![]() ![]() But as it stands, Marty’s in jail, Kim and Jone want nothing to do with me, and I’ve been vocally castrated. Had things worked out, this performance, this song, would have catapulted the band into a bigger, better sphere. Visually speaking, we’re four blobs pulsing in relative unison.Įven still, it’s clear we were great. The sound is terrible, a wall of discord, void of distinction save my vocals, which somehow came out audible. There’s roughly forty seconds of us playing before the amateur videographer begins filming the incident at the bar. She played this one and only gig with us. Me on vocals and lead guitar, shaggy-headed and unshaven Marty on bass, his white T-shirt a mundane façade hiding monstrous flesh beneath Kim on drums, sneered lip and arms bulging as she pounds away, her hair a murder of crows in flight and our newest member Jone on rhythm guitar, tall and elegant like a European model. After the disclaimer, there we are, Phalanx, under a blue-lit haze, grainy and somewhat out-of-focus, on stage at Tavern Belmondo. The video is a masochistic salt to the wound. I have statements to make, commentaries about the state of our culture and politics. I tried to be a songwriter and a singer, but I can’t do that anymore, unless the words, like pretty much all of them before “Thick,” are about myself. IT CONTAINS POWERFUL SUBLIMINAL TEXT AND IMAGES THAT WILL IMPLANT SUICIDAL TENDENCIES IN YOUR MIND.Įvery time I read that message, I do indeed get Suicidal Tendencies stuck in my head, specifically lyrics from their classic “Institutionalized”:Īnd it just doesn’t work out the way I wanted to. ![]() WARNING: IF YOU VOTED FOR GOVERNOR YVETTE POLSON, DO NOT WATCH THIS VIDEO. ![]() For now, you can still watch Marty’s creation online. ![]()
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