Danzig = Insanity

Last weekend the local crew got together and went to the Los Lobos show. The concert itself was really very good and one of the highlights was when one of the lead Lobos (the one that wears the dark Ray Bans all the time) came into the bar we were drinking at before the show and sang with one of the local mini-mariachi groups that walk around to the different Downtown bars and restaurants and sing for the guests. And it was in that very same bar, after the show, that my life took an unexpected turn.

It started out with a seemingly innocent comment made by my buddy Jack. He stated something to the effect that Danzig was the lead singer of The Cult. My wife, being a closet Cult fan, quickly chastised Jack. At first, I thought we were going to get a challenge and then at least a bet out of the disagreement (if not a knife fight, a pistol duel, or some such act in the name of defending honor). But in the drunken disarray the conversation thread meandered on in a different direction.

Later than night as the clock wound around the wee hours of the morning, my wife and I were driving home and jamming to some tunes when she said, “Hey, it’s Danzig!” I listened and then said something to the effect of, “I hate Danzig” or “Danzig is a douchebag”. She then got quite angry with me because it wasn’t actually Danzig at all: it was The Cult and she was just making a joke.

As the following week progressed, I ended up hearing two additional Cult songs on the radio and I must say: the lead singer really does sound like Glen Danzig! I can certainly understand why Jack would have got them confused.

But that’s not the point of the story, and neither is this:

About 12 years ago or so, probably in the year 1995, I was having a little party with some of my friends in my little apartment in Niles, Ohio. My buddy Rick was there with what I think was his new girlfriend or maybe his new wife (most of the night is now a vague fog to me). Some how the topic of conversation turned to Danzig and I stated how I thought he was a tool or some such insult. Rick’s lady friend took great offense to my comment. She was a music minor in college (playing the trumpet? Flute? No I think trumpet) and went on to explain that Danzig was actually a good musician and can play a bunch of different instruments.
After listening to her argument I made a statement to the effect of, “I think he’s a fucking twat”. She got visibly pissed at that point and I don’t recall us speaking the rest of the night. You’ve got to love beer.

But that’s not the point of the story, this is:

For the last couple weeks I’ve developed a hypothesis that either my buddy Bud or I am going crazy. There have been quite a few clues to support this idea but I won’t bore you with the details especially since there is at least a 50% chance that I’m the one that is insane so these clues would probably sound like the ramblings of a lunatic anyhow.

Now, more so than ever, I fear that it is I who has gone off the mental deep end, leaving Bud relatively sane I suppose. Not necessarily normal for sure, but sane.

You see, Random Acts of Danzig (or RAD) don’t happen to sane people. If the normal human lifespan is something like 75 years, you should really never have a RAD. And if you were to be one of the statistically unlucky ones to have one it should be limited to one and only one.

Random Acts of KISS are fine as are Random Acts of Deep Purple because these bands have a deep body of work that is relatively well known. Statistically speaking they have left their mark upon our society to the point that they will enter your lives at certain times whether you listen to them or not. It is inevitable and cannot be avoided.

But Random Acts of Danzig? Come on, Danzig is a jag-off and he only really had one song that could remotely be called a hit (Mother) and it still sucked balls. The vast majority of people will sail through life without even realizing an abomination like Danzig even exists.

So why am I experiencing two RADs in 12 years? I fear it is because the fabric of my mind is starting to unravel. My soul has now tapped into a dark place where all the horrors of our collective lives are stored. Soon, the un-harnessed power of my mind will cross time and space and come into direct contact with Those Whose Names Must Not Be Mentioned and the super freaky shit will really hit the fan.

Let’s face it: my shit is doomed. My advice to you is grab your popcorn and watch the final acts of this show play out as I sink into immeasurable madness. And if you see me running around in my underwear, waving a gun, and screaming about the darkness on the edge of the shadows of my vision, I recommend you turn around and run the other way. Fast.

-David

I guess I'm just and old man

I really want to buy Mojo Nixon’s “Bo-Day-Shus” album. The problem is that I think it is out of print. I was online a couple days ago to look at my options and I don’t really care for either of them.

Option #1 is to buy a used copy for $30 on CD. I don’t care for this option because I just don’t like paying over MSRP for music. It’s not like the artist is making all that extra profit. It’s just some dipshit that doesn’t realize he should be rocking out to his CDs rather than selling them.

Option #2 is to buy the whole album as an .mp3 download. I certainly cannot argue with the price at only $8. The other benefit is that I listen to my music collection about 99% of the time in the form of .mp3s anyway. I rip all my CDs to my computer and use that or my .mp3 player to play the songs.

But while Option #2 is convenient, I struggle with making the transaction. There is something about not physically possessing the CD that disturbs me. Why is that?

As I analyzed my fear of buying an album on .mp3 my first thought went to the CD packaging. I wouldn’t get the album cover. Nor would I get the liner notes and possibly the lyrics. I also wouldn’t get the satisfaction of sliding it into the CD rack with all its brothers and sisters that form the intimidating wall of rock in my living room.

But are any of those reason’s really good enough to pay $30 for a used CD when I could just spend $8 for the download?

Probably not.

What we have here is a case of me being an old man. I suspect that I’m going through the same moral dilemma the last generation went through when they were horrified to realize that some new releases would not come out on vinyl and they would have to buy it on CD. I think I’m just clinging to the old technology because that is what I’m familiar with and therefore it is very comfortable.

Because in the end, come on, am I ever going to actually play the physical CD once I rip it to .mp3? Am I ever going to look at the pictures more than once or refer to the liner notes when my first instinct when researching a band is the internet?

So why can’t I just push the button and buy the .mp3 album?

This is the part of getting old I don’t like. I can live with taking 4 or 5 times as long to recover from a hard night of drinking. I can take waking up every night to take a piss and then dribbling it everywhere because my urethra is played out. I can live with a metabolism that has all but ground to a complete halt. But I can’t handle the irrational notion that what I had in my past was the best just because it was from the “good old days”.

Alas, even though I see that is what’s happening it is still very hard to overcome. What a powerful force the “good old days” are. And if I can’t break out of this funk, I may as well just give in and start eating peanut brittle and watching re-runs of the Lawrence Welk show.

So I ask you to wish me luck, because there is only so long a sane man can go without listening to “Gin Guzzlin’ Frenzy”. Something will have to come to a head sooner rather than later.

The clock is ticking,
-David