Say what you will, but the best music can not be made without suffering, drug use, or a mix of both. Great music can be made by what people consider shit humans. Luckily there was only one musician I knew that was one, that story is for another time. I am to happy to make myself that fucking mad right now, plus I am a little stoned so I forget if I wrote it already. You want honesty in writing you are getting it motherfuckers.
It was creation through self destruction. Pills, booze, cocaine, mushrooms, poppy tea, every form of weed that was out at the time made my a person someone they knew could trust. I stuck with drinking and cigarettes as I mentioned before. If you want to think I am lying that is fine I am not expecting people to believe everything that I write in this anyway.
Killing time, killing ourselves, trying to laugh away the bullshit while we could and how we could. Music was an outlet and a reason. It got us together, as we listened to bastard hymns of worse times and possibly better people. You were not getting christian contemporary that is for fucking sure.
Some people would go in the back and do coke before or after their sets, it would not effect their playing since it was nothing new or exciting. Mad men making madder music for heathens, working class, drunks, druggies, degenerates, and other hell bound souls. The craziness kept us sane. The booze kept us war. The bonds kept us sane.
unpaid professional boozehound 