Lunatic ~ Naked Space Heroes

Space Ship One

La Vie Boheme

BALLOT OR THE BULLET

Written by:
Edward Van Halen, Gary Cherone,
Michael Anthony, Alex Van Halen.
� 1998 Van Halen Publishing, LLC ASCAP
All Rights Reserved
---

give me liberty or give me death
no truer words, have ever been said
are you prepared
for your very last breath
don't you dare start
what you cannot finish

so when we face, face the adversary
no longer are we the minority...

and when history repeats her hour
the pendulum will swing
swing into power
though not in vain like our forefathers
freedom, never had no room for cowards

for in the end, there will be equality
be any means necessary

the ballot or the bullet
the choice is up to you
the ballot or the bullet
tell me what you gonna do
the sword and the pen
can be held, by the same hand

what's it gonna take to liberate
an emancipation, a false proclamation
all these token words that you legislate
sound a little bit absurd, and a little too late

when a house is divided
it just will not stand
once it's decided
a line drawn in the sand

anatomy of a singer: in relation to a band:

Part two: My Band: Progressive Soul


(please read part one here)



This is currently the only story of

GROOVE DAMAGE...
(EST. 2000)

' the best band you never heard'...








Preface:

This article is dedicated to the players in Groove Damage. For all the hard work and dedication. For swallowing pride, and agreeing to wait, even though it didn't seem to make sense at the time... Jah, may the world soon see, how you bless those who put you first. May i be able to make all who read this see, that Love was and is my motivation Through the Looking Glass...



















Long Cold Winter



Early Winter 1995. I had answered an ad placed in the local Weekly, by a band looking for a singer to front their brand of Progressive rock.


Listing influences like Rush, Kansas, Genesis... I knew I had found the band I was looking for. I was studying voice, and wasn't quite ready to be the greatest singer of all time ( struggling with Kansas' range). However, I knew what I wanted, I knew this was MY band, don't ask me how... I dialed.

After calling the number, I spoke... "...How do you pronounce your name?"

"PRAA-shaNT" the voice replied.

"Is that Indian?" I asked with a breath of excitement... (Exotic, progressive, rockers... 'vewy intewesting"...)

The conversation was long and warm. We connected on many areas of life, especially music, and shortly after, I got a call from the Bass player, Eric, (He could feel Prashant's excitement, and wanted to talk to me immediately... ) the two of us spent what seemed a lifetime connecting, and inquiring... dreaming out loud... I had passed the phone interview...












SCHOONER TIME!
--------------






Schooner Time was a basic sports bar, in a store front shopping mall... small.
Big FUCKin' schooners of draft beer. Goblets.

Eric booked the gig as an instrumental trio... 'Equinox'. They invited me down to check out the band, and if I thought I had chops enough, we would go from there...















Schooner Time had a small stage, a pool table, dart board... Not to mention a group of regulars that literally reminded me in a faint way of the NBC "Cheers" Gang. As the band played the very Rush/Halen influenced, insanely progressive set, one of the more inebriated patrons, in a funny voice, shouted, "One MOre Time !!"... (This continued... for every single song...)

So.......

- whoa.... HOLD ON THERE Skippy Lou!!

- What happened?

- How do you share the macabre mind control of your evil wife... where do you start?

-GOoOod question... but one I must answer, as, I will be sharing a few of the observations, made by myself, about the band at the time, and we had more then our share of Freudian mothers lurking in the shadows, bitter and controlling...

- You sound a bit bitter...

- AU Conn-Tray-YER MON AMeeeeee... I have a piece of peace now... However, mind control from people around an artist, is important,

when painting a verbal portrait of a singer....





I've learned it's healthy to, "tell on my self" a little...
A lot is better. I gotta be honest...(Long Pause)

SOOOOO anyWHoooooo... Schooner Time. Equinox Rox. My shackle of a Freudian wife was in tow, be-cause she planned on parlaying this gig into a vocal spot next to me... Yikes... I would have committed "Foo-UH-cide"... (oh, she could sing. not as well as she controlled and It wasn't easy... resisting her mind games, and manipulation, and set up an audition with the band...) I was a bit nervous... but way more excited... Marriage be damned. I was out to land this gig!





The Band, Nunna, Harris, and joined on drums by Zack Kelly, calling themselves 'Equinox', rented a small room with a PA, and the 4 of us came together to try on for size, the sound of the previously agreed covers... "Red Barchetta"by Rush, and "Carry On Wayward Son" by Kansas. (Both Harris and myself enjoyed Kansas on a Spiritual level)... So, not all that nervous... we had a good jam. I massacred the Rush classic, but for 'Carry On' I laid some soulful taffy... then we played around with originals, and Eric and Zack (Prashant, too, I think) loved my free form rap, and written lyrics... With style, and substance... I got the gig.









Before we go any farther with the story of the band... we must introduce a section I have entitled:

"The Judy Factor"

Judy 1, will be my X.

Eric's Judy will be 2

Zach will have 3

Prashant 4

Ali, was always the wisest of us all. More centered. Cooks and eats healthy foods. Lives in a simple town-home in TO... Waitin'.

Ali has the patience of a camel, full of dates and oasis spring H2o... He crossed the Atlantic in the '70's to become an engineer... instead he became an epic composer, who works at the library... he has some of the greatest Faith I have ever encountered on the 3rd Rock From The Sun...

But Ali, isn't even in this story yet, so I digress---


But is the Judy factor relevant to the story of Groove Damage?

Yes!


Because relatives are relevant.

In my understanding of Freudian Psychology the Oedipus complex is not a sexually perverted theory (He was called by some the "dirty old man of psychology") but rather, an astute observation of repeating cycles in the lives of humans.

So in my case, and the reason I call this section the Judy Factor, and each wife Judy (digit) is because Judy 1 is the woman I know best. The other women in the lives of the members of Groove Damage, exhibited many of the same behaviors as my Ambiguoso wife. Furthermore, to recap, the band and I were alot alike and the friendships grew, but not until we rejoined.

I suffered an exhausting attack of Judy's special brand of Cauldron Witchcraft... we hadn't been married long, and she gave me both barrels...


In her words, we needed to 'work on the marriage', a card she played many times throughout the 6 years we were together... In my mind, it was always a hiatus. In retrospect, I believe the band chose an inferior vocalist, but with a tone similar to mine to lay the vocal parts written by the band.

Eric asked me once upon a decade, "How do you write a song?" and I looked at him for a long moment and realized, that he not only wanted to really know, but that it was no longer a threat to me for the bass player (or anyone else) to write lyrics, and I happily shared my wisdom in the form of a metaphorically clever song that went to Prashant's music and was called "Equinox" in honor of the band. The lyrics weren't bad, but I wrote them in a way that would open Eric up to write his own lyrics. i.e. I threw in something about quest for knowledge there, cruising a starship here, etc.. Then I sang it and threw some STANK on it. Eric and I always understood each other, which is why he re-wrote that song, but, kept my theme alive. Only, intellectually and poetically more adequately represented the idea. What can I say, I fucking LOVE this band!!





---SECOND ATTENTION---


So, I had spent approx 8 months, in a special brand of hell, created by Judy 1.

Using the term 'work(ing) on our "marriage",' Judy talked me into walking away from my heart, which was Equinox.

During this period, Eric, Zach, and Prashant, as mentioned, worked with some bad singers... Women who could not come anywhere close to singing well enough to play with "my" band. Even on a cover, like "Brass In Pocket"...


Calling themselves "Second Attention", the boys were more then frustrated... I too, at 'home', was in a state of medicated depression, due to all of Judy 1's, "Tender, loving, care"...

However, I never stopped holding the truth in my mind, despite Judy 1's hypnosis (what she didn't know she learned from my evil mother)...
I never lost faith, and I never stopped seeking G-d, in prayer for the answer...

One day, after buying a brand new 5 subject note book, I received the answer to my petitions, in the form of an entire Rock Opera. I was working in a Vinyl LP plant, and was mopping the nickel from the floor, when, in a daydream, I conceived the concept that was to become COMMANDER GATOR AND THE SWAMPADELIC SPACE BRIGADE...

When I got home, (hours before Judy 1 squeezed through LA traffic)... I wrote the programme, and then the narration, and then the lyrics, song after song, one right after another, in one fell swoop... though drawn from my own experiences, and based on myself, and friends, this opera seemed to be channeled through me... It kind of freaked me out, because, I didn't black out... I was aware of the fact, that these lyrics were being suggested to me, for me, and about me... It was amazing... I could almost even hear the music... It was complete, before Judy 1 got home, including the phone call to Prashant.... I praised Jesus... this was it...

Staying in touch with Prashant, (I checked in every so often, to inquire on status of band, and my friend Prashant... He and I were instant friends). There was no doubt in my mind how good this thing was written. I knew this was what I wanted to do. There was only one guitarist to write this with me... Prashant Nunna.

I called and told him of Gator... He loved the concept over the phone, and came over the next day to work on music.

Playing my 12 string Ovation, he wrote a huge chunk of the music for the vocal parts... and I could see Prashant understood my word pictures, and the instrumentals would be perfect... He could hear the music, instantly... we were on fire... furthermore we, sounded good together... heck, we always did... Ambiguoso gypsy from Springville, Utah... Ambiguoso gypsy from Smallzville, India... Churched. Damaged. Puppetized by "Mama"... Jah brought this duo together... Gator was unfolding faster then Judy 1 could control, (ahhhh... but lord knows she gave it Hell...)... my marriage was ending... bondage being broken... medication being abandoned... spirit felt/known... balance... more then ever before... I was free...

"WHEN THE WALLS C[A]ME TUMBL'IN DOWN"

Toward the end:

Judy 1
Brings me "Stand Up Comedy class", but puts strict regulation on material... 'do not make fun of [her] family...'. Stand Up Comedy is hardly an art form, and it was painful staying glued to set that I was only marginally interested in... I am funny. My comedy was not.

G-d
Brings me Ventura Area Theater Sports, and I learn the rules of improv, (I just opened up and all these characters came pouring out... ) I become a regular player (and large draw) within weeks... My "band of Merry misfits" are immune to Judy 1's Dark Side Mind Tricks... and I play characters based on her family, my family, friends, and outside conditions are affecting me less and less...
------
Judy 1 had lost the grip. I learned to ignore her gripes. Repel her gropes. Exchanged grease for Grapes... and Grooved my way to 'sanity'... The experiment was over. "DING dong... the [fuckin'] Witch is dead..."



---what the Ventura Theater meant for Evil, Jah meant for Good---




The Screw Job




Sometime in the midst of our hiatus from hell... I had convinced Ali to join this project. It was not easy to do so... Mr. Razavi was playing keyboards for my friend Kathy Jensen's Band. Kat was a kindred spirit of mine, and she knew, 1- I was looking for a pianist 2- Ali was miserably uncomfortable with KJB, and was really bored.

She suggested I come over to the gig, and listen to Ali.

When I got there, I could ONLY hear him (even though he was way too under modulated)...
The band was good, (wedding/mitzvahs/worship jamboree) but KJ was right, he was too good to be there, but too humble to leave. I told him HE was the guy for Gator. He loved the concept... he insisted he was not, 'the guy' but knew the guy... (see what I mean, humble).... so, on a hunch, I asked the Persian-American, if he knows my guitarist, a cat named, Prashant?

"Nunna?", Razavi asked, wearing a grin that created Cheshire Envy...

'Yep.' I says...

With wisdom that can scarce be found in americA, Ali proclaims. "OK. I'll try it..."

Now, with new O2 and a lifted burden... he called Prashant. The rest is History: Yet to be told.

Ali wrote the remainder of the pieces, and augmented Prashant's melodies... This was one cracker Jack-song writing trio. We became friends. Ali and Prashant met out each week for local music, and conversation.
I had my comedy classes, and gigs at the VATS improv theater...

The three of us, went through a myriad of players. Drummers, bassists... The best of the lot was Steven J. Barbarine, who was the Bassist for my old band 'Strait Street Project'.

Man I love to listen to him play. He's soul with a metal edge, ala Badlands... only with 'ItalianoFunk' slathered all over it. Which would have completed my 'Mediterranean Combo' by the by... just joshin' ya'll... lol.

Prashant hated Steve.

Barbarine, who holds not one iota of hate in his heart however, and is an excellent and witty debater and orator, was not afraid of Prashant, and encouraged me to "lead" my band and he (they) would follow.

(Steve had the best ideas, about most things)...

'Kingroc's' lingo offended Prashant's managerial sensibilities... and he struggled with what Tolkien likened to, Gollum & "The Precioussss"... control. grabbing. entitlement. Sin...
a mentality that was building from his frustration, and inability to control his anger...

Prashant wanted it all to be immediate. But Steve was/is my friend. He is just solid. Furthermore the guy can 'do whut Ee doo'.... I was staying out of it.

Steve did not play/learn/practice/or think the way Prashant did... (Classical culture-clash & Emotional may-lay P way)... and he was not afraid to say so.

Prashant resented Steve.

I wanted to back both players... at the time I was what Stevie B. calls, "oblivious", and not leading the band, and he was 100% right...

However, Prashant and I knew... that even as much I loved Steve, and grooved on his sound. As much as I respected his leadership/friendship...
Prashant and I, and now Ali, were always to remain with "Equinox/SecondAttention"...

Eric and Zach, were the ONLY players for the job...

We invited the dynamic duo to watch us on the Calvary Chapel Camarillo stage, in the local festival. We had a kid from church on drums(good drummer). Steven J. Barbarine on bass, and enough "fans-imly/ friend-ience" to, make the two of them really wanna listen... they knew they liked me as a singer/songwriter/front man, and Prashant was still their guitarist... Hey, they dug the concept, dug Ali's work, and knew that the collective 'we' could turn it out...

With Jah's hand, Steve and the drummer quit.

Steve, to stay faithful to G-d's leading, and the kid, because we weren't "Christian enough"... he was right to a point... I wasn't playing the "church game" any longer. I saw how far they would NOT go with the musical gospel...

(I am sorry his name escapes me... but not only was he not old enough to play bars, he didn't want to for "moral reasons", what ever... Mozel tov , Danny, or Skippy, or Mikey??? Peace unto you ...)




We moved to Zack's parents 6 car stable and compound, where we had room to create, and with THIS rhythm section, we came alive. IT was on, muthafucka!!

'We' agreed upon the name I had brought from my job at Record Technology Inc, a manufacturing term, for static on an LP record... "Groove Damage"... We loved it, and it is us... many dimensions...

For 4 years, (after the two we spent trying to find the band) we honed and perfected Gator.

Prashant had decided to complete his education, and he majored in Music at University. He grew much as a player during his studies, but not spiritually. He became colder and more calculated, and still withheld... (how hard it must be to be a foreigner in this country...)
Judy 4 working her own brand of motherly voodoo, Prashant's resentment growing like ivy, and his slow but steady loss, of the word given to him... all contributed to his turning in, and swelling with prideful hate...
He was told, in his own words, "...by God, to write this music For JD. It was for him."

Prashant was changing, and not for the better. The more he listened, the less he understood in the lyrics, it took years for this non-americAn-americAn, to try and comprehend the meanings... one thing he knew, the lyrics contained allegory and metaphor, and he couldn't find the key to either...

After much work, practice was turning to boredom in the garage, and while we had played Gator before, (though not as Groove Damage), the band felt it time to gig locally...

We booked a night to play the Majestic Ventura Theater... Time to share Gator with the people was the consensus of Groove Damage... even though I knew it wasn't true.
G-d was telling me to wait...

The spirit was gone from the project... Prashant was bloated, and getting more angry by the minute... He had assumed control of the project... but it didn't matter. G-d was pulling it back, and I was the only one who was receptive to that spirit. After all, G-d was using me every day to change lives of strangers, and not with a band backing me... My ministry to the "children of the night" was in full swing, and it was far more important then playing music, no matter how good that music was/is... By this time, the band had lost touch with the band...

Voices in the ears of the rest of Groove Damage, were not friendly toward me (Judy 2 - 10 ad nauseaum).
I appeared to be a goof off, who would kill our chances at "making it"... I am sure though, that not one of the "Freudian Mother(s)" , wanted to loose the 'man' they squeezed, to screaming fans/groupies...
I know Judy 1 didn't, but she was jettisoned before she could damage Groove Damage... The other Judy digits were more successful...

But biological moms, and metaphorical moms aside... we were moving against the Spirit from On High, and I knew this.

Was I a goof off? Sort of. My voice was often far off pitch during practice, (LSD)... (but mostly when the band was 'dead', or I was distracted...) . Like I said, G-d had started my ministry, and I was thinking differently about people, Christ, the Gospel as I understood it, and as I didn't understand it... I was learning philosophy, sociology, and creative Myth... I was transcending, and it seemed the only member of the band who was...

I knew that when the time was right, I would be a miraculous vocalist, and bored goofing aside, this opera was for this band...

However, Gator was to wait... something had to be fulfilled in Prophesy... There was allegory and metaphor within Gator, that even I was yet to see the full meaning of... To get to it, I would have to shelve my "Baby", and continue on my quest for the Highest of Truth...

Was I crazy?

Walking away from a 'sure thing' band, and project... (A band that played in a garage, but was ANYTHING but a garage band)... giving up music, my life long dream, and pursuit?

I knew that, soon I would have to leave. Whether the band could understand why or not.

The gig at the Majestic Ventura Theater was my confirmation it was time to go.

Everything was going wrong.















My fans were my flock...(Photo Subject not an actual member of the Street people of Ventura, but an incredible simulation)


...the people from the streets of Ventura, Oxnard, Santa Barbara, and elswherez.


They could not afford the ridiculously over priced tickets, and The Majestic had screwed us out of two weeks of promotion, and did not honor one of the promises made to us... save, a recording of the show.

The place was practically empty the fateful night we graced that magnificent stage. The sound check was for the band that played before us... so our recording was not good. Ali's keys are almost absent from the disc. We gave it a hell of a go though...
we played our hearts out...

We got offers that night, to be placed on the CamperVanBeethoven/Cracker tour.The band was open for it, but I knew, and just needed to hear from Prashant, that we were to wait...

However, Prashant's reason to wait was not based in wisdom and searching for meaning... it was based in a growing hate for my voice...

I turned down all offers...
----------

Shortly after our night at the Ventura Theater, I booked us a gig at a small bar across the street from The Majestic... we were cramped, crammed and had to set up apart, kinda spread all over the court yard... I was suffering from a bad case of "LSD", and missed near every musical cue... I sang off key a bit, and the band was frustrated...

After Gator, Eric pulled me aside, and made the statement that, I was sounding bad, and that he (personally) was there to back me up, and didn't want me to be a clown. He wanted me to sound great, like I had in the garage... he was right.

After the band meeting ( and two subsequent meetings with just Prashant and Ali) , we discussed all this, and the fact that I would have to quit for now.

"Please shelve Gator", I pleaded. As good as these musicians are, there were plenty of pieces we had in 'the wings' the 4 of them could work on, whilst I was on my sojourn... "try to understand", I begged... I don't think they ever did...

They practiced Gator for a spell with out me, finally shelving it... then parting company, they hardly talk any more...






------------------Quase Famosos-------------




So there we were... saying goodbye.

At the time, No one in the band could see what was really the issue.


The boys, all 4 of'em, were rich kids, who grew up to be money makers in their non-creative pursuits... They could never grasp that 100 dollars, was ALOT of cash for this poor kid from Springville to dish out... I couldn't afford fancy instruments, which seemed affordable to the band. I struggled to stay in working harmonicas, let alone, vocal processors, or what ever they suggested I buy...

Furthermore, the demo was a mess.

The live recording aside(not broadcast quality), the studio demo was a night mare... Prashant had assigned himself the job of captain of our little ship... I never asked him to lead the band. The band sought musical direction from him... He misunderstood, as usual. My leadership was different... maybe a bit ineffectual at the time, I was trying to explain, that I wanted to be free of burdens like booking, and chump change, so I could become these characters...

I needed him to finish the music. That the opera could be complete. He took it upon himself to wear 50 hats. He chose to dish out top 'dollah' to a friend of his from school, to record this "album"... I told him then, and say again now, 'Nobody was paying us to record this opera'... so even if he was spending a million of 'mama'(or whoever's) dollars on recording it...'it is a demo'... nothing more.

He insisted on the band playing individually in the studio. Killing the 'live' excitement and feeling we got as a group. He restricted Erics creativity, he dismissed the band as irrelevant once their parts were laid down. He 'punched in' the majority of the more technical parts, which, also killed the live feel of the entire opera music... he was bossy, and unreasonable, and deliberately defied my vision, so he could remain in "CONTROL"...

The India native, even used a keyboard in lieu of an actual Sitar... sacrilege to say the least...

He had used veiled threats several times during our practices, to insinuate that I was replaceable... maybe so... but it was during a post recording brewhaha, that I set him strait... Prashant said, " I don't think this is working out"... "fine", I said calmly. "We'll finish here [in the studio], and I will get a new guitarist!"

Flabbergasted, he was still from that moment on.

He realized, for the first time, that ALL and any of us are replaceable.

He conceded. We barley spoke after that.

I have yet to receive the full opera demo. I know he (probably still) struggle(s/ed) with whether or not he would allow his musical compositions to be continued as Commander Gator.
Despite the fact, he didn't have a single note of this piece, until I presented the concept/lyrics to him...


"I'm the front man! You're the lead guitarist with mystique!"

Prashant, continuing in his tradition, of holding out, and has not released to me the music, for Commander Gator & the Swampadelic Space Brigade.

Perhaps in writing this (the only article to date) on Groove Damage, I have left out important information about my own failings with this amazing band. I wanted to make it clear, that my "urge for going" was based in the Spiritual.

It was never meant, not even by G-d Herself, as an end to the band.


I made a myriad of mistakes... what can I say, I was inflicted with Lead Singer Disease... No doubt about it... While that is true, it is also true, that there was a method to my madness...

That, as many times as Prashant broke my heart, I was striving for the greater good.

Prashant... as a musician, he's one of my all time favorite guitarists... Temper tantrums aside, I love the kid... He may have felt at the time that I was reason he was getting fat, and angry, but he brought that latent anger to the band... he was angry before we started, though he knew not why... It is easy to point fingers and blame... I had to watch him put on the pounds. I had to take the sting of his comments...












Singers Have A Bad Rap



There is no cutesy terminology for what guitarists and bassists, and drummers suffer from...

Maybe we singers deserve the title of clown.

So few of us, ever make an eternal difference. Showmen, not Shamans...


Bands are funny animals. So many die before the world discovers them.

Others are poached by the "empire", and chewed up by the "industry".

A lot of bands, have life long members, joining up in childhood, and managing to somehow navigate through the muck and mire of Pop Culture.

Groove Damage was not formed, until all the members were adults. We didn't have opportunity (save Harris and Kelly) to spend a lifetime playing together, but, we have today, tomorrow, and beyond...

If I was Mr. Nunna, and reading this, I might feel attacked, or singled out, or slandered... I would be wrong in all accounts.

I am not singling out Prashant. I am not placing blame for anything on anyone. The Judy Digits are not even to blame.

The truth is, Commander Gator could have made me and all of GD, millionaires 5 times over...

I studied Voice Over with Ned Lott of Disney Studios, as well as with Brent Brace, and some of the finest in the field.

I got an offer from Mr. Lott for a submission of Gator to him, and that studio... It was integrity, and dedication to higher principles, that made me not "cash in" on Gators marketability.

I didn't want my Characters to adorn 'Happy Meals', I didn't want cross marketing, and I damn sure Did not and Do not, want my female character to be a "Disney Princess"...

No. I wanted to assure that all the allegory, and metaphor, remained in tact, on CDR Gator. Disney would have raped the story, and Pixar, violently fuck the film...

It's too valuable to mankind. I really believe that. A silly little story about an alligator cruising to outer space in a Caddy... It's the message. The prophesy of Gator is what matters.

I owed it to Groove Damage collectively, to their respective significant others, and to the World as a whole, to keep this project pure and pristinely in tact.

Being poor my whole life, has taught me that money is transitory, and goes faster then it comes... Money can not be the motivation of this singer, because I have turned down stacks of it.

---------

Words and Music.



Words and music go together like peanut butter and jelly.

In our case, the music would not exist with out the words. The concept.

The words would not exist, were it not for petition, if not, for my crying for sanity (in chaos)... I am creative. I am a writer. However, I could not have written this, with out the guidance of something greater then myself.

Eric Harris, who is Groove Damage's strongest lyricist (I am proud to say), drew his inspiration from the sacred as well. His song 'New Reality": a cyber lament, came from watching the Ten Commandments on TV...

This band, though not traditionally "Christian", has more integrity, and far deeper concepts then any cookie cutter "Jesus" band ever dreamed of...

I was wrestling with Ego when I left California. Mine. The bands.

The band has no idea how close to "legend" i came... (See part 3)

I chose wisely, and G-d is pleased.

I don't want to loose a single member of this band, I love them so much more then they can know...

-----

I am asking the members of Groove Damage to leave the crumbling "Golden State", and travel with me to present our work to the world.

Soon. A 3 day presention of Gator will commence in Salt Lake City... Mr. Razavi has agreed to come and back me up... and I am pleased to announce, that for all 3 shows, I will sing every character.

Jah willing, the remaining members of Groove Damage, will "fasten up [their] seat belts and enjoy the ride"... visit, gig, tour, move, continue following the leading of G-d.

------------







Stay Tuned For Part 3; anatomy of a singer: in relation to a band; Van Halen.
I am looking forward to finishing it...


La Vie Boheme
... and 2wo to grow on

the anatomy of a singer; in relation to a band:

Part 1- meat vs. milk;





LSD= *Lead Singer Disease:

*Any condition that causes an otherwise talented singer, to forget she/he is a musician, and act like a clown. *Any condition that blocks said same singer from remembering they are musicians, whilst 'stinking up the place', by missing their musical cue, or singing off key, because they were "entertaining" [themselves]. *Any condition that causes the singer to inflate his own ego to the point that they feel the band is not relevant. *Any condition, brought on by puffing and fame, that leads the now former artist, to becoming addicted to "suck pills"... ad nauseam.








____




"The Good, The Bad, & The Ugly"



Melody*

*It's what the band 'secretly' writes, for the singer to find.



So few can hear it, not many can tell... singing "pretty good", to the radio does not make you a good singer. Any player who ever had to sit through bad auditions, can shout "AMEN"??


Let's assume the best of the lot {hic}, gets the gig...

It is now more then important that the lyrics be sharp and thought provoking, the vocals honed, the melody in place, it must be sung with surgical precision... furthermore, one must not sound like another one.


Yes... it takes a talent of abundance, to front a band.





Obviously, vocal prowess is not enough. One must be able to handle ones affairs off the stage, and out of the studio... Even the best singer, must maintain a regiment of self love, and care.

Distractions like hard drugs, burning libido, and general mischief, must be kept at arms length, and mastered with guru like strength...

Alcohol has killed more vocal careers then stylistic and popularity changes...

Sinatra is quoted as saying "I never met a singer worth his salt that didn't smoke 3 packs a day..." and he may have been right... but without proper technique, cigarettes will surely take a toll on vox performance. Not to mention air in-take, and physical stamina...

Add alcohol, heroine, groupie abuse, or any number of "coffin nails", and the singer will be a walking corpse, dragging themselves from gig to gig, being both literally and figuratively "dead weight", to the rest of the band...


"Coooool VOCalzzMan"

Style...

IS style enough?

Let's say you are the most original sounding singer to ever grace a microphone... But you, night after night, sacrifice good technique for "cool" effects... then, you are among the myriad of vocalists who destroyed their instruments permanently... Like Joplin(above), Rose, Steve Walsh, David Gilmour, [add favorite here]... Problems like nodules, tearing, burning, and permanent laryngitis... have caused many "legends", to start from scratch... and try to rebuild vocal strength... an impossible task, if any or more of the causes for instrument neglect aren't eradicated from the life style of the singer...

Repair takes time... windows close... Sometimes the band is a little harsh in expectation, perhaps...

Pete Townsend never tried to play an axe that he smashed the night before... it would be more ridiculous then the smashing of the guitar...

Yet, singers, are expected to, night after night, sound like the album... we know that a singer can't go down to the guitar shop, and buy a new larynx, with processors
and pick ups... If while in the 'Motor City', a "shreddin" front man, shreds his vox, by Montreal, he better sound good again, or there is stress in the band... bad reviews in the press, AND a "buzz" 'round town, of the imminent demise of the once great "leader"... the radio will play an old studio cut, and the jock make a smug comment, "...sounded better in '72, what can I say???"


How much should a band put up with? At what point has a "hiatus" gone into a break up? Is there such a thing as too much patience?



It's a tough gig, singer.

So few masters.

The ones that are touted as such, are considered gods...But gods don't get worse with age... gods don't blow the show... gods don't become fodder for late night monologue "comedy"...

Gods deliver.



To be a "god" of "Rock 'n' Roll", it takes more then 'great vocals'... many who are considered great, had showmanship, had style, looks, verve, energy, and could work a crowd... but beyond the bands originals, and selected cover tunes, singing was not their strength... they are remembered for the show... but a "show" by definition is phony... luck and talent are not the same thing... Skill, makes the great, great. Craftsmanship...























A good singer can do creative things within the iron barred barricade that is a song. Things that a guitarist can only dream of...

But the best singers in rocks history, have not been "Front men"... They could/(can) stand on stage, hit the vocal parts perfectly, and that is impressive... but if one leaves an audience wanting sooo much more, then you leave your band wanting so much more... Steve Perry was good(mmmmmm, does he still front that band?). Mike Reno(Loverboy... who?) had an amazing vocal range, but live it was like watching CSPAN on TV... Don Dokken is sleepy on stage, (but who can argue with that powerhouse singing voice? Bored rock fans, that's who)...



----



-Balance-


----




Singer vs Shaman
________________

The Sacred Dance...




Since Dawns creation, the striking of skins stretched across a log, has caused human feet to move to the rhythm of the drum beat... Drums can signify Prayer, petition, communication, and war declaration...

The singer raises their voice...

And with words directed skyward, or inward, or outward... Have communicated with the music... within the music.

Does G-d take singers seriously?

one must conclude, "Yes".


The Sacred Dance Continues...
_____________________________





So many great singers make themselves a joke.

So many talented vocalists write sophomoric, and sexually charged lyrics. So few have much, if anything to say... they write tripe, and act the fool...


Modern Rock...
______________




Some claim the advent of Disco was the death of rock and roll... The end of the 1970's, awash in designer jeans, and designer drugs... the population embraced the drum machine, en mass... Lyrics, thought provoking lyrics had all but gone... it became all about the dance now... not a sacred dance, heralding petition and praise to the Creator... but a cocaine induced gyration, a hypnosis, that bred the disco nightclub lifestyle of Party, Party, Party... "[We] love[d] the night life, [we] love[d] to boogie..."

Dead by the early 1980's, disco can hardly be blamed for rocks gasping last breath...Lyrics, thought provoking lyrics had all but gone... this is true... but we could not always find the best lyrics in the best songs. In the 70's true perfection in rock, was found in a style they called "Progressive". Bands made concept albums, and concept was keen. It was not the most lucrative brand of rock, and by the early 1980's Progressive rockers like Genesis, Rush, and Alan Parsons Project, had abandoned the 16 minute deep concept, rock symphony, and were creating disco-esque pop/rock... flying in the face of earlier work like "Spirit Of Radio", "The Lamb Lies Down On Broadway", and "Tales Of Mystery And Imagination"...

So, there we were... hungry for rock. The bands who labored endlessly thru the 70's, playing what someone dubbed "Heavy Metal", suddenly were en vogue. They were everywhere... Lesser versions of Van Halen and Led Zeppelin... with golden boy "front men" on mic to drive the "80's Ladies" screaming mad with wiggles, kicks, and screams... most could sing well (enough)... most put a lot into the stage show, there were some great "rock acts" in the 1980's... unfortunately, most of the "hair bands" of the 80's wrote lyrics almost identical to the lascivious, and mindlessly misogynistic rhyming disco... Sex, drugs, and "rock 'n' Roll"...


Gone was the great uprising promised by 60's Rock Bands...


Now... we had leather clad rockers, "fuck[ing] like a Beast"...


Even from those singers considered "the Best", we had bacchanalia, misogyny, and praise to the penis...





Role models, who modeled a Junior High locker room mentality, when it came to words...


fashion rock...


Few of those bands are even remembered...


Enter 1990, enter "Grunge"...

Now... rock is off balance again...


we still have great rock songs.

Most even have great lyrics, finally.

Not many of the bands have what we can call "great singing voices"... Most of the so-called great lyrics, are lost, because we can not understand the words... style, over substance, with a punk attitude... BassAckwards...

Also, in rebellion to the plastic rock arena extravaganza, we have artists who are not interested in 'performing"...

with little to no show, left in the showmanship...

Shoegaze rock was born... (some of those "slackers" even had the audacity to use a drum machine...)

Soulless. Lifeless. (???)

More of the same with a brand new name...


Rock... is fucking dead...








Has the world been changed by music?



I would say, yes, but not for the better...


Musicians have proven to be less then powerful influencer's for good...

After Scantron machines were installed in Christian Bookstores, and Major Labels saw the money to be made from "Positive Rock", they scooped up artists and labels by the truckload throughout Christendom... Churning out more of the same crap with 'Jesus lyrics'... Watered down of course... and to what end?





Seems year after year, the same thing is happening in the "industry"... formula...



Baby Boomers make big bucks...

So, Led Zeppelin now sells Cadillacs.


Freddy Mercury's thought provoking and pain filled lyrics are turned into a "Broadway" style Las Vegas smegma fest...



I can't listen to classic rock radio, with out relating near every "hit" still in rotation to products, goods, and services...

It has indeed, "been a long time since I rock and rolled"...


---------

To Be Continued...

La 'ive' Boheme
with a peck to grow on...

Oy Vey... one of those days...

Exhausting.

I guess I should write down the kind of day it was. Truth is, it was so wild, they might use this article to try and commit me one day... So I'll leave out the Golden Eagle, The Crow, The Temple Steeples and peoples,the train (not) in vain, the "valley"skaters, the canyon luge dare deveels, the crocheting court clerk, tattoo removal ala Mother Nature, French classics on the train, Gorgeous George the Lesbian Golfer... Yeah, describing 'a day in the life', is like capturing oxygen between your thumbs and administering CPR. So, the relaying of Facts, related to the unseen, and not supported by Federal Fictional Data(FFD), could result in Gestapo ammunition... Ha. Send In The Clowns. The Night Fly aint a fear'd No Gov't...

I stayed at Diane's pad last night. (That's a topic for an whole 'nuther article, Lams and Lambettes)

BUUUUT anywho...

Spent the day in Salt Lake City!


The more I am in town,the more I know this is Zion.

The vibe is coming down to the 'Have's' & 'Have Not's'... That is... Those who have the Spirit of G-d in them. Verses, those who seem to be carrying some other kind of 'Spirit' all together.



---"...I can't help but feel, Someone broke the Seventh Seal"


And the place is fucking CRAWLING with Fed Pigs, Listening devices, cameras, and Utah Nat'l Guardsmen, ready to plug any one who awakes from the prozak slumber, that the jet streams are leaving...

(Hell, they have been putting Fluoride in the water here since the 70's or earlier... Why do you think nobody was pissed off at BYU in the turbulent late 1960's?)

Well... I am pissed off now...

But on a day like today, I realize G-d has this whole thing HANDLED, and I (nor ya'll) have a single worry...

The Peoples Army is poised and ready.

Which is why I know this tour is soon to commence.

Get to midnight on a day that was filled with sacred study, sharing, new introductions, high times in a corner of bushes at the library... Progress in several areas of personal development. Vocal superiority ( I humbly brag), sculpture, painting, and cemented friendships and brotherhoods of faces of races... whew... after that kind of day, the "devil" will whisper that it was all a WHOPPING BOMB, and that I am never gonna get thru this financial slump, and my dreams are all in the pipe... At the witching hour, it is My prayer to Jah, coupled with thoughts of Ed and fam, that keep me moving forward...








------

I have been feeding on Ed's energy and prayer lately too... I can feel him doing the rain dance... I think we are keeping each other afloat thru this, now... power of prayer. True meditation, brings me thoughts of the Van Halen Trio... My petitions are lifted and heard, and I feel instant response from the Left Coast... Wow... it's been that kind of day... Worship. No box. No Program. Truth the only agenda... I told Samson today, that Jesse said one day, concerning Me, "[He was] preaching to the preacher"... at the timme I was like FUUUFFSHUUUUoooow... I am still kind of like that right now... true tears, come from Joy... not sorrow...




































(I remebah YAs back in the day... The fo ov yuz, looking hotter then Georgia Ass-Fault... Then there were the shows... (you know I have never been the same room with you...) Live, You always looked like you were having so much fuckin' fun... even in the midst of drunken buffoonery from so called 'leaders'... they broke your heart again and again... but they never broke your spirit... you fall... you apply Big Daddy Kingroc's principle #1: "Stumble Forward"). Man I'm fucking proud of you...






















Anyway... I am ready for those investors in Gator to step up! My rents over due, and so is this project!



---"...Don't let Me drown in Mother Earths Soul, yet... NOT YET!"---

What do you have to loose? Samson is seriously going to tear a hole in this comic book to the 7th dimension... when he gets time... we're paying dues, the blood hounds are starting to get letigiouslyfigity...(What, Me worry?)... and Diane is working overtime for her 'Lady', and wagon train.




































Let's take the wagon, and turn it to a 'Gravy Train With Biscuit Wheels'... This is an opera of Biblical Proportions... you have to hear it, to Believe it...



Words fail to describe how I look forward to finally sitting down and talking... getting thru pleasantry and surprises... listening to Commander Gator & the Swampadelic Space Brigade, and G-d willing, roll this fucking ball over some landscape... Healing, Harvest, and the Sweetest of all, "the Axiom", in all Her Glory...

















Am I dreaming?

















The Van Halen Trio featuring JD Davis of Groove Damage.


I can make this promise: I'll turn the the fucking thing out (no one else can do this...), help heal old riffs, and write the definitive biography, on My most transcendent, and all time favorite band....


---"...There must be some kind of way that we can make it RIGHT... But, I just can't do it all with out YOU..."---
Meld with me.

Sincerely,

JD Davis




















"Shine On...", La Vie Boheme

"Pull 'em In SGT. Frog..."

OK. So this is a hideous rendition from Photoshop, as to what Gunnery SGT. Frog, of the SS Brigade, might look like... as I learn more about this program, these will get progressively better. Samson says it looks pretty cool, he may just be being nice to the boss...

Remember Fans, in no way do I think these are terrific renditions of my characters... these are just sneak peeks at the infancy of designs... good enough for this moment, but far from ready...

Anyway... SGT. Frog is a, strong, silent type, character. Represented by the Bass player... who is Eric Harris. I don't think he could be replaced, even from the pantheon of great Bass Guitarists...

In other words... if I could resurrect John Entwhistle, I wouldn't... because in my not so humble opinion, Harris is better... Eric just makes Groove Damage, Groove Damage... There is no I in team... there is no I in Bass either... But there are two I's in Eric Harris... and ALOT of friggin soul!

More as it becomes available!

La Vie Boheme

"I can't do this alone! I'm gonna need a crew..."

This a SUUUUUper rough sketch of First Officer Owl, (LT-Jr. Grade), of the Swampadelic Space Brigade, on deck of Swamp Ship 'Cajun Thunder'...

Of course on film, in print, and what not, he will look much better.

I used Photoshop to make him, for the site. He looks much better in Acrylic.

Samson360 is currently working on the background sketches for the comic book, in between his two other jobs, but I am pleased with his vision, and this will be a book to rival 3D posters in a staring contest... only, this is hand drawn shtuff, from the twisted yet fertile mind of Samson...!!!


More as it becomes available...

La Vie Boheme

"Yeah, Yeah, you go on and bang your bongos..."- (Tom Hanks' That Thing You Do!)

I've been listening to my favorite drummer, Zach Kelly.


This kid has a way of laying the drum notes the way a singer lays the vocal melody. He's a rhythm drummer. Like Ed Van Halen is a Rhythm guitarist. He drives the band. He's the transmission. Keeping the tunes rolling forward, applying torque and force when necessary.


And, when a gentle cruise in the moon light is required, he drops the top, and gives a soulful performance, of the symphotyc receptions in his inner sanctum.


--------------
man 1- "I'm comedian."

man 2- "what's the hardest part of your j..."
MAN1-"TIMING"

Prashant Nunna once said: "Ringo Star is the greatest drummer of all time, because he is the perfect time keeper."

Buddy Miles received a similar complement from Mitch Mithchell: "He's like a cement mixer."

Kelly defies this kind of comparison, because he's unique in his time keeping.
He kind of just 'feels' the spirit of the moment, and keeps the time the gods are asking for... he's like the drummer in the house band on Mt. Olympus! He creates a musical Baccanalia that spills it's drunken soulfulness all over the willing beer slut that is the crowd. Live, this drummer is an indisputable monster.

What Zach Kelly brings to the section is Rhythm. I can't imagine how Eric Harris could do his voogoodvoodoo, with out Kelly's 'Eye of Newt, Pinch of powdered Bats wing'...

Man I fucking love this band.

La Vie Boheme