"see, heres my problem," I began, knowing what I was about to spit would be nonsense to M. Ness. "I dont want to play the guitar anymore, I dont want to play with a toy. I want to kill something. I want to make my guitar bleed to proove its alive!" Ness tagged me with blank eyes and recovered with a knowing glance as genuine as vacu-form plastic.
"yea exactly" He shot back, knowing nothing.
"no no you dont get it" I stumbled, arguing a point we both understood but would never resolve. "its-" I tried. "I-" I spat hoping for a wave. I finally settled on a brown paper statement: " I want the sound to be raw, real loud, and almost without reason."
Ness nodded in fervent agreement to something he didnt quite understand. It was his nature to appease the senses of his peers because it worked. He was liked, honored, respected ( to some degree measured in language, expression, and sexual favors ) and in essence - succeeded in the social game were all expected to play.
" So like Motorhead?" He uttered with calm confidence.
"y-..yeah dude" I was stunned. An obvious reply but correct. Simple in the way I was striving to portray. And coming from a less than intelligent source - I was taken aback. Not by his "genius" but by all the stumbling I had done dancing around the point I was trying to make. It wasn't the whole picture but it was a clear enough comparison to show he know what I was getting at.
Marveling at the simplicity achieved by a close friend I considered a dullard I sat back. ( A note on the asshole writing this song- I believe simplicity to be the pinnacle of understanding and unfairly attribute it to the "intelligent" when really the moron displays [ in most cases ] a more clear understanding of the basic meanings).
I was on the verge of apologizing when Ness began explaining how good the local "new country" station was. He was and is probably right.
"Duuuuuuude" he interrupted himself.
"sup?" i shot back. Reflex.
"I think I found a brothel in NoHo." He looked at me half smiling half shocked.
"whaaaaat, noo," I started, playfully dismissing the notion. " Wait like, old west shit or what?"
"No dude, fully legit." He held the same stare, unshaken.
"How the fuck did you-" I started, surprise in my voice but no trace in my knowing.
"Some internet shit." He shot back. " Dude I havent been but I swear its legit!" Ness continued, setting his les Paul face first on the couch. This guitar was art, engineering, science, sound, and negligence wrapped up into an expensive package no one could believe hadn't been broken yet. It was the third singer in our highschool punk band, the envy of kids wealthier than us, and a mystery to everyone. How was this hunk of wood and metal still in one piece? My guess is that it was born into a cradle of chaos and fed off the stupidity of those who enjoyed it.
"Great sales pitch dick." I replied. Typical Ness bullshit. " So anyway I want to start with something like this- " I offered , dismissing Ness's more than typical brag-rant. I began wrecking the strings with half learned chords.
" NO DUDE" Ness spat, slapping his hand onto my fretboard. " THIS SHIT IS FOR FUCKING REAL."
" How could you possibly know that you fuck, you've never been, you heard about it on the internet, and it wasn't important enough to tell me the SECOND you found out. So tell me - how the fuck do you know this shit is real? I dont doubt there are brothels in the valley but I sincerely doubt whatever you heard on the interweb is of any consequence. Prove it dick." Your turn Ness.
"Go, I have the adress." Ness said with confidence.
"Ok so im the test monkey now? I guess whore monkey isn't so bad. Give me cash then, if you want me to prove it." I became interested, more so at the prospect of a free adventure.
"Dawg, im broke as shit," He began, dismissing it all and grabbing his guitar again.
"Fuck man." I said looking past six strings, knowing i couldnt turn down the chance to prove him wrong- or right- or both of us wrong and end up in jail. At this point I had accepted experience is more valuable than the possible positive or negative outcome that could be waiting for me.
"Godamnit." I shat.
" you know your gonna do it ." Amil said from the bathroom. He had be listening for some time as he worked on a beer shit that could rival - honestly there was no competition. It had been hours.
"Fuck you both." I said defeated and ready. "Adress?"
"yea exactly" He shot back, knowing nothing.
"no no you dont get it" I stumbled, arguing a point we both understood but would never resolve. "its-" I tried. "I-" I spat hoping for a wave. I finally settled on a brown paper statement: " I want the sound to be raw, real loud, and almost without reason."
Ness nodded in fervent agreement to something he didnt quite understand. It was his nature to appease the senses of his peers because it worked. He was liked, honored, respected ( to some degree measured in language, expression, and sexual favors ) and in essence - succeeded in the social game were all expected to play.
" So like Motorhead?" He uttered with calm confidence.
"y-..yeah dude" I was stunned. An obvious reply but correct. Simple in the way I was striving to portray. And coming from a less than intelligent source - I was taken aback. Not by his "genius" but by all the stumbling I had done dancing around the point I was trying to make. It wasn't the whole picture but it was a clear enough comparison to show he know what I was getting at.
Marveling at the simplicity achieved by a close friend I considered a dullard I sat back. ( A note on the asshole writing this song- I believe simplicity to be the pinnacle of understanding and unfairly attribute it to the "intelligent" when really the moron displays [ in most cases ] a more clear understanding of the basic meanings).
I was on the verge of apologizing when Ness began explaining how good the local "new country" station was. He was and is probably right.
"Duuuuuuude" he interrupted himself.
"sup?" i shot back. Reflex.
"I think I found a brothel in NoHo." He looked at me half smiling half shocked.
"whaaaaat, noo," I started, playfully dismissing the notion. " Wait like, old west shit or what?"
"No dude, fully legit." He held the same stare, unshaken.
"How the fuck did you-" I started, surprise in my voice but no trace in my knowing.
"Some internet shit." He shot back. " Dude I havent been but I swear its legit!" Ness continued, setting his les Paul face first on the couch. This guitar was art, engineering, science, sound, and negligence wrapped up into an expensive package no one could believe hadn't been broken yet. It was the third singer in our highschool punk band, the envy of kids wealthier than us, and a mystery to everyone. How was this hunk of wood and metal still in one piece? My guess is that it was born into a cradle of chaos and fed off the stupidity of those who enjoyed it.
"Great sales pitch dick." I replied. Typical Ness bullshit. " So anyway I want to start with something like this- " I offered , dismissing Ness's more than typical brag-rant. I began wrecking the strings with half learned chords.
" NO DUDE" Ness spat, slapping his hand onto my fretboard. " THIS SHIT IS FOR FUCKING REAL."
" How could you possibly know that you fuck, you've never been, you heard about it on the internet, and it wasn't important enough to tell me the SECOND you found out. So tell me - how the fuck do you know this shit is real? I dont doubt there are brothels in the valley but I sincerely doubt whatever you heard on the interweb is of any consequence. Prove it dick." Your turn Ness.
"Go, I have the adress." Ness said with confidence.
"Ok so im the test monkey now? I guess whore monkey isn't so bad. Give me cash then, if you want me to prove it." I became interested, more so at the prospect of a free adventure.
"Dawg, im broke as shit," He began, dismissing it all and grabbing his guitar again.
"Fuck man." I said looking past six strings, knowing i couldnt turn down the chance to prove him wrong- or right- or both of us wrong and end up in jail. At this point I had accepted experience is more valuable than the possible positive or negative outcome that could be waiting for me.
"Godamnit." I shat.
" you know your gonna do it ." Amil said from the bathroom. He had be listening for some time as he worked on a beer shit that could rival - honestly there was no competition. It had been hours.
"Fuck you both." I said defeated and ready. "Adress?"
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