Recently there was some Facebook commentary on a Wikipedia article which trotted out the conventional notion that there is a correlation between creativity and mental illness. Here's the article:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Creativity_and_mental_illness
My (unsolicited) contribution to that discussion forms the original basis of this blog post - with a few subsequent additions:
People with mental illness are often drawn to recreational drugs not just for self-medication, but also for a particular social piece. If you have strange associations and behaviours because of your mental illness, you may find it easier to fit in amongst people who are tripping balls. They won't spot your eccentricity as quickly if they, too are seeing dayglo pink gerbils hula-dancing on the bedside dresser.
So I've often wondered if the art scene has a lot of folks with addictive personalities and mental illness in & around it because these people are artistically creative, OR because the art scene has less strict norms of appropriate behaviour, belief, dress, substance use and abuse etc. than 'straight' society. Perhaps each is a factor. Perhaps the factors inform each other.
But I think that genius in various fields (math, too) is associated with mental illness and addictive personality because you have to be a full-blown genius if you're gonna succeed despite your mental illness or your addiction. You can succeed as a sane, pretty-good guitarist but it's unlikely people are gonna put up with unpredictable, unreliable bullshit in any discipline unless there is remarkable talent that goes along with it. That sort of talent is available to only a few.
We all know lots of people who are unremarkable talent-wise. It's less likely that we know lots of people who are seriously mentally ill or in the midst of active, chronic addiction and who are unremarkable talent-wise. As a society we tend to segregate such folks into day centers and care facilities and slums. I've had occasion to work with a lot of these people in my day jobs. They are as varied in their strengths and weaknesses as those who don't suffer from their particular diseases. But as a rule it's harder for them to succeed. So we only see the geniuses from these populations succeeding in their various disciplines. And we draw the false conclusion that the disease is the cause of their genius.
There's also the "Behind the Music" effect. Stories about fucked-up creative people are sexy. Stories about responsible, deadline-meeting, tax-paying creative people are sort of boring. But
creating art requires a whole raft of boring, unsexy talents like promptness, budgeting skills, tact etc. Look at Duke Ellington versus Thelonius Monk. Each one is undoubtedly a creative genius. But Ellington had the opportunity to write and arrange for larger, more varied groups in part because he had the organizational and interpersonal skills to keep a big band together. There were eccentrics and addicts in his band but he wasn't one of them.
Monk, on the other hand, was pretty out there. Many speculate that today he would be diagnosed with an autism spectrum disorder. He was only able to hold small combos together. So he only got to write & arrange for small combos. The parameters of his creativity were limited, rather than enhanced by his eccentricity.
My own experience is like this: I have been both depressed and extremely anxious. This ran the gamut from general sarcastic-dick-to-be-around resentfulness to unable-to-get-out-of-bed-for several-days paralysis. I never sought treatment and never received a clinical diagnosis. In retrospect it looks like for-real mental illness. I have used substances - usually alcohol - addictively. When I stopped using alcohol and drugs, my depression and anxiety eventually abated.
I was working as a creative person throughout that period. I'm OK at being a creative person. I have some skills. I certainly don't have any sort of parameter-shifting, game-changing native ability. And I experienced a bit of success in those days. And I hit a big, scary wall. I had ideas of what I wanted to do but not the motivation, courage, or general shit-togetherness to realize these plans. What I had was an acute and rapidly growing pool of fear and resentment at an unfair world.
I got past that period by committing to abstaining from booze and drugs, and by committing to a personal spiritual practice. It was only when I was stopped suffering from mental illness and addiction that things started to roll for me artistically. I felt better in myself. More willing to try and fail. I managed to pull bigger, more complex projects together because I wasn't sleeping it off until 3pm on Sundays. But a much more profound shift occurred in the work I was doing:
The message I was putting out into the world became less self-referential and more generous. I stopped believing that happy endings were a pandering sop for suckers. I stopped believing that archness, hipness and urbanity were the ultimate aesthetic qualities. I started to want to celebrate things like hope and dreams in an unironic fashion. A new goal became to tell stories that could uplift without sacrificing grit. This was quite different from my previous goal - which was to show you how edgy and clever I was. Not that I have abandoned satire or darker themes. I've just added new ones. My parameters widened when I stopped being mentally unhealthy.
I'm moved to blog about this because when I started out in the music & art scenes I was most attracted to the craziness of bohemian life. The late nights shouting at the bar. The fights. The extreme personalities. The excitement. The sense that we were different and special. I thought all this was feeding my creative output.
The bohemian party lifestyle may well have been my main incentive to start down a difficult, worthwhile path in music and theater. But living this lifestyle was in fact hampering my creativity. And I think I tolerated my less-than-optimal mental condition for much longer than I would have were I living in the 'straight' world. I told myself it was an essential part of my artistic voice - the price of admission. But it wasn't. It was the bar on the door. The artist as crazy, hard-partying, opium-revelator genius is a rare, troubled model. Realizing your skill set, dedicating yourself to expanding it, trying and failing repeatedly with prosaic, valiant attempts until something magic happens... Most successful people in any field are following this model. And you don't have to be an addict or mentally ill to make it work. In fact, being healthy helps.
Showing posts with label wet spots. Show all posts
Showing posts with label wet spots. Show all posts
Sunday, June 20, 2010
Sunday, July 12, 2009
Making a Musical Shine! Part 1
Hey folks,
First off, apologies for the spam blog that went out from this account not long ago. We've taken steps to ensure this does not happen again.
These next several blogs are going to concern the process of creating a new original musical from the point of view of the writer / musical director. Over the past 16 months The Wet Spots have been writing a musical. We are mounting it this August 12-23 at the Waterfront Theater in Vancouver under the name SHINE - A Burlesque Musical.
SHINE is set in a crumbling downtown theater called The Aristocrat. The venue has been a vaudeville hall, a burlesque theater, a drag revue, and a punk rock / performance art space through its long, seedy history. It is currently on its last legs, and being run by Miss Shine Mionne - a hard-drinking diva whose legs are a bit wobbly too. In order to save her theater, Shine accepts help from a slick money man who thinks he can turn the place around... with a few minor adjustments.
We got the idea for this musical from five solid years of touring - playing a good cross-section of the world's variety, burlesque and cabaret stages big and small. Along the way, we seem to have joined an international family of migrant freak performers: BDSM aerialists, roller skating hula hooping Josephine Baker impersonaters, magician strippers, Swedish tennis pro contortionists, and a woman who queefs the Blue Danube Waltz whilst a midget dressed as Strauss conducts her.
We thought it would be a great laugh to set a full-book musical in a freaky cabaret theater, with actors in the lead roles and a rotating guest cast of these amazing, outlandish performers as some of the acts that this cabaret theater books. In 2008, we joined forces with the amazing Screaming Chicken Burlesque - a Vancouver troupe that fully embraces both the comedic and erotic elements of the form. We put an embryonic, semi-improvised version of the show up for Vancouver International Burlesque Fest. By the 2009 Fest in May, we had a fully scripted show with 10 original songs.
In June of this year, we made the decision to give the show a full run in a professional theater. The Screaming Chicken gang will be taking care of the choreography and providing most of the chorus dancers. Many of the lead roles are also being filled by performers from this troupe. These next few blogs will be updates on the journey we're all taking together - creating some semblance of an entertaining order from the chaos of fourteen performers and their busy lives.
Make no mistake - The Wet Spots are in this for the long haul. We're looking at mounting this at New York Musical Festival and New York Fringe and New York Burlesque Fest 2010. And there are already film adaptation and overseas stage production possibilities in the works. But for now, our sights are firmly set on that magic opening night of August 12, 2009. And seeing just what we can pull off in this tiny sliver of time we have...
First off, apologies for the spam blog that went out from this account not long ago. We've taken steps to ensure this does not happen again.
These next several blogs are going to concern the process of creating a new original musical from the point of view of the writer / musical director. Over the past 16 months The Wet Spots have been writing a musical. We are mounting it this August 12-23 at the Waterfront Theater in Vancouver under the name SHINE - A Burlesque Musical.
SHINE is set in a crumbling downtown theater called The Aristocrat. The venue has been a vaudeville hall, a burlesque theater, a drag revue, and a punk rock / performance art space through its long, seedy history. It is currently on its last legs, and being run by Miss Shine Mionne - a hard-drinking diva whose legs are a bit wobbly too. In order to save her theater, Shine accepts help from a slick money man who thinks he can turn the place around... with a few minor adjustments.
We got the idea for this musical from five solid years of touring - playing a good cross-section of the world's variety, burlesque and cabaret stages big and small. Along the way, we seem to have joined an international family of migrant freak performers: BDSM aerialists, roller skating hula hooping Josephine Baker impersonaters, magician strippers, Swedish tennis pro contortionists, and a woman who queefs the Blue Danube Waltz whilst a midget dressed as Strauss conducts her.
We thought it would be a great laugh to set a full-book musical in a freaky cabaret theater, with actors in the lead roles and a rotating guest cast of these amazing, outlandish performers as some of the acts that this cabaret theater books. In 2008, we joined forces with the amazing Screaming Chicken Burlesque - a Vancouver troupe that fully embraces both the comedic and erotic elements of the form. We put an embryonic, semi-improvised version of the show up for Vancouver International Burlesque Fest. By the 2009 Fest in May, we had a fully scripted show with 10 original songs.
In June of this year, we made the decision to give the show a full run in a professional theater. The Screaming Chicken gang will be taking care of the choreography and providing most of the chorus dancers. Many of the lead roles are also being filled by performers from this troupe. These next few blogs will be updates on the journey we're all taking together - creating some semblance of an entertaining order from the chaos of fourteen performers and their busy lives.
Make no mistake - The Wet Spots are in this for the long haul. We're looking at mounting this at New York Musical Festival and New York Fringe and New York Burlesque Fest 2010. And there are already film adaptation and overseas stage production possibilities in the works. But for now, our sights are firmly set on that magic opening night of August 12, 2009. And seeing just what we can pull off in this tiny sliver of time we have...
Tuesday, December 02, 2008
Integrity
John here:
Yesterday a friend of mine asked me why it was that people who are otherwise honest and open have so much trouble around integrity in romantic relationships. Why do good people cheat?
The word "integrity" means "the state of being integrated". And "integrated" means that all the parts sit comfortably together. So integrity means being and behaving in a such a way that all parts hang together. A man who despises the conditions of the factory farm yet eats beef daily has parts within him that do not fit together. In this area of his life he does not have integrity. A man who believes that factory farms are just fine for cows and eats a lot of beef DOES have integrity in this area of his life. (Though he may need to educate himself.)
Now we all have contradictions like this where we behave in ways that contradict our values or what we know is best for us. But it is hard to accept. So we have to rationalize, deny or outright lie to ourselves to keep from seeing the contradiction. Psychologists call it "cognitive dissonance". And we all do it to some degree. But when the issue is serious, then cognitive dissonance is very painful. The man who drinks and does coke a lot knows in one part of his mind that it is unhealthy and dangerous and that it could kill him. And he sort of knows that he is hooked. And he doesn't want to die. But another part of him knows that the only solution is to give up the booze and coke completely. Forever. And there's no way he wants to do that. Because he needs the stuff to feel okay and the thought of life without it is too scary.
So he swears off in the morning during the hangover. And then - in the afternoon when he's jonesing, and a glass of wine would feel just right - he makes the decision to have that glass. But he has to come up with some reason why it's ok to do it and why he isn't really hooked and why it's not really that bad. Sure, a part of him knows he's bullshitting himself. But another part is saying just as loud "No, no. It's fine. Go ahead. What the hell?" That's some serious cognitive dissonance. That's a lack of integrity. And it's painful.
As far as sexual relations go, I think that people have a big problem with integrity because they are not honest with themselves or with others about what they want. The sexual urge can be just as strong as the urge for that bump of coke. Especially if it seems like that urge will not be satisfied.
Let's say you really like being slapped with a codfish at the moment of climax. Or at least you think you probably would. You've never tried it but you fantasize about it all the time. Chances are, you'll probably think to yourself "Wow, that really gets me off but I probably shouldn't mention it to the person I'm dating. Because they'll think its weird and maybe leave."
You've made a few assumptions. The first is that your desire to be fish-slapped is weird and not valid and does not deserve to be satisfied. The second is that your lover will not stick around if they know about the fish thing. The third is that you should try to continue a relationship with a person who would leave if they knew about your hidden desires.
So you keep quiet and marry your lover. You love them. You want to be faithful. But this unrequited fish-slap thing is nagging at you like a bad coke habit. You start surfing the fish-slap sites. Eventually you hire some strapping young fellow down at the docks to work you over with a salmon every second Friday. You tell your spouse that you're working late.
The parts are not integrated. You love your spouse. You value them. You want to be faithful. And yet here you are sneaking around. When you get caught you are truly sorry. You hurt. And you can't really explain why it happened.
It happened because you were not honest about your desires. Not honest with yourself or with your partner. What's more, you didn't honour the fish-slap side of yourself. You didn't listen to it and celebrate it, saying: "Ok, this is beautiful. Let's explore it." You said "Um, this is weird and I don't deserve to have this sort of pleasure." And then later, when the fish-slap side of yourself demanded to be heard, you didn't have the courage to negotiate with your partner - to say "Could you maybe fish-slap me once in a while? Say - once a month? No? OK. What if the guy at the docks does it? I still love you but I need this."
These are tough talks to have. I make my living thinking about this stuff, and I still have trouble with some of these talks. So I have compassion for the cheaters. And for the cuckolds. Because there is still so much shame out there. We are told in a million different ways that if our desires do not conform then we have to keep them very quiet. This is a recipe for dishonesty, cheating and behaving without integrity.
(And then there are folks like Dan Savage who are working tirelessly to make unusual desires seem less unusual, and advocating that we explore them, not hide them. Thanks Dan, and great job on Colbert, by the way.)
I know that I am attracted to many people, and that I would not be happy in a monogamous relationship. The hard part was owning it and celebrating it instead of being ashamed of it. And holding out for a partner who could roll with it and wanted to live in the same way. I believe that we are faithful to each other. Faithful in that we are very honest about what we want and where we're at - even if it's hard to say and hard to hear. Even if it turns out to be a deal-breaker. It's scary, but not as scary as hurting people by sneaking around.
Yesterday a friend of mine asked me why it was that people who are otherwise honest and open have so much trouble around integrity in romantic relationships. Why do good people cheat?
The word "integrity" means "the state of being integrated". And "integrated" means that all the parts sit comfortably together. So integrity means being and behaving in a such a way that all parts hang together. A man who despises the conditions of the factory farm yet eats beef daily has parts within him that do not fit together. In this area of his life he does not have integrity. A man who believes that factory farms are just fine for cows and eats a lot of beef DOES have integrity in this area of his life. (Though he may need to educate himself.)
Now we all have contradictions like this where we behave in ways that contradict our values or what we know is best for us. But it is hard to accept. So we have to rationalize, deny or outright lie to ourselves to keep from seeing the contradiction. Psychologists call it "cognitive dissonance". And we all do it to some degree. But when the issue is serious, then cognitive dissonance is very painful. The man who drinks and does coke a lot knows in one part of his mind that it is unhealthy and dangerous and that it could kill him. And he sort of knows that he is hooked. And he doesn't want to die. But another part of him knows that the only solution is to give up the booze and coke completely. Forever. And there's no way he wants to do that. Because he needs the stuff to feel okay and the thought of life without it is too scary.
So he swears off in the morning during the hangover. And then - in the afternoon when he's jonesing, and a glass of wine would feel just right - he makes the decision to have that glass. But he has to come up with some reason why it's ok to do it and why he isn't really hooked and why it's not really that bad. Sure, a part of him knows he's bullshitting himself. But another part is saying just as loud "No, no. It's fine. Go ahead. What the hell?" That's some serious cognitive dissonance. That's a lack of integrity. And it's painful.
As far as sexual relations go, I think that people have a big problem with integrity because they are not honest with themselves or with others about what they want. The sexual urge can be just as strong as the urge for that bump of coke. Especially if it seems like that urge will not be satisfied.
Let's say you really like being slapped with a codfish at the moment of climax. Or at least you think you probably would. You've never tried it but you fantasize about it all the time. Chances are, you'll probably think to yourself "Wow, that really gets me off but I probably shouldn't mention it to the person I'm dating. Because they'll think its weird and maybe leave."
You've made a few assumptions. The first is that your desire to be fish-slapped is weird and not valid and does not deserve to be satisfied. The second is that your lover will not stick around if they know about the fish thing. The third is that you should try to continue a relationship with a person who would leave if they knew about your hidden desires.
So you keep quiet and marry your lover. You love them. You want to be faithful. But this unrequited fish-slap thing is nagging at you like a bad coke habit. You start surfing the fish-slap sites. Eventually you hire some strapping young fellow down at the docks to work you over with a salmon every second Friday. You tell your spouse that you're working late.
The parts are not integrated. You love your spouse. You value them. You want to be faithful. And yet here you are sneaking around. When you get caught you are truly sorry. You hurt. And you can't really explain why it happened.
It happened because you were not honest about your desires. Not honest with yourself or with your partner. What's more, you didn't honour the fish-slap side of yourself. You didn't listen to it and celebrate it, saying: "Ok, this is beautiful. Let's explore it." You said "Um, this is weird and I don't deserve to have this sort of pleasure." And then later, when the fish-slap side of yourself demanded to be heard, you didn't have the courage to negotiate with your partner - to say "Could you maybe fish-slap me once in a while? Say - once a month? No? OK. What if the guy at the docks does it? I still love you but I need this."
These are tough talks to have. I make my living thinking about this stuff, and I still have trouble with some of these talks. So I have compassion for the cheaters. And for the cuckolds. Because there is still so much shame out there. We are told in a million different ways that if our desires do not conform then we have to keep them very quiet. This is a recipe for dishonesty, cheating and behaving without integrity.
(And then there are folks like Dan Savage who are working tirelessly to make unusual desires seem less unusual, and advocating that we explore them, not hide them. Thanks Dan, and great job on Colbert, by the way.)
I know that I am attracted to many people, and that I would not be happy in a monogamous relationship. The hard part was owning it and celebrating it instead of being ashamed of it. And holding out for a partner who could roll with it and wanted to live in the same way. I believe that we are faithful to each other. Faithful in that we are very honest about what we want and where we're at - even if it's hard to say and hard to hear. Even if it turns out to be a deal-breaker. It's scary, but not as scary as hurting people by sneaking around.
Monday, June 09, 2008
YouTube - womb13's Channel
John Here:
'80s Canadian Punk Rock Documentary
This documentary was originally broadcast on Much Music around 1990. (If you click on the text link it will take you to a page with all the chapters of the episode.) It features a lot of Canadian Punk bands like the Diodes, I Braineater, DOA, Viletones etc. and focuses on the years 1976 through the mid 1980s. I remember seeing it back when I was in my first year of university and putting some of my first bands together. I wasn't even in kindergarten yet in 1976, so these pioneers had a real mystique about them, and it was good to see the music finally getting the retrospective it deserved.
But I was already pretty damn disillusioned about punk rock at that point. I had watched one of my smartest friends turn into a bum on the street from doing too much glue and acid. The more politically minded punk rockers I knew were busy spray painting "Tories are Pig-Fuckers" on the walls of local community centers or pulling ill-fated bank heists for which they did hard time. The more aesthetically minded punks I knew had morphed into these miserable proto-hipsters, clutching their obscure '78s tightly to their chests and talking (only half-jokingly) about who had more 'punk points' for having gone to the right gig or hosted the right band when they came through on tour.
But it's just as easy for me to remember why I loved the scene. Like many kids, I had grown up finding my pop idols on television and on mainstream radio. And like many kids, I wanted to be up there on stage one day doing it myself. I bought an electric guitar, but the gulf still seemed unbridgeable. I'd go to see Tears for Fears or Platinum Blond or (later when I was angrier) Motley Crue or Iron Maiden at the Winnipeg Arena. They had multimillion dollar setups and were playing songs that were well beyond my level of technical skill. My guitar teacher told me that if I practiced my scales every day for many years I might be able to do the solo from Stairway to Heaven. It just seemed like more school.
Then I heard The Ramones and everything changed. Their albums were full of these great songs, and I could play along to them all. RIGHT NOW! If these guys had records out, then maybe it was possible for me too. Then I went to my first underground local show. The stage was only two feet high! The guitarist from the band walked RIGHT PAST ME when he was done his set. And he was selling his album at the back of the hall. Suddenly all of the carefully-cultivated untouchability that surrounded those airbrushed pop stars on TV seemed lame instead of cool. These guys down at the local club were the real deal. Within three months I had joined a band. Within a year I had formed my own band. And I was having all those teenage adventures that I wanted so badly - playing in bars under age, smoking dope, having sex.
But my affair with the punk rock scene was short-lived. One of the things that you hear several times from Henry Rollins, Jell-o Biafra & others in this doc is that while a lot of punk rock musicians were real innovators, a lot of the punk rock fans were conservative sheep who demanded rigid conformity to certain tempos, clothing styles and attitudes. I remember back in the day punk rock was sort of like Christianity in that it demanded you renounce all other forms of music as "sold out" or "commercial". You weren't supposed to like Death Sentence AND Prince. Thing is, Jell-o was listening to surf rock, Stompin' Tom Conners, Heino, trucker country, lounge music, bossa nova, and novelty comedy albums while he was writing punk rock. But a lot of his fans only wanted to listen to punk rock.
As I started to become able to play more diverse styles of music, I wanted to add them to the stuff I was writing. And I did. But then it wasn't punk rock any more, and my bands couldn't play the punk rock shows any more. And it was OK. But the truth of the matter is I probably never would have wound up playing music AT ALL - let alone for a living - if it hadn't been for those early Ramones albums and those early shows at the Chameleon Club and my old bandmates like Shaun Roemich and Cal Hamilton and Jeff Burrows. Or my old friend Chris Olson who introduced me to the albums and the clubs and to my first band. None of us had a clue back then, but we were all clueless together and somehow we bullshitted our way into the music scene.
And I think my early love for punk rock affected me in other ways as well. That confrontational attitude, that delight in offending the puritans, that insistence on living your life on your own terms and not in some way that was prescribed for you by your school or your church or your family? That has never left me. Even though the Wet Spots are in many ways easy listening, the lyrics owe as much to Jell-o as they do to Cole Porter. And that DIY approach where you just make your own career happen and don't wait for some suit to decide if you're marketable? The Wet Spots would have folded years ago without that. And (most important) that sense that there's a place for all us freaks to go when the straight world gets us down? That is something that The Wet Spots try to put out there into the world at every single show we do. In many ways I think it's what our fans respond to the most. But the Ramones said it first and said it best:
Gabba gabba,
We accept you, we accept you,
One of us!
John Here:
'80s Canadian Punk Rock Documentary
This documentary was originally broadcast on Much Music around 1990. (If you click on the text link it will take you to a page with all the chapters of the episode.) It features a lot of Canadian Punk bands like the Diodes, I Braineater, DOA, Viletones etc. and focuses on the years 1976 through the mid 1980s. I remember seeing it back when I was in my first year of university and putting some of my first bands together. I wasn't even in kindergarten yet in 1976, so these pioneers had a real mystique about them, and it was good to see the music finally getting the retrospective it deserved.
But I was already pretty damn disillusioned about punk rock at that point. I had watched one of my smartest friends turn into a bum on the street from doing too much glue and acid. The more politically minded punk rockers I knew were busy spray painting "Tories are Pig-Fuckers" on the walls of local community centers or pulling ill-fated bank heists for which they did hard time. The more aesthetically minded punks I knew had morphed into these miserable proto-hipsters, clutching their obscure '78s tightly to their chests and talking (only half-jokingly) about who had more 'punk points' for having gone to the right gig or hosted the right band when they came through on tour.
But it's just as easy for me to remember why I loved the scene. Like many kids, I had grown up finding my pop idols on television and on mainstream radio. And like many kids, I wanted to be up there on stage one day doing it myself. I bought an electric guitar, but the gulf still seemed unbridgeable. I'd go to see Tears for Fears or Platinum Blond or (later when I was angrier) Motley Crue or Iron Maiden at the Winnipeg Arena. They had multimillion dollar setups and were playing songs that were well beyond my level of technical skill. My guitar teacher told me that if I practiced my scales every day for many years I might be able to do the solo from Stairway to Heaven. It just seemed like more school.
Then I heard The Ramones and everything changed. Their albums were full of these great songs, and I could play along to them all. RIGHT NOW! If these guys had records out, then maybe it was possible for me too. Then I went to my first underground local show. The stage was only two feet high! The guitarist from the band walked RIGHT PAST ME when he was done his set. And he was selling his album at the back of the hall. Suddenly all of the carefully-cultivated untouchability that surrounded those airbrushed pop stars on TV seemed lame instead of cool. These guys down at the local club were the real deal. Within three months I had joined a band. Within a year I had formed my own band. And I was having all those teenage adventures that I wanted so badly - playing in bars under age, smoking dope, having sex.
But my affair with the punk rock scene was short-lived. One of the things that you hear several times from Henry Rollins, Jell-o Biafra & others in this doc is that while a lot of punk rock musicians were real innovators, a lot of the punk rock fans were conservative sheep who demanded rigid conformity to certain tempos, clothing styles and attitudes. I remember back in the day punk rock was sort of like Christianity in that it demanded you renounce all other forms of music as "sold out" or "commercial". You weren't supposed to like Death Sentence AND Prince. Thing is, Jell-o was listening to surf rock, Stompin' Tom Conners, Heino, trucker country, lounge music, bossa nova, and novelty comedy albums while he was writing punk rock. But a lot of his fans only wanted to listen to punk rock.
As I started to become able to play more diverse styles of music, I wanted to add them to the stuff I was writing. And I did. But then it wasn't punk rock any more, and my bands couldn't play the punk rock shows any more. And it was OK. But the truth of the matter is I probably never would have wound up playing music AT ALL - let alone for a living - if it hadn't been for those early Ramones albums and those early shows at the Chameleon Club and my old bandmates like Shaun Roemich and Cal Hamilton and Jeff Burrows. Or my old friend Chris Olson who introduced me to the albums and the clubs and to my first band. None of us had a clue back then, but we were all clueless together and somehow we bullshitted our way into the music scene.
And I think my early love for punk rock affected me in other ways as well. That confrontational attitude, that delight in offending the puritans, that insistence on living your life on your own terms and not in some way that was prescribed for you by your school or your church or your family? That has never left me. Even though the Wet Spots are in many ways easy listening, the lyrics owe as much to Jell-o as they do to Cole Porter. And that DIY approach where you just make your own career happen and don't wait for some suit to decide if you're marketable? The Wet Spots would have folded years ago without that. And (most important) that sense that there's a place for all us freaks to go when the straight world gets us down? That is something that The Wet Spots try to put out there into the world at every single show we do. In many ways I think it's what our fans respond to the most. But the Ramones said it first and said it best:
Gabba gabba,
We accept you, we accept you,
One of us!
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