Showing posts with label rockin'. Show all posts
Showing posts with label rockin'. Show all posts

Thursday, November 15, 2012

…on brotherhood

"Thrilla, who's that baldy talking to father Kurt?"

"That's Craig from sick of it all and agnostic front"

"I only recognize that guy who played gits. The blocky guy who played the five string guitar"

"Oh he was here the afternoon".

Big names came out…

Small names came out…

Nameless jackasses like myself came out…

For two days…

Jim has packed the room…

To see his closed casket…

And for folks from the scene to pay respect…

And tell stories about the time they and jim did…

The word that folks threw around a lot these last two days was…

"Brother"

How you doing brother?

How you holding up brother?

Jim was like a brother to me

It's terrible that our brother was taken so soon?

That's how it is.

Folks don't come out to a wake on the most easternest part of queens to make appearances…

We came to honor our brother…

And we came to honor the wife and child he left behind…

And his family…

And to weep over the hole that jim has left in our lives.

Sleep well…

We hope that you're organizing a benefit for us on the other side.

—the bastard

Monday, November 12, 2012

a time for everything…

father Kurt from the six posted a piece he wrote as a liner note piece for the showerheads greatest hits package umpity ump years ago.

it reminded the bastard of the Ramones show that happened at the church…

yeah the fhillz finest played at my church…

he followed up later about flying in for the funeral tomorrow.

I uses to see father Kurt at shows…

now I'll see him at memorials…

a time for everything by tull comes on the iPhone…

again my playlist mocks me…

the bastard cracks a smile…

life is funny…

death is funnier…

best give her a smile.

—the bastard

Sunday, November 11, 2012

living is a young man's game…

When the bastard was young…

He used to pack on over to our lady of Lourdes on a Friday night…

Maybe sneak a couple beers out of someone's fridge or just go up to efroni's and buy underage…

And go see the battle of the bands.

The bastard played there a time or three but, that's a different story.

I wanna talk about jim.

Jim sang for a band called Norman bates and the showerheads and they headlined one night along with the six and violence and ultra violet confusion…

I don't remember much of that show from the showerheads but, they were loud, they rocked, and their big songs were a tore up version of if I could save time in a bottle and their closer, "Marlboro man" which I think involved cigarettes being thrown out into the audience which was rather provocative for a show in a church basement.

I also saw them open for the ramones in the church gym.

Flash forward: I'm at one of no redeeming's backyard bbqs and I hadn't been back to the scene for a bit and jim was there and we were reintroduced.

Jim pointed a skinny finger at me and said, "you used to deliver papers to me", and I did.

"89-22 220th street", I replied. We laughed and hada few beers.

I met his wife…

I drank with a satanist later that evening…

I smoked a lot of cigarettes…

The nice lady may have driven home that night…

Might have been better that way.

No redeeming would have a BBQ pretty much once or twice a summer and we'd chat in passing and he has always great to talk to.

You see, jim never left the thorough borough…

He was part of the scene here…

An elder statesman…

An idol…

An artist…

A frontman…

And when I last saw him, he was a giver

Flash forwarder: the last time I saw jim, I went to a benefit at the trash bar, one year ago tomorrow. His old bass player, J garrino had past away and a scholarship was set up in his honor.

Jim was the first guy I saw at the show.

He gave me a big hug…

thanked me for coming down…

Then promptly ushered me to hit the stage to catch the last two songs for no redeeming's set.

That night the showerheads, who had organized the event, only played two or three songs because of the full bill but, jim filled in for another past member of the six and violence for their set…

And at the time, it reminded me how much the six is a little less without paulie singing for them but, to have jim in was apprapo. J was their bass player too and it was a good send off.

Now: I sit in a basement in the old homestead banging this out and i realize that all of the old things in my life are going away and they won't be coming back and until old age takes these moments from me, I get to keep them.

I was on a camping trip last fall to k-love's bachelor party and Jim's guitarist was in tow. After a bottle of scotch, he declared the rock and roll lifestyle, a young mans game.

Perhaps he's right. Perhaps it is a young mans game and dying gets to be an old man's game.

You see, last night jim had lost his bout with lung cancer.

And a guy who touched many lives with his music and his art is gone and we're a little less for it.

But we're also a little more for knowing him.

He will be missed.

—the bastard


Tuesday, November 15, 2011

…on your head buddy

I never met j garino.

well maybe I did.

I've been to so many shows in the q-ville.

I've been to so many BBQ's in the q-ville as well.

so I may have met him.

but it doesn't really matter. j garino's music had touched my life before his sudden death last year.

I think he died of an aneurism.

but that doesn't matter either.

I just know that the civic pride I feel for my old hood is built around the two bands he was in that I'd see on the regular and along with no redeeming social value, they paid tribute to the man on Saturday night.

a bastard never felt so honored to hand over his cover charge knowing that it was going to something better than a case of pbr's for the trash bar's inventory.

you see

his old band mates from Norman bates and he shower heads and the six and violence set up a scholarship in his name so that some young kid who wanted to make some music could do so one day.

and there was a show.

it always astounds me how queens village will always come correct and show Brooklyn how to throw a punk rock show.

that's not just some bluster I'm throwing out there to make you feel bad Brooklyn, it's a known quantity. you don't have to cry about it.

we know you ain't got it in ya.

—the bastard