. Adam discovered that when he came back from Europe that his household had relocated to Chicago. Meanwhile Chuck and Greg came back from the Utters tour getting along about as well as a pair of ornery hedgehogs with a case of pinworms locked in a box the size of a toaster. All bets were, at that point, off. I busied myself with my recording work, doing demos for a few bands and put the word out that I was ready, willing and able to play bass for the right band. I told Adam that when he figured out how we could still be a band with him in Chicago, me and Chuck out here and no drummer that he should let me know. He figured it out earlier this year and this week we'll be playing some shows around the Bay Area and do some recording the next week. If all goes well we may be tramping through Europe later in the year. We'll see.
For now I'm just winded. Chuck, Mark and myself have been practicing as often as we could (and bless their little pointed heads for being patient while I relearned songs I hadn't played in over a year) and we've blasted through two practice sessions since Adam arrived in town on Monday. *whew*
I really love playing music. Every guy in a band says that and I wish I had more adequate words to express how I really feel about it. Music just keeps saving my life over and over again. It's been doing that for me since I was a wee sprat who sat on the end of the piano bench at home while my older sister practiced for her conservatory auditions. Music pulled me through the dark days after my dad left us, the amazingly fucked up teenaged years I endured, growing up under severe protest when I was in college, a lousy relationship with a woman who tried to kill me with a kitchen knife, the death of my father, and now it's pulling me through the worst relationship troubles I've ever had.
I know some of the guys in Fracas read this, and I also know that Adam and the Lust Killers have stopped by here from time to time to see what I was babbling about. I just want to say to all of you guys, right here on the interweb - thanks. Thanks for giving me something to look forward to and a way to vent some of the shit that's corked up inside of me.
Ok, that's enough mush to choke a gator. Time to hit the hay. G'night Missus Callabash,... wherever you are.