Black Rebel Motorcycle Club

Ask iAN

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  I can tell you this Flo.  Everything I hate about Music in the last 60 years?  They are the opposite.  Like some strange wooden electric plasma that just gets reshaped, added down, broken down, stitched together, fibers are added...juices are added and subtracted, medicines are snuck in, spirits are introduced, and this mass constantly gets shredded, stomped, like clay and some of this plasma...this music sticks to you like a lover you can't get enough of ...but sometimes this plasma sticks to you like the odor of a Grandpa who hasn't washed his codge in 7 weeks and you can't get too far'nough from it!  Music is like math, sometimes science, sometimes very bad science and out comes bad music for bad people...

Some have said that music soothes the lion but have you ever been to a gangsta rap concert high on crack during an outbreak of violence?  I will tell you that...nope..I haven't either, but still!   Do you remember a band called POCO?  They had a hit song called "Susannah" ring a bell?  Not only has that song been forced on me at stores, riding in cars, at restaurants and at clubs, but you have no idea how much retinal damage that song has caused me.  Nearly caused me to perform my own retinal detachment (forcibly removing one's own eyeballs from their sockets).

Say I am at a restaurant and seated next to me is a couple.  She has blond feathered hair, she's wearing white satin pants and a cheap blue tube top.  Across from her is some razzamatazz randy arsed guido wanna-be...he's 120 pounds full of bad speed.  He is balding worse than the crypt keeper from scratchin' his scalp lookin' for dope and has pasted the hair clumps to his upper lip with super glue to give the look of a puffy moustache.  His pink shirt is wide open, fake gold chains, chest hair that looks like cat whiskers and fake gold rings all in the shape of horse shoes with fake diamonds lining the center and his fingers are orange from diggin' in his meatball plate...his ball hair moustache is turning orange as well...he hasn't had any food for 6 days cause he's been tweakin' his ding a ling off like a fuckmook.  Now my point is this.
Susannah by POCO comes through the overhead stereo system and these two next to me just fucking lunge at each other like tigers!  POCO is in the air, NOT Love.
Her red lipstick is pressed against his lipless ball fur pucker so hard i think his dentures are shattering, I shriek in pure Horror and pull back!  Next thing i know he has his skeletal fingers hunching her buns like a witch exercising her boney fingers on a baby's skull and my eyes are scanning the room for the fire exit, she is yanking at her tube top with one tan hand and with the other she is reaching for his snake skin belt and I knock over the table, smash sideways into every damn diner in the joint, hit the fire exit, sounding the alarm and I am gone...  That is the music of...POCO.

IF i made you a list of how many bands have an ill effect on me well I can tell you this.  By the time i was finished.
Dick Clark and Kieth Richards would both be dead.
A cure for Cancer would be old news
Jesus would have done been here and gone again.
That's how long it would take me.

I still get enlightened by music I have never heard of and it excites me...the only problem is that most of them are long gone
and dead.  It's still uplifting to be fortunate enough to hear their works.  I doubt there will come a day when you see me bopping around like a lost flippant and coy too shy to talk on my own cellphone teenager, at a gig given by the group The Drums.  I can't see me dancing to their hit single " I Felt Stupid" and indeed I hope they do.

Formula has always been what sells and once in a while somebody slips by that formula with no formula really at all...just their own self made horse brand...I dunno...and then the masses sway like the ocean taking a hard left and then next thing you know, they are selling grunge clothing at your local shopping mall and you find yourself in a sea of...sorry...I lived through it and like any shell shocked's just too damn frighting to even speak of!  Sooner more than later...everyone drops their mall grunge gear into a bin bag and donates it to the salvation army and flips on the radio or goes to BEST BUY and ask what's in...and then the ocean of the masses takes a hard right and everybody looks like KISS with tits.

I am trying to get on the warpath towards the essence of yer question...and does the music of BRMC help us to become better people? 
In my own shabby arsed and unorthodox opinion, i think the fans that keep coming back after each record are already pure individuals coming together to form one super huge wolf pack of certain ideals, lots of stepped on hearts and little wolves that have been disillusioned with the world around us...the politics, the lies, BP OIL SPILL comes to mind...and people that feel bogged down by the generiqueness growing everywhere like a fungus that won't stop...McDonalds in Prague comes to mind....i don't know if the music of BRMC makes us better people, cause i am still an amazing asshole at times...I would go on as to say i think the music makes us feel BETTER about living in the world that is growing more mundane and monotonous around us...I mean look at the cars now days...fuckin' square eggs...and I can't tell a BMW from a Honda and everybody thinks they are unique...Good Lord! 
I remember when the front and back seat of a car were like leather divans...ever had sex in a bucket seat?
Why do you think my ass is where my shoulders should be?  I'm not a hunchback you know...I made the mistake
of shagging in a bucketseat.

Which Element do i find special in the music of BRMC?
i can't truly say for it is something like trying to describe what you liked best when you felt that ghost walk through you, or the hand of a specter grace your shoulder...or when you fall head over heels in an instant as if your heart was snagged from your breast leaving you stunned with upside down valentines in your eyes, your knees weak and your feet lost in art nouveau clouds...trying to describe why we are drawn like moths to
haunted houses when we are kids...or
majik tricks when we are kids and even now...

I mean you can't break down romantic love.  It's's beyond us...I mean haven't you ever fallen in love with a real right bastard??
I have!
Your Mother may ask you what do you find appealing about this new gentleman you have been seeing?
He has nice cheekbones, a square jaw, white teeth, a good job, drives a car with bucket seats, a BMW....or was it a VOLVO Mother?....
He keeps a very clean flat, he likes art, he is hung like the sword of King Arthur, he doesn't watch too much telly, he works out, he never cracks hole around me,
He doesn't dance like he is completely white, he's a graduate from university, he made good grades, and he doesn't drink too much, he shys away from drugs,
He has a small bearly unrecognizable limp, then again he has bucket seats...he's a swell chap Mama....

See...but this doesn't even come close as to what really draws you to him....cause what really does draw you to him....has no name.
It's like that with me and BRMC.

I'm not a muso so i can't tell you what chords and pedals that Peter uses.....i can only tell you that the way his mind works side by side with his guitar like two lovers floating...the timing...and the sounds of the ocean....something like that....and Robert with the way he uses the tuning prigs to bring notes down and up.... and Leah with her solid drumming and solid good looks....but that is all trivial.......

It's solid song writing...Lots of pure old American rock and roll and lots of spiritual European rock and roll...
blues, gospel, rock and country and drone....heart, soul, tears, light, sadness, strength....the human condition, the spirit condition....and they stay on course and stand out from the others....but in the shadows and at the same time in the light..

Nick Jago help build this beautiful black machine, but again in my humble opinion...truly Leah was the missing motorcycle part.  Element if you will.

Being a half assed seer of sorts...i don't know what it was when i was out in Venice beach, California and my friend at the time left me in his flat and told me he got some free singles down at the record store for me from a new band he thought i would like..called BRMC.  i grabbed 3 beers as he left and put on white palms...and with the ocean sea salt air coming in...i got the strangest spookiest feeling...and when i saw Robert and Peter on the front cover of the L.P. 
they looked like people i had known for a very long time...and that was all she wrote.

Last but not Papa Bill use to say always be kind because so few are....and Robert, Peter and Leah and Michael and Grant and Ben and Michele and the list goes on....all have this....this's nearly supernatural yet all too human...the underdog, the sweetheart, the been lost before ...or as Billy Nicgorski has with the Out crowd.....

The music has been there for me through the highs and lows and there has been so many it nearly killed me quite a few times....and the music... still there for me....Lifted me up on high and helped me to burn down the road...once again...  I give big chief thanx.

Merci Flo
good love and good health to you and yours


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