Coming off a successful show in Berlin, the Warlocks had the following day off which turned out to be just enough time for the ghost of Hitler to hide in their van. Berlin can be a funny place at times and traveling on the road as one big family has been known to test the limits of even the highest order of gurus. If my memory serves me well, i recollect one war torn road story of when a very fragile Kurdt Kobain found himself on a euro’trash rock’n’rolling barnyard roadshow with the likes of a 500 pound lumberjack yodeler named TAD. It was Kurt’s drummer, 6 foot 7 bass-player and TAD and his 2 minions all stuffed into one barnyard on wheels. There was a high-powered swerve over some uneven speed-bumps better known as slow-moving people on foot, and the beer flew into the air along with the stale crisp, the dirty tube-socks, hammerlock cockpump Bong and by the time the whole goddamn mess skidded to a bell-ringing halt, Kobain had a godawful mouthful of TAD’s hair’bucket Kitchen Ass while holding on to dear life by the grip of a sweaty size 17 Converse All Star trainer. Kurt walked away from it with a severe bout of Rock’n’Roll PTSD and a major fear of Lumberjack Kitchen Ass.
Rock and Roll touring is very often a Luciferian tour of duty.
Unbeknownst to the Warlocks, the ghost of Adolf Hitler had hitched a ride. It tucked itself away inside the clutter of ancient and perfumed tarot cards, crystal balls and Ernie Ball bass strings.
Loads of people don’t believe in such rubbish, but those who understand an inkling of old History sure do. America is a country barely old enough to buy alcohol and get its dick wet. Germany’s History spans way back and is full of Sea-dogs, Saxons, Storm-Troopers and the likes and what do Sea-dogs, Saxons and Storm-troopers all have in common? They make for very powerful Ghost…
I felt it quite early that morning as i headed out to Hamburg. It was thick on the air. You hear it in songs sometimes… Love is in the air… Spring is in the hair… but this tune went a little something like, An Entity is On the Air… or.. The Prince of the Power of the Air!
Either way it was all feelin’ a bit High’jackish. Somewhere out there The Warlocks were making a pit-stop for fizzy drinks and bubblegum flavored bubblegum when the Ghost of the Young and fever-Cuntish
John Lennon waved off a ticket to ride and just hid himself away, along with the Ghost of Adolph and the Stardust powders, glittering lyrical notepads, broken bubblegum violet smartphones and tear stained guitar picks…
I swung by Young John’s joint to pick him up about fuck’o’clock but he wasn’t home, so i spun a few hard lefts, a few fistfuls of rights, swung a roustabout by the wharves and presto, i was at The Warlocks Hamburg gig. It was just my kinda place. A clean yet bombed out shit’hole with phans (fans) already there. I ordered a surprisingly fresh Gin n’ Tonic and before i knew it, there was Bobby, DiPino, Plucky and Earl V. All looking real fuckun’ cool and ready to rock and roll and that is when i saw them sneakin’ in… Ol’ Adolph and Rascal John… the War gash loving spirits themselves and they were ready to stir the shit cauldron… they began to mix in and disappear with the waiting audience… i lost sight of them thanks to some Kraut rock veteran from the church of Hawkwind and CAN. Ol’ buzzard. Drooling on, yarn after yarn about the olden days when you could get a facefull of asshole for half a fiver and how one time he made tea from the sweat of Lemmy’s headband. I bought him a drink to shut him off, but the alcohol only opened the floodgates of his memory and i had to hear about the time him and the singer of Saxon, Biff Byford blew each other at Donnington or was it the Hammersmith Odeon? I couldn’t recall and i had lost sight of the band, Adolf and Young John. I flicked the old geezers upper lip off my earlobe and swatted him away and that is when The Warlocks hit the stage.
Bobby said a few kind words about me being there out of the blue, a few people clapped, somebody razzled off a wet one, i blushed and the band began to play the sweet Warlocks beauty… I don’t know who was running the sound but it seemed like maybe a person who for some reason was allergic to Reverb and Delay knobs… which i bloody well Hate. Bobby asked if the sound people could maybe snap out of their hunt for pokemon and give that Reverb knob a twist… they finally located it and we were back on the sweet road of Oblivion rock and roll…
The front rows were getting locked into the trance and a few were even beginning to show signs of werewolf foam reverberation and i prayed nobody would go full cream and jizz me and that is about the time that the arcane spirits struck. Nobody in rock and roll can really put their finger onto which or where or how a Radge gets born, it just does… thanx mostly to spirit shenanigans and the shenanigans of the spirit twins unleashed!
Earl V. was the 1st to catch the dark wave hysterico and his guitar flew into the air like a sword dance gone wrong.
Those too high on the music didn’t miss a beat.
Some ducked so as not to be decapitated.
I caught a glimpse of Young John’s ghost grab a ghostly fist of denim bulge plankton towards the audience while wearing a shit-eating grin. The ghost of Ol’ Adolf was doing a merry German jig and at the same time whiplashing, very proud of the chaos that he and Lennon had unleashed… Earl V. stormed out towards the dressing room and i followed asking him what was the matter? He said I QUIT MAN!
I went back out front, the heat in the room was rising, cigarette smoke, smoke machine smoke, confused faces, zonked out faces, the music kept on going…
DiPino digging in and Plucky reaching down into a shot-up High-School evil eye vibe… then Bobby left the stage… and somewhere through the haze he said
I QUIT! Then Earl V. returned to the stage and the temperature of the room it just kept rising… the stage lights were burning cinnamon red and glowing and the people kept dancing… 3 people began to wig-out as if under a spell… lost in the socket of the mad maker molecule…
then Plucky said I QUIT!
Next thing i knew i shouted out I QUIT!
Somebody said, Yer not even in the band, man!
It was turning into The Lord of the Flies… it was turning into The Olsen Twins at Altamont!
The crazy thing i remember is that somehow, everybody had quit, but the music still lingered in the air… it somehow was so nektar that it just hung like a colorful cloud… I saw Adolph and Young John sneak out the door and into the night but by that time, people were already on their cell phones calling up people they knew and Quitting! One guy called his boss and quit, some wench called her old man and Quit on him, another guy who was a hard-core nerd, dialed his voicemail and left a message that come morning, he was quitting his own self and then before you could snap your fingers the spell was brken Bobby was wearing his sweetheart THRASHER sweater and all The Warlocks were still the brothers of love and people began to go back to normal and call the people they had quit on and patch it up. I did my best not to break anything and we all got the van loaded up, the band got paid and headed out into the night towards their next beautiful show. I was still singing Shake the Dope out which actually means don’t get mired down in tedious things… shake off All petulant bullshit… and just about then the ghost of Young John Lennon sucker punched me in the belly and ran off into the crazy arms of Hamburg Late Night as i smiled while blowing chunks. Oh the pretty and ravishing dangers of Rock’n’Roll…
Long Live The Warlocks!