Black Rebel Motorcycle Club

Ask iAN

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How does one feed the soul....hum....

I keep trying to figure out what  a lot of those men and women that were in the Warsaw ghetto had...the ones that survived...or those in the Auschwitz concentration camp that survived.  I met an old woman at a bus stop on Hollywood Blvd...she had a long number tattooed to her arm...said she was a survivor...i got down on my knees and kissed her arm, right on the tattoo..and told her I was sorry...we got on the bus and I never saw her again...I wasn't trying to upset her by any means it was just my way of celebrating her spirit and refusal to be beaten.  I saw her like a saint, a very tired and withered saint who had seen far too much more than any pussyboy or leather toed boy would ever know...i felt as thou my adams apple would rinse open and my heart cough up and out of it like a PEZ candy...right onto the star of Walt Disney.

Feeding the soul...I do suspect that it takes a decent amount of solitude.  Chimes are nice block beyond Venice beach...sea salt air is quite is 8 hours of sleep and Odwalla juice.  I also think that food from India when consumed and sweated out helps to heal the body so it can better protect it's inhabitant.

I like to keep close to animals.  Dogs, cats, birds, Chinese goldfish, and also happy drunk people that are merry.  I also think it's important to drop a dollar every now and then into the hands of an individual in need, yet these things are what i run with to build my spirit and perhaps not so much for then again...fuck the others, I am talking about me, Kinski!  Shit!  Did I say that?!  I meant iAN!

I know that when I cum deep into somebody I am in Love with, well it feels like I just got baptised.  I can't box moterfuckers for a 3 day spell, but hey I am a lover not a fighter...unless you fuck with my sister.
I know i feel good when i read all Holy books (as long as they are in English, my Korean translation is pure dogshit, I so suck at it right now) but all good books Holy, romantiqueand even the vulgar build yer up.  Loving and remembering the dead is a big attribute...keeps me on my zag arsed path.

Most important besides the skies of night and day above your head and water to your right and left and air in the lungs quivering just behind our tits is Music.

Too many people to list from all around the world
from Fela Kuti to Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan to Ravi Shakar, Johnny Cash,  Cuban Music from the 50's/60's, and of course black rebel motorfuckingcycle club (wink) but whatever cools and restores your engines and builds you back up again from a long night and love is the key and a healthy pinch of the sorrows of yesterday, sad to say...

A good dose of 100mgs SPIRITUALIZED always helped me...keep your spine protected, a shot of whiskey every blue moon and dance...even if its just on the inside...and like Christ real or not real...generosity counts....a four finger count handful of good friends come in handy to lift the spirit back up and into good shape.   A healthy distaste for modern politics and a gag reflex to fox news is quite refreshing to the spirit.  Be like Christ & Scrooge as well, and remember that it is always better to give than recieve...especially if you are in the ring with Mike Tyson.

What do I love most about Women besides having sex with them....hum?

I know I truly love giving Head.
Nothing so much as quinches the thirst of a man of the road as ....let's just leave it at that shall we?

Unlike some brutes, I love and adore very strong women and by that I do not mean the bovine and pig headed manly women...but women who stand their ground.  I don't care their shape or size, how short or tall, or what colour they are, or if they are rich or poor...I like women whom are soft and yet fierce. 
My sister once told me that the best thing she liked about me was that i could find beauty in any woman, cruel or kind and in all shapes, sizes and colours....and i liked that...I felt she had seen me.  I love and understand women that are too scared to move, I understand the woman at the truck stop that just shot that sorry son of a bitch in the groin with a 38 special, i like when women play instruments and I like when women vote, ride motorcycles, heal people, laugh, cry, become violent, i like that women are like animals that cannot and refuse to be tamed. 

My favorite writer Mr. LeGallienne once said of woman, that she is as fair as the four elements...air, fire, water and earth.  Some women are indeed a planet unto themselves...yum yum.  If I REALLY had to choose what I like most about women, then I would have to say that

LEARNING from them is what I adore and Love most about Women.  A man can make you 4 wheels and drive you nowhere but crazy...but a woman can teach you about the universe and keep you dreaming even after you are dead.

If Women ruled the world
War would be obsolete.

333rd Question - I was named after a folk duo of ian & sylvia...and because my parents were half beatnick, half hippy and all looked like Brian without the BR, so it was iAN when stoned and boozed up proper (sp) e'an sounds like a true cuntcha like that twat on beverley hillbillies 9012blow.

How did I become acquainted with the rebels...hum?

Kind of Hard to sum up a decade in a few words....yer know?

but here goes *

I was very depressed
lost a lot of weight and found myself at an old mate's flat out in Venice, California
he got some free 45 singles up by the beach and was adamant that i should hear them on my visit.
So when he pissed off to his joe baxi joab and twittled the fuck off...I cracked open the front door to let the ocean air in and then i cracked open two beers and put my blue shades on...and put the needle on the groove of a record by a band i had never heard of called BLACK REBEL MOTORCYCLE CLUB...that name..latched onto me like a pet snake...and then the opening sounds of

White Palms/Psalms

and I was fucked...

fucked in that open rushing blue sea air

I became mad
I became sad
I let go and fell all over the room like somebody on e's & whizz and listening to a storm in heaven for their first time...

and I hounded the record shoppe for more 45s, i begged them so hard that they gave them to me with a smile on their fat fuckun' faces...

i couldnae quit listening.....and then the debut album came out with Nick Jago looking more like CHAKA than even Dave Grohl and Pete & Robert looking like long lost friends and the album sounded like music I failed to get out with my band the Doyles...THIS BRMC had done it...and it took me a spell to figure the voices...i had no guide, no Virgil whatsoever....and I left Los Angeles...but tracked them down live where ever and when ever I could...I was broke, but i found a fuckun' about feeding your Texas they opened for Spiritualized...and I sat with J. Spaceman and Peter and nearly got into fisticuffs with Nick...poor lad, drank one of them sex u up dranks me was an accident, but it got pretty willy nilly for a fort second or two....and I just happened to fall in love with them as people first and musicians 2ndly...including Michael, Ben and of course the big Lion heart, like that can't come from shit arse comes from people with wolf, owl, cat, dog and ocean eyes...and then Leah came along and pierced the music with a dash of the lightest chrome pink to give the machine some sunset and that was all she and the machine ever wrote...fuck if I's a piss arse miserable Sunday night and it's quiet as a dead witches piss boots round this was

good meeting you, hope to see you round the next tour

and bless yer heart
good health as always and good love to you and yours
and thank you for the was a trip down the auld memory lane...



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