I flew out to San Juan, and was SUPER stoked. I was hoping this would cleanse my brain. I also had such a great time last time I was there; met great folks, ate well, saw so many amazing things… So I got there, and everything was cool. One thing was that my Florida driver came along cuz he wanted to, and even tho he said he would be invisible, wasn’t, and added stress, and in the end, the dude said a lot of weird shit about me/to me, even though I never said I was a travel-agent or babysitter. No hard feelings, though.
My show was bumped from the Saturday to the Sunday, and I had only heard of this a week before (or less), and that kind of bummed me out, cuz I could have played a Saturday show in Florida or something. But I was assured it was for the best, cuz there was a very popular Salsa show happening on Saturday. My friends got me in, and yes, the show was fantastic! But it was also 25$, and I really didn’t see any people there who would be at one of my shows. I thought maybe it was cuz one of the promoters just wanted to go. Fair enough, but the assumption left a bad taste in my mouth the next day (Sunday), when the show, which was supposed to start at 6pm, only started closer to 9 or 10.
The bar I played was really nice and the owner-guy was, also. But I was slipping into darkness as I saw Los Vigilantes play (who were really great) with no real working mics, etc… I knew what was coming… As I set up, they informed me that the soundman had taken off and they would have to do something. My usual set up of splitting between bass and guitar amp would have to be nixed, as I borrowed a small guitar amp. Already my sound was thinning out. And then the broken vocal micstands. Not enough mics for equipent. Then the feedback, and smiles from the promoters etc… What you have to understand is that I have been in that situation a billion times, and that the idea of ‘this is punk!’ doesn’t escape me, but it DOESN’T MAKE IT OK. I am in Puerto Rico. I flew out to play, and am fighting sound, which although beneficial to a ‘punk band’, doesn’t work for mine. I rely on my voice and melody to carry stuff, for example. And again, I have been down this road a million times. Just not into it.
So we all start trying to figure out stuff and I hear someone laugh, and perhaps wrongly, think it’s directed at me. This causes me to start being really surly. I dunno if it’s the thought of being alone, so far away from home or what, but I start saying dumb shit like ‘Go fuck a turtle’ and the inane ‘I’ll eat the shit off of your Grandma’s cunt’. What does it mean? Your guess is as good as mine. What I will say is that it was rude and stupid of me. BUT I played a seemingly intense and GREAT show, aside from calling dudes ‘cunts’ etc… I was enraged, but a lot of what I was doing was your boring, run-of-the-mill, punk baiting. The reaction from these white-belt ‘punks’ who were so ‘punk’ about my ‘punk’ sound issues was very surprising – they seemed betrayed or something. Afterwards, I got into some verbal shit, unfairly, with the seriously awesome Carlos (Davila 666) and his beautiful girl, Minina. I decided (as did they), that it was best I leave – I got the boot. So I then said ‘fuck it’, and decided to leave the island, altogether, bummed and upset at myself. I left the next day. I remain very sorry for a lot of my behaviour.
Next thing I know, I am on Facebook, and I started getting a bunch of angry messages, at first from local, thin-skinned hipsters, then Davila 666 members and their little fanclub of ‘cool’ knobs. Listen to me very closely: I will fully admit that I said a lot of terrible things at the show. Sure. BUT what kind of GARBAGE were these fucking fake-ass, hipster, corporate-cock-sucking, trend-hopping cunts in Davila 666 saying and spreading? That all of my bullshit was a PERSONAL ATTACK on Puerto Rico, that I am racist (!!), etc… Absolutely wrong, dangerous and irresponsible. One of the cunts even Facebooked me death-threats (not the only one) and talked shit about my Mom, Canada, called me a ‘white bitch’ and ‘gringo’ racist (?!?!?). This ‘punk’ band, that fucking relies on hipster-assed ‘gringos’ to listen to their fake-assed prefab music, is calling me out??? When I was right there, alone, and he didn’t say shit to my face? Add onto that ANOTHER member of this flavor-of-the-week, meat-grinder-of-popular-and-obvious-modern-influence-into-pap, BULLSHIT band, who had told me the night before he didn’t even listen to or LIKE ‘garage rock’, telling me how they (Davila 666) had been making this music as long as I have, telling me I am bitter cuz I live under Khan’s shadow, that all I do is rip off 60’s R&B stuff, that I am delusional, that they have soooo many friends, etc…
Let me address this all, right now: I am only bitter that these shit-ass bands are able to exist and defecate all over a scene people like myself, my friends, my heroes, my peers and even my enemies built up and/or celebrated, with love. That you think having tons of friends means anything to you says it all: who gives a fuck??? You suck cocks so you can step stones. ‘Success’ to these kinds of bands is all about some delusional notion of ‘fame’ (albeit, SO FUCKING SMALL SCALE), making fast friends, sponsors, money, doing drugs (woooowwwwwww, mannnn), and all of the other bullshit accoutrements associated with fucking mainstream idealism which many in this fucking scene have been fighting against for years – striving to ‘make it’ is fucking SHIT. Case fucking closed. I don’t live in shadows, cuz I don’t fucking worry about popularity and friends and obsess over media coverage and clothes and bullshit. I have faith in my MUSIC. I am NOT a politician. I am a musician. Your band name… You fucking covered ‘Hangin On The Telephone’!!! ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS???
When a kid discovers music that affects his or her heart in 20 years from now, it may not be mine, but it certainly won’t be the aural Rubik’s Cube that these bands are. Fucking PUTRID, trendy bullshit. And you seriously think you have paid dues, done this as long as I? Really?! I have DESTROYED myself for this music for YEARS, because I NEED to, to SURVIVE, to keep a semblance of sanity. Not to wear white fucking sunglasses. You think all I do is 60’s R&B ripoffs? I have released so much stuff, touching upon so much shit that I love… I can’t even begin to entertain the fucking gall of that statement. So these ‘punks’ threaten me. They disrespected me and my family. Why? Cuz I was rude at a show.
Fuck all of these ‘bands’. Seriously. When you decide to make a gothic swing/ska dubstep album, I will STILL be RIGHT HERE, sleeping on floors and playing my heart out to a rock’n’roll beat. All of you who are playing to ‘make it’, to mirror the mainstream: enjoy your slumming, but do NOT fuck with me. You may not even realize how much I affected and influenced your own music (seriously, you may wanna actually take a listen to my catalog, or listen to stuff, in general, more than 3 years old), cuz your information was disseminated in the same way your band’s name and music is: stupidly, ruthlessly and wrongly, immediacy being the name of the game. You will soon find something else, running with daddy’s money onto the next thing, glowsticks in hand.