Curse of the Ivory Tower - Isen Torr Rough Mixes

[25 July 2011: Please note: this entry is under heavy construction. Check back for updates! -P]


Isen Torr is just about as arcane a band name as Cirith Ungol. What the hell does it mean? What language is that? Well, let's just say it translates out as "white tower" in many variations of the Celtic or Gaelic tongues. Not something you'd expect to contribute to any kind of commercial success, nor was it conceived to. We're talkin' underground, man. Cult! Culte! Kult! Kvlt! Cvlt! Isen Torr was/is Solstice guitarist and songwriter Rich Walker's baby. Rich wrote the tunes, chose the musicians he wanted to work with and organized the recording of the first in what was planned to be a triad of vinyl EPs. The title? Mighty and Superior. Want to hear the tunes? Stick around. We'll get there eventually.






Isen Torr - July 2003

I first met Rich Walker in 1999 when he and wife Lucy tagged along with Destiny's End and Sacred Steel on tour for nearly two weeks. Solstice was not playing, but Rich was good mates with singer Gerrit Mutz and Oli Grosshans (former rhythm guitarist, ex-Naevus) from Sacred Steel. He was also, I might add, a metal pen pal of mine for a few years at that time. We were introduced via snail mail by mutual friend and fellow metal and weird fiction nut Rob Preston. Rich and I instantly hit it off in person as much as we did through letters and email. We shared a love for Clark Ashton Smith's elaborate doom-laden fantasy forays and Lovecraft's slimy slitherers from beyond the stars. Hangin' with Rich on tour in Europe in Aug. '99 solidified something in my mind: I would one day work musically with this bloke!

Solstice logo

Jens Sonnenberg, Dan DeLucie, Jim Powell, Perry Grayson and Gerrit Mutz
Destiny's End, Sacred Steel & Wardog Euro tour, August 1999

Rich Walker and his trusty '69 Gibson SG

The opportunity presented itself to join forces with Rich in 2003. Solstice was on indefinite hiatus, and he was proceeding with his new band or "project," dubbed Isen Torr. He advertised for one of his staunch supporters on the old Miskatonic Foundation online forum to take up the lead axe slot. I instantly jumped on it and fired off a reply to Rich. There was no hemming and hawing, no time to mull things over. Rich clearly realized I could get the job done with ease. It took a while, but I eventually received a CD-R containing rough demos of the two epic tunes we'd be recording. Rich used a drum machine to accompany his guitar. There was no bass. In typical Solstice-fashion, Rich was tuned down to B. The same tuning used by such metal bands as Anacrusis, Carcass, Entombed and At the Gates. I'd rarely gone lower than C# to play along to some old Sabbath tracks, but I got my '80 B.C. Rico Mockingbird a setup in B, slapping some 12 gauge strings on with a wound G. We'd messed around slightly in B in Artisan, because bassist Mike Bear digs 7-string guitars. I bucked the 7-string approach, though Ana Greco laid down some extreme lows courtesy of a 6-string in B on Artisan's "The Stain of Life." Because my ear wasn't very used to B, I had Rich map out the tunes some. Even more self-taught than I am, Rich resorted to pluging into his chromatic tuner to figure out the root notes of some of the chords. It wasn't necessarily a bad thing. Rich is a unique player with a keen ear. Sometimes I feel its better to trust one's ears and gut rather than go by the book. It can be limiting to rely too much on theory, and breaking the "rules" can yield interesting results.




Me and the Mockingbird in Korea Town, L.A.
Falcon's house demolishing kegger, March 2004

The two Isen Torr tracks were not a drastic departure from Solstice, although I caught a vintage vibe in the tunes which brought to mind the raw and eccentric NWOBHM nuances of Angel Witch, DiAnno era-Maiden, Bleak House, Aragorn, Midnight Flyer and JJ's Powerhouse. I ripped the two demo tracks onto my computer at home and fixed a tiny spot where the audio clipped and farted out completely. Then I fired up my old 10" Boogie Subway Rocket practice amp and plugged the preamp out into my soundcard input. This was pre-USB interface for me, but I had no time latency issues with the shareware multi-track recording software I used in the early 2000s to lay down a solo for "Mighty and Superior." It was no-frills beyond a dash of reverb applied in mix-down. I uploaded a clip of the solo section to my Falcon website server and emailed the link to Rich so he could download. He was suitably impressed. I've search low and high for the demo with overdubbed solo, but it appears to have been lost. I'm pretty good about backing up files on CD-R and DVD-R, but this one seems to have escaped my grasp.

Studio sessions for Isen Torr's Mighty and Superior EP were slated for July '03 in Lübeck, Germany. It was a busy spring and summer for me. I was rehearsing a few times a week with Artisan, not to mention playing some Arti gigs. Aside from sparse mixing sessions for the Artisan demo/EP, I was also entrenched in getting Falcon off the ground. Falcon, as many already know, is my baby, with plenty of input and assistance from Cirith Ungol mastermind and multi-instrumentalist Greg Lindstrom. In between my main music ventures, I concentrated on practicing "Mighty and Superior" and "The Theomachist" at home. I did my homework so I'd be prepared.

Artisan unfortunately became less of a priority than it was when I formed the band with Mike Bear and Ana Greco in 2000. Hyperspeed technical metal with growled vocals just wasn't as much of a turn-on for me anymore. In a way I was burning out on it. I stuck it out for quite a while, but broke it to Mike, Ana and new drummer Justin Bouchee a couple of months before heading to Germany to record with Isen Torr. Though they were bummed to see me go, the Arti-folks asked me to play a farewell gig in September '03. It was quite a send-off, jamming in front of a nearly-packed house at the Whisky in support of Cathedral, Samael and Strapping Young Lad. But I'm getting ahead of myself, as I often do.

I'd only met one of the other Isen Torr musos previously, but I knew the backgrounds of the rest. Vocalist Tony Taylor and I crossed paths when Tony's band Twisted Tower Dire supported Destiny's End and Iced Earth in June 1999 at Jaxx in Springfield, Virginia. Bassist Oliver "Zülle" Zühlke (rhymes with "hulk," which he resembles) and drummer Martin Zellmer hailed from German power metal band Ritual Steel, which also featured an old metal pen pal of mine, Sascha Maurer, on vocals. Zülle had recently left Ritual Steel, but Rich thought highly enough of him to sign him aboard on four-string duties.

My flight to Germany was tedious, but fairly uneventful. A delay caused an extended layover at London's Heathrow airport. I used the time wisely by snapping up Lemmy's autobiography, White Line Fever, devouring most of it pre-boarding call. Being that this was a post 9/11 flight and I hadn't flown with a guitar in a couple of years, I wasn't aware that locking my guitar case was a bad idea. Being protective and paranoid about my axes, I kept it sealed. It gave TSA free license to mangle the locks and latches for security inspection. When I picked it up at Hamburg one side latch was completely busted and the other barely closed. Only the lockless center latch held tight. I was worried, but I had other things to attend to first.

Rich met up with me at the airport, and we trekked by train to Itzehoe, where we'd be practicing in Ritual Steel's rehearsal bunker. Once at Itzehoe we met up with drummer Martin Zellmer and bassist Zülle at Martin's house. After a few pleasantries, we were off to our first marathon rehearsal session. As we approached the woodsy area where the bunker was located I spied the remains of a WWII plane. By this point I'd been awake for 24+ hours. To top it off, I barely had a bite to eat beyond the potato chips we munched in the bunker, but still managed to make it through our jam like a charm. Rich and I plugged into amps borrowed from Ritual Steel's dual axe team (Cheers Timo & Todde!). There was an Engl head and a Line 6 combo. The Line 6 kept overheating and sounded like crap at high volume, yet we still managed okay. Despite the lack of sleep, I played well. Rich only had to hash out a couple of the complicated guitar parts for me.

At "Z's" pad.

We adjourned to Martin's pad late that night for a quick dinner and to crash. The next day we rehearsed for several hours, nailing both songs on target. There were no toilet facilities at the bunker, so when Rich had to take a dump after dark he was forced to head out to the woods. Luckily Rich wears a bandana! It made for an excellent "shite rag," which he left for an unsuspecting passerby to stumble on in the bushes.

We probably had about 10 hours of Isen Torr rehearsal in all, and not a hell of a lot of sleep or food. It didn't matter to me, though, 'cause I was flyin' on the sheer power and love of metal. It's always a sure-fire power source and adrenaline rush! I felt pretty confident about the tunes, after all. Following a a brief rest, we raced down the autobahn towards Lübeck, where we'd be holing up in an apartment suite and recording at Studio Rosenquarz. Our recording engineers were Cold Embrace members Andreas Libera and Michael Hahn. They were assisted by Bully, the Mastiff mutt.

Bully!

Accommodation in Lübeck were excellent, although the security door lock downstairs was really stubborn. It took no time to settle into the apartment and walk the several blocks to the studio. Guitar-wise Rich and I were pleased, as Michael Hahn had a rare early '80s Marshall 100 watt head with a transistor preamp and tube power amp section, as well as a matching Marshall 4x12" cab. We didn't have to worry about a subpar amp or one that didn't fit Isen Torr's style. Martin set up the drums up, and our engineers connected me and Rich direct to the mixing board so we could track scratch (or "guide" as they say in Europe) guitars. Michael gave me and Rich a couple of bottles of Beck's Gold. I figured the brewskis would mellow me out, but I was kind of travel weary and muffed some transitions while scratching. No need to worry, as scratch tracks are thrown away.

Sir Richard M Walker at Rosenquarz Tonstudio

Rich tracked his rhythms in quick and painless fashion. I somehow managed to convince him not to use his Boss Metal Zone pedal on the rhythm tracks, a decision we're both very glad about in 2011! I was very adamant that we have a vintage metal-type tone: our axes plugged straight into the Marshall head cranked up to 10, dry and raw as a bone. I followed Rich with my rhythms. While I laid down my two rhythm tracks per song, I paused to ask Rich about whether he thought I was matching up okay with him. He responded by saying that it sounded killer and didn't matter too much if we did slightly different things as long as we were on time and in key. It added a cool dynamic to the recording. We finished two sets of rhythm tracks each. It was quick and relatively painless. The guitars and drums sounded nearly as solid as a Cyclopean monolith slab in a Lovecraft story. Well, nearly! Martin played a shonky fill at the 6:43 mark in "The Theomachist," but it sounded less suspicious when my solo followed his off-beats and we didn't have to resort to any digital editing.

 Bully, Rich and Oliver (no, not Hardy!)

Me, Zülle and Rich

We conceded after the drums and rhythm guitars were complete that it'd be an excellent idea to hit the local metal pub for some liquid libation to the Other Gods of Metal. Sure, celebration was in order, but we probably should've stopped to eat something too. We stayed at the bar until closing time. I bought rounds for my pals, considering Martin and his wife were kind enough  to let us crash at their pad and feed us. We had some comic relief when a haughty guitarist plopped himself down at our table and argued with me and Rich about what constitutes quality gear. I imbibed a bevy of weissbier in half liter steins. I wasn't horizontal or falling over, but I was pleasantly pissed. I wasn't alone, though. A drunk contingent of Isen Torr instrumentalists staggered over the cobblestones back to the apartment. I tried to down as much water as possible before passing out for the night. But it didn't do much good, apparently.

I woke up with the worst hangover of my life. Ugh! The room moved in swift circles like a Tilt-a-Whirl. Somehow I trudged along with Rich, Martin and Zülle down to Rosenquarz. The day was meant to be spent on lead guitar overdubs and Zülle's bass tracks. I had a solo each to track for "Mighty and Superior" and "The Theomachist." But my head was spinning way too much to attempt solos so early in the morning. I told Rich to go ahead with his lead parts and let Zülle track bass. Rich and I debated some. I was quick to agree with him about Americans being lightweights in the drinking department. American beer is, for the most part, watered-down panther piss. At the time I usually stuck to microbrews Stateside. My only retort was that I'd eaten just about fuck-all since my arrival, which didn't help this here Septic Tank Yank.

I trudged back to our suite. It seemed like it took ages for the sticky downstairs lock to work, but I finally made it upstairs. I lay back on my bed in nothing but my sunglasses and knickers, alcohol-laced sweat pouring out of my pores. I didn't get much sleep, but just kept pounding water. At some point while I was dozing the landlady came by the flat to check up on the rowdy band of heavy metal degenerates hiring her flat. She was pretty shocked to see me there in my skivvies and shades. She spoke mangled English at best, but I did assure her all was okay and that we weren't going to wreck her precious flat.

With a pounding head I returned to Rosenquarz around 7pm. All of Rich's overdubs were done and Zülle was wrapping up his bass. Fortunately I didn't leave Rich in the lurch due to my celebratory hangover. I plugged into my Boss GE-7 Graphic EQ pedal with the sliders nearly flat and the output boosted slightly to kick some gain in front of the Marshall head. I was still kinda shaky, but I banged out my solos speedily within a few takes. With those done I returned to the flat and slept like a log. Rich cooked up some frozen chips (fries to my fellow Yanks) that night, which I woke up just long enough to gobble down.

I got up before the crack of dawn on Studio Day 3, still slightly hungover more than 24 hours after my weissbier binge! The Germans and the British are on an entirely different plane of drinking to Americans. Not Australians though! Aussies are right up there with the best of 'em!! I wasn't to become an adopted Aussie for another 3-1/2 years, so I made sure to eat from there on out to soak up some of the booze I imbibed.

Andreas and Michael fiddled with a wee bit of digital editing when we got back to Rosequarz. Tony Taylor showed up after a couple of hours to do his vocals. Tony's young son was in tow. He hadn't rehearsed with us, but did a tad of homework. Rich gave him a few pointers, but again things were pretty painless. Rich, like me, is a voracious reader, and he peppered his lyrics with plenty of archaic and complex diction. Tony mispronounced some of Rich's lyrics in "Mighty and Superior," most notably "iniquitous" (which he rendered as "inquititious," not a word in any language I'm familiar with!). Come to think of it, Tony also thought Zülle's nickname was "Zoo-elle." I chortled over it, thinking it sounded like the nickname of Sortilege singer Christian Augustin ("Zouille"). Rich had a field day taking the piss out of Tony on that one. Once all of Tony's vocals were tracked Rich thought it'd be a good idea to have a "battle choir" chant "Fight! Fight! Fight!" in "The Theomachist" The four Isen Torr men stood in the main lounge of the studio in front of a condenser mic. Tony's young son even joined us. Laughs and a blast were had by all! Martin's wife owned a high-quality 35mm film camera and shot the official Isen Torr photos (many of which are reproduced here).

Sortilege, my fave French metallers. L-R:  Didier Dem, Christian "Zouille" Augustin
and Stephane Dumont

"Fight, fight, fight!!"

Tony had gig committments with Twisted Tower Dire. They were slated to play the Metal Bash fest, so he had to get the hell outta Dodge quick and rejoin his TTD brethren. Meanwhile, we'd started mixing with Andreas and Michael. Though we did record on a computer hard disk, there was only a minimum of digital editing. Everybody played their instruments well, and there were only a couple of spots that were slightly cleaned up. We didn't piece things together in the disjointed fashion some modern bands do. Andreas and Michael did an admirable job, but Rich wasn't completely satisfied with their mix. I did take the Rosenquarz master CD-R home with me, but it wasn't meant to be the final mix. Rich resolved to take the multi-track files to his friends in England to remix.

Have you seen this international terrorist? Rich in our apartment at Lübeck

Aside from my huge hangover and Rich's bandana, we enjoyed our share of goofiness. I snapped a photo of freshly showered Rich in terrorist guise, a towel wrapped around his bespectacled head. Another piss-take (pun intended!) was shot in the loo. At one point while we were sitting around the studio lounge Rich and I overheard Michael Hahn exclaim "Dicke titten!" I waggled my eyebrows at Rich. In a great deadpan, Rich asked our host, "Michael... Did you just say that you had a tit-wank last night?" Well... not quite, but he was close. The literal translation is "big breasts."

Taking the piss out of Rich's toilet humor.

To commemorate the completion of Mighty & Superior, our next stop in Lübeck was to witness one of my biggest music heroes, Scott "Wino" Weinrich rockin' out live with his then band, The Hidden Hand. There weren't more than about 25 people at the club, so it was an intimate show. Despite the low attendance, Wino and company destroyed the place. Not one to hide after a performance, Wino was spotted outside the venue after the gig.

Our next stop was the Metal Bash festival, sort of the anti-climax of my voyage. There was a beef between Rich and the festival organizer about giving our big group of people a break on our admission. Our ranks had swelled to include friends Herman and Helge Pahl and Andrea Schmidt. They brought a mini-bus stocked floorboard to ceiling with cans of warm beer. I could barely down any of the sun-heated brew. We eventually entered the festival grounds, minus some cash, and plenty of cold beer and sausages were consumed. Aside from Twisted Tower Dire, we were really unimpressed with most of the festival acts. Pleasantly pissed again, Rich and I watched Goddess of Desire's salacious set. We concurred that they were sort of a second-rate Venom, albeit with a live strip show. In the wee hours of the morning we dozed off briefly in Zülle's car.

Rich and I spent the last day of our German adventure at Herman and Andrea's pad recuperating from the festival. Again, we hardly ate. We walked into town and had a greasy McDonald's breakfast. Rich and I rambled on about our early musical escapades. His as a crust punk and grindcore kiddie and mine as a rail thin punk-ass death metaller. Both wishing we'd scarfed more junk food, Rich and I continued to amuse ourselves over copious amounts of coffee on our German friends' patio. We spent hours trying to outdo one another's ghastly names for "rapcore" bands. My personal fave was "Stool Sample." Rich's would infuriate to many people, but suffice it to say it was "Cyber N_____." I'd say about 99% of Americans don't get the extremely dark British and Aussie sense of humor. Some find it offensive. I laughed my arse off at the band name Rich concocted. At the same time it's not something I'd joke about in front of a couple of musicians I really respect. Namely Iron Man's Al Morris or Revelation/Against Nature bassist Bert Hall. Poor taste, but funny at the time. Rich, you crack me up!

On the way back to La La Land, the Hamburg baggage screening fräulein was puzzled by my Vox wah-wah pedal. She didn't want to let me through to the gate with it.


"You know, like Scorpions? Jimi Hendrix? Wacka wack wacka!"


Finally she understood. I thought better of repeating Michael Hahn's old exclamation, "Dicke titten!"

My flight home could have been better, but I made it in one piece. My already trashed guitar case locks were completely buggered by the time I reached L.A. It's clear my Mockingbird fell out of its case at some point. Aside from a small bump on the back of the neck I didn't think there was any damage. Wrong! Within a couple of months I realized that TSA's negligent spill out of the case included probs with headstock and neck/fingerboard. A bent tuning machine head and a section of the fingerboard near the first fret separating from the neck. Fortunately for me my top-notch luthier pal, Ed Laing, repaired TSA's fuckups perfectly. Knock on (touch if you're Aussie) maple and mahogany, the Mockingbird is still alive and sounds/plays better than ever.

Rich oversaw a remix in the UK, which I liked for the most part. I thought my two solos weren't as loud as they were when Andreas and Michael initial rough mix. For instance, you can barely hear the section of my "Mighty and Superior" solo near the 5:10 mark where I utilized a technique  some shredders refer to as "auto-flange." That is to say: trilling two notes and running my pick hand lightly down the fingerboard to create harmonics. It wasn't the end of the world, but I'd have remedied that if I'd been present and involved more. The project was Rich's baby, so I wasn't bent out of shape about it. Listeners never have to worry about hearing my leadwork in Falcon for a good reason! Although Rich is very quick to point out he's not a lead guitarist (very 'eavy, very 'umble) about his abilities, I personally thought he did an admirable job of playing some tastefully placed melody-infused lead parts, all of which are very discernible as being the handiwork of Mr Walker. Just listen to the intro to "Mighty and Superior" for a shining example!


The original release was on Andrea Schmidt's label, Metal Supremacy, in February 2004. A vinyl 10" EP limited to 333 black vinyl and 333 picture discs. For a grand total of 666 evil slabs of wax. Very few people have heard the rough mix, which is why I'm posting MP3s here. Curious folks will now be able to hear my lead work louder than in the final mix.




Metal Supremacy 10" cover

Metal Supremacy picture disc front

Metal Supremacy picture disc back

Originally Rich envisioned Isen Torr as a band that would release three epic vinyl-only EPs and eventually play a gig at a massive festival in Germany. Things didn't exactly go as planned. He vowed not to release an Isen Torr CD until all three EPs were out on vinyl. Sometimes one's intentions go out the window because the world is not a very stable place. First drummer Martin Zellmer went off the rails. Feel free to ask Rich for the specific gory details. I'm sure he'll delight in telling you the tale. Then Tony Taylor seemed to be following suit. The TTD guys had issues with Tony and wound up finding a new singer. Tony went MIA for a while and resurfaced in Florida. Zülle too went MIA. Rich and I haven't heard from him in several years. At one point Rich thought about bringing former Lord Weird Slough Feg drummer Greg Haa into the fold. Greg went AWOL from Slough Feg months before it was clear that Isen Torr's second EP may not happen in the foreseeable future. I wasn't starved for music by any means. I was more than happy and busy with Falcon.

The late Tony Taylor in between vocal takes with Zülle 

Isen Torr sans "Z"

By the time I relocated to Australia in late 2006 Rich and I were the only two Isen Torr members who weren't MIA. The Curse of the ye olde Ivory Tower was in full effect. Mighty & Superior was reissued in 2008 on CD. Not exactly what Rich intended. We musicians were meant to be paid in copies for the reissue, both CD and vinyl from the American label releasing it. I received my CDs from Mr. Label Guy. That sort of happened almost semi-professionally. However, Mr. Record Label wouldn't send them to Australia, instead he shipped to my parents in the States. I should've been worried by that arrangement. Was it asking too much to have the discs sent sans jewel-cases Down Unda? Not really! After all, no cash was changing hands. Next up Mr. Record Label informed me he was "sold out" of the vinyl and couldn't send me, a band member, copies until a second pressing was made at some undetermined future date. Now, I don't know about you, but I think that is just the sort of bad business typified by disreputable labels. I was promised vinyl shortly, but shortly stretched into 1-1/2 years. I had to publicly call Mr. Record Label out on Rich's Miskatonic Foundation Forum about his bad biz practices before I ever received any of those Big Ten-Inch Records. That wasn't Rich's fault. And it's a genuine shame, because Andrea Schmidt did a tremendous and above-board job on the Metal Supremacy first pressing.

Isen Torr - Mighty and Superior CD cover (2009)

The Curse struck again in 2009. We received news that Tony Taylor died in a motorcycle accident. Whether Isen Torr will record again is a question I can't presently answer. Rich once mentioned the possibility of me tracking my half of the guitars on my home turf in Sydney if a second EP materializes. I'm cool with that. The challenges which Rich faces go way beyond the guitars, though. We now lack a bassist, drummer and vocalist.


Right click and "save as" to download the MP3s below.


1. "The Theomachist"
2. "Mighty and Superior"

FreeThought Interview RE: Chuck Schuldiner

On April 16th I was interviewed by Freethought Radio's Alex Fidel about Chuck Schuldiner, Death and Control Denied. We talked about my Metal Maniacs article ("Precious Memories of Chuck Schuldiner"), the state of heavy metal journalism (the demise of print mags) and the liner notes I recently wrote to the forthcoming deluxe reissue of Death's Individual Thought Patterns. You can download the entire FreeThought episode MP3 by clicking here. Past guests on FreeThought have included former Death manager and current President of Perseverance Holdings, Eric Greif (he overseas Chuck's intellectual property), Death/Control Denied drummer and all-around funny dude Richard Christy and Chuck's nephew, Chris Steele. Apologies in advance for all the "ums" and overall slowness of speech. The interview was done while I was fighting a head cold early on a Saturday morning. It was also before my daily dose of caffeine took effect.   

 

Me sporting an ITP shirt on stage with Destiny's End in Houston, TX, March '98

Pentagram & Bedemon - Unholy Duo

My feature on Pentagram and Bedemon originally appeared in the November 2001 issue of Metal Maniacs. In lieu of recent Penta-mania, I've decided to scan and share. Many missed the opportunity to read it the first time around. Variant versions, some including lengthy Q&A interviews with drummer/guitarist/songwriter Geof O'Keefe, guitarist Randy Palmer (R.I.P.) and Bedemon bassist/guitarist Mike Matthews, appeared in Snakepit, Snap Pop! and Psychedelic. I later interviewed axeman Vincent McAllister (R.I.P.) and bassist Greg Mayne between 2004 and '06, although those have yet to be published. Rest assured, they'll see the light of day soon. As for Penta-mania, I'll address that in an entry on its own later.

In some variations of this piece I referred to the lyrics to the song "Virgin Death" (aka "Pentagram"). Back in the days (daze!) there were no printed lyrics available, so I misheard some words. The gist of that first verse is: "Send me home to bust my back / Strap you to your torture rack / Out all night you sleep all day / When we talk I've got no say / There's five black points all chalked up for you / Got five of my own, I hope they'll come through / I'm gonna take you to your virgin death--you're gonna get it." When the song was called "Pentagram" the last line was "My life's a Pentagram!"

Enjoy and please share with your heavy rock 'n' metal brothers and sisters! At the same time, this piece is copyrighted material, and I must remind you not to plagiarize. Don't reproduce for profit without obtaining my permission first and acknowledging the source.

Text © Copyright 2001 By Perry Grayson

Photos as credited below.

Photos courtesy of Randy Palmer and Mike Matthews above.

Photos on pgs. 3-6 by Cameron Davidson

Pale Divine - Righteousness of Passage

Pale Divine - Crimson Tears Liner Notes

“Righteousness of Passage”

By Perry Grayson

© Copyright 2010 By Perry Grayson

[These liners originally appeared in an improperly formatted version on the CD reissue of the Pale Divine demo Crimson Tears. Paragraphing and formatting are correct here.]

1997 was a whirlwind year for me musically. At 22 I was poised to become part of the dual-axe attack in the prog/power metal outfit Destiny’s End. But ’97 packed a fiercer wallop all the more because it was the first time I heard Glen Mills, Pennsylvania doom metal masters Pale Divine. That first taste nailed me hook, line and sinker. Slumbering stock sound effects ushered in the opening blasts of “Morphia” on a plain cassette with a blue computer print-out cover. It bore merely the band logo and a silhouetted face. This was the tape that became the fabled Crimson Tears demo several months later. “Crimson Tears” kicked in, and the one-two punch was complete. Warm, crunchy guitar running the gamut from Glenn Tipton-ish stabs to Iommi-like dirges. Power-packed vocals with gravel, grit and a commanding disposition. Hey, a power trio even! I didn’t know it at the time, but Pale Divine axe-slinger/singer Greg Diener was still a teenager. Those guitar and vocal lines impressed me as the work of some seventies shaman risen from the dead. Regardless of his youth, Diener’s work was that of a confident natural. I was instantly entranced. The drums were swinging and meaty, a welcome departure from the clickety-click of modern metal—no over-reliance on triggers. Enter Darin McCloskey, keeper of the keen lyrics and Brian Downey-esque beats. I was pleasantly pummelled by a modern day band who could groove in full bell-bottomed ’70s bombast on one hand and on the other slickly succor with modern day doom shadings. McCloskey and Diener: the Bruce Wayne and Dick Grayson of American doom metal!

I still remember recall where I was when Pale Divine’s tunes sank their teeth into me vividly—many beers and years later. Great catchy tunes have a tendency to freeze a space in time in my mind. Deft bands like Rush, Blue Cheer, Black Sabbath, Judas Priest, Uriah Heep, Cirith Ungol, Pentagram and the like have a tendency to do that. So does Pale Divine! I was up in Northern California visiting friend Rob Preston, the man responsible for introducing me to heaps of obscure and raging heavy rock ’n’ metal acts. Though Rob and I are both freaks for long forgotten gems, it was Rob who got his grubby paws on Pale Divine’s demo. He dubbed it for me on the rear of a cassette bearing a bootleg of a ’93 Pentagram live gig at the Paragon in Virginia. I practically wore that tape out on the drive back to L.A., mainly due to the joyous PD jams.

Rob Preston fired a note off to Darin McCloskey, mentioning me raving about his band. That planted the seed for an underground metal friendship that endures to this day. When the shrink-wrapped copy of Crimson Tears arrived in the mail a few months later I revelled in the dark and foreboding artwork, one part Weird Tales pulp mag cover and one part Sabbath Bloody Sabbath. Took time to digest the big thanks list, complete with Darin’s list of influential bands. The tunes themselves floored me on that initial listen. “Rites of Passage” begins with a sad clean-tone passage and some trippy wah-laden psychedelia. “Rise Above” is a driving track, exploring faster tempo territory. “Lord of Sorrow” is a crushing monolith of doom. The full-tilt boogie section in the middle of “Serpent’s Path” recalls early ZZ Top, complete with a very wicked guitar solo courtesy of Diener. McCloskey and bassist Jay Purnell lay down a foundation that will have any fan of heavy-ass rock stompin’.

Darin and I began chatting and emailing. No mere dunderheaded green globule on the drum throne, Darin struck me as a multi-talented musician on par with Rush’s Neil Peart or Heep’s Lee Kerslake. I’d always go on at length to him about how much I felt Pale Divine deserved some serious recognition.

Pale Divine's perennial duo, Greg Diener and Darin McCloskey

To me Crimson Tears was one of those metal demos that quakes the underground with its inherent quality. Perhaps the way Metallica’s No Life ’Til Leather, Death’s Mutilation or Cynic’s Reflections of a Dying World did to others in the past. Yet, there’s something more energetic, exciting, urgent and lasting about Crimson Tears that causes me to revisit it and rekindle the flame. The musicianship, songwriting, production and even recording quality have a certain luster and muster that makes Pale Divine’s head peek out above the wasteland of faceless metal acts.

When I managed to get my foot in the door at Metal Maniacs—thanks to associate editor Jeff Wagner—one of the first things I did was pen a “Fast Forward” piece on Pale Divine. Bear in mind my early stock in trade at Maniacs was “Rewind” articles on cult bands like Bang and Cirith Ungol. I was dying for Pale Divine to get some much-deserved recognition for their towering talent.

Little did I know when I first heard Crimson Tears that I’d hit Darin McCloskey up to drum for my ’70s heavy rock power trio Falcon. But Darin was the first dude who came to mind. All due to his display of rhythmic righteousness with Pale Divine! In 2005 Darin gave me the opportunity to play bass in his band, this juggernaut that blew me away first in ’97. Pale Divine is now in its second decade of existence and evolving with each release. Now they’re a quartet. Rehearsing and touring with Darin McCloskey and Greg Diener in ’05 was a pleasure, one of those rare situations where everything seemed to fit like a glove. In a parallel universe that three-piece Pale Divine lineup is still slithering down the serpent’s path to destinations unknown...

Pale Divine live at Doom Shall Rise III - Göpingen, Germany, April 2005
L-R: Perry Grayson, Darin McCloskey and Greg Diener

Destiny's End Pre-Production Demos - 1999

Destiny's End Pre-Production Demos - 1999 to early 2000



Destiny's End Metal Blade Germany promo glossy - photo by Alex Solca



Now for the second batch of Destiny's End pre-production demos! The pre-production tapes from Breathe Deep the Dark were posted earlier on the blog here: http://unvanquishablefalcon.blogspot.com/2010/12/destinys-end-pre-production-demos-1997.html. The same methods were used to cut these demos, mostly from 1999. A couple of Shure mics placed in front of the band playing live fed into Dan's old mixing console and out into a cassette deck. We usually only did one or two takes of a song. When the basic tracks were on tape they occupied two tracks. Dan and I then stayed after rehearsal or visited the jam room separate from Nardo and Brian to track our leads on the two remaining tracks using Dan's Tascam 4-track unit. Because we got down to the wire on a couple of tunes, we played some of our solos live instead of overdubbing to save time.


A recap from the Transition blog entry:
In hindsight, the fact that James lived in Houston–while the four DE instrumentalists called L.A. home–kept us together longer than we would have if we’d all been in the same locale. Early on I was kinda disappointed that our singer resided over a thousand miles away, but after a while it worked about for the best. James spent most of his time in Houston and sang Dio and Sabbath covers with some hired guns, meanwhile we had our friend Mike Grant come down to rehearsals and sing for us so that we weren’t just practicing instrumentally. (It got to the point where I felt like Mike was part of our band!) There was terrible tension at the close of our otherwise successful May-June 1999 U.S. tour with Iced Earth and Nevermore. Coming off the road was a hazy nightmare. Dan DeLucie didn’t witness the bad juju. He chose to spend a few days in NY with his family and fly back to L.A. The rented tour van carrying Brian, Nardo, James and I lumbered through Houston for a couple of days, where James got busted in a drug-related arrest. An attempt was made to steal the tour van containing all our equipment. It resulted in a shattered window. The window was the least of our trouble, but it sure was symbolic. We were worried that we wouldn’t make it out to Europe for Wacken and the post-festival tour in August ’99. We feared our singer might be serving a jail sentence. Though Nardo had his share of drug trouble in the early days of DE, I think losing his license and car taught him a bit of a lesson. Nardo’s pot bust at Jaxx in Virginia on the tour was a almost a walk in the park by comparison to James’ whole Houston mess.


When I explained the Houston horror to Dan in SoCal, he said, “I wish you hadn’t told me that.” But somehow Europe went ahead. Post-Euro tour, the four L.A. DE dudes hunkered down to work on album no. 2. We didn’t have to see James. Out of sight, out of mind. We already had a few tunes in the can, “Transition” (written by Dan), “The Legend” (a Dan/Perry/Nardo co-write, with lyrics by James) and my “First You Dream, Then You Die.”


We had no gigs booked after our Euro trek in August '99. No shows until James arranged a one-off November date in Phoenix, AZ on a weekday at the Mason Jar. I didn't have to see James for 3 months. He came out to L.A. overdub his vocals on our demos and do the AZ gig. By a funny coincidence it was with my fellow metal journalist Micha Kite's prog/power metal outfit Born of Fire. It was rough getting to AZ. We had no trailer for our gear and I was sure our tools of the trade would get rained on in the back of Dan's pickup. A small tarp did little to protect the stuff. We couldn't lock it up, and I was freaked something would get stolen. Bumbling maneuvers of a pro band, wouldn't you say? There weren't more than approximately 5 paid attendees aside from the 3 bands. That's being generous! Anticlimactic and bumming to the max. To top it off, we played pretty sloppy. James whizzed back to Houston. We didn't see him again until a couple of months later. Again, out of sight, out of mind. We could concentrate on the last remaining tunes for Transition and rehearsing instrumentally instead of worrying overly much about inner band woes. But those woes took center stage during the Transition sessions themselves.

As always, right click (and "save as") on the links below to download the MP3s.
 1. First You Dream, Then You Die (Lyrics/Music by Perry Grayson)
"First You Dream" was the first track we demoed for the second DE album. I wrote the lyrics and music to it as a tribute to one of my fave authors, Cornell Woolrich, and his bio-bibliographer Francis M. Nevins. The title itself is one Woolrich coined but never got around to using. Nevins dubbed the Woolrich biography First You Dream… two decades after the author’s death. It’s an existential set of lyrics encapsulating the bleak beliefs and themes found in all of Woolrich’s gritty and grim crime tales. Part of the tune is in an odd key, and I chucked in some jazzy octave chords and melodies for good measure. Dixieland it ain’t, but I wanted to do something different. My second fave guitar solo is on this track. I remember rehearsing "First You Dream" at an hourly studio in Houston with Nardo, Brian and James a coupla days before Dan showed up to begin the tour with Nevermore and Iced Earth. We didn't get to play it live until just before we recorded Transition.


2. Transition (Lyrics/Music by Dan DeLucie)
We finished this demo second. "Transition" became the title track of DE album No. 2. Dan’s science fiction tune about humans being overthrown by self-aware computers and machines with an intro from Colossus – The Forbin Project. We started playing this live nearly every date on tour in ’99. Brian’s ever-present double-kicks set a frantic pace for the rest of the Transition album numbers.


3. A Choice of Graves (Lyrics by Perry Grayson & James Rivera/Music by Perry Grayson)
My tune about the perils of drug addiction. Originally I called this tune "Solar Winds," with lyrics adapted from a poem I wrote in 1993 called "Rush of the Solar Winds." Because we already had too much clean-tone guitar, I canned the spooky clean intro. Lyrically, Dan and Brian objected to my omnipresent theme of individuality. I whapped out a new set of lyrics and under a new title "Requiem," loosely based on my old guitarist friend Jesse Wenick's peripherally drug-related death. The line "you had a choice of paths to walk, a choice of graves to dig" gave way to the less generic title. James changed some of my lyrics around (he tried to coerce me into "Drowning in Shame") and added a few lines of his own. It was a lot like having Pentagram’s Bobby Liebling singing my anti-smack lyrics on the Falcon tune “On the Slab.” We played this live at our last gig at the Garage in Silverlake, CA, on John Bush's Rockhouse night.


4. A Passing Phase (Lyrics/Music by Dan DeLucie)
Another DeLucie-penned tune with a very neo-classical intro. Lyrically it’s pretty grand in its cosmic scale. Dan was getting way into his SF, and I was going more human in the lyric department it seems.


5. Vanished (Lyrics/Music by Perry Grayson)
An epic and very personal track I brought to DE. Another power ballad you say?! How could it be? Dan had "Storm Clouds" around the same time I introduced this one to the guys in L.A. I originally wrote it on a guitar tuned to C#. I had the axe tuned low for doom metal jamming with my old metal bro Aric Villareal. I’d been listening to a lot of Solitude Aeturnus and had fallen in love with the post-psychedelic L.A. band Red Temple Spirits on the road in May ’99 (many thanks to friend Natalie Vlahovic). On one hand I was thinking demented gothic, and on another there was a very commercial AORish tinge like Journey or Boston. The third alien hand was progressive, thanks to all the wacky arpeggios and chord inversions. The sort of stuff Alex Lifeson did/does in Rush. In a nutshell, this one is about kids having to live up to the expectations of their parents and other authority figures. I borrowed some horror imagery from H.P. Lovecraft’s “The Outsider” too. My favorite solo of the Transition album is on this song. I played slow and with a lot of emotion. Dan’s closing harmonized solo is melodic Neal Schon-like gold. I even told James to think Steve Perry all the way on the outro! Nardo’s tasty bass fills stand out in a big way. The demo version of “Vanished” bears my “graveyard” chords, instead of the more melodic offerings on the finished product. Also, this demo lacks the 12-string acoustic and eletric guitars which I added to the album version.


6. From Dust to Life (Lyrics/Music by Dan DeLucie)
A pumping power metaller about the Big Bang theory by Mr. DeLucie.


7. The Suffering (Lyrics by Perry Grayson, Dan Delucie, James Rivera & Nardo Andi, Music by Nardo Andi, Perry Grayson & Dan DeLucie)
This started as a couple of acoustic parts bassist Nardo brought to the table—which wound up in the bridge. For the first couple of weeks of our U.S. tour we had Nardo’s battered Jasmine acoustic with us, and that gave us something to work on when we had time off. Dan and I added the bulk of the heavy riffs and refined the the mellow bridge. Brian, as usual, helped arrange cohesively. In keeping with Nardo’s Middle Eastern vibe—he’s from Iran—I slapped a wahed-out melody similar to the one I wrote for “Idle City/The Fortress Unvanquishable” in the intro.  This one is a cautionary tale about the endless vicious cycle of war and absolute political power corrupting absolutely. The lyrics were a collaboration between me, Dan, James, with a few ideas from Nardo (“Throw in Babylon!”). There is no 12-string guitar on the demo version, but I played tons of 12-string electric on the album version.

8. Separate Strains (Lyrics by Dan DeLucie & Perry Grayson/Music by Dan DeLucie) 
“Separate Strains” was based on the Walter M. Miller Jr. science fiction story “The Ties That Bind," about an Earth colony isolated from their homeworld for many generations, only to be visited by their distant brethren who have turned into violent warmongers. I gave Dan the paperback anthology containing the Miller yarn, A Sea of Space edited by William F. Nolan, for his b-day. He dug the story and asked me to contribute some words to what he started. So, "Separate Strains" is a forgotten DE gem. I really dug the Fates Warning-like intro riff, and was head over heels in love with the old school thrash of the first bridge. Ordinarily Dan and I would overdub our guitar solos, but we played our improvised leads here live, straight to tape. There's a bitchin' harmonized Dan/Perry double lead. We had three in "Clutching at Straws" on Breathe Deep the Dark. I always had a blast coordinating the harmonies with Dan. After nearly 3 years of playing together it came together painlessly. What wasn't painless? I was on the edge of train-wrecking my arpeggios leading from the double lead into the main riffs. It came out choppier than I intended. If we'd been recording an album I would've resorted to a punch-in. Another tune, my “Rise and Defy,” was demoed instrumentally. In a rush, Dan sent the original cassette to James in Houston without making a backup copy. "Rise and Defy" was lost. I took DE's music very seriously and handled our demo tapes with a lot of caution. I expected Dan to just send James a copy, otherwise I never would've let him take the cassette home from the studio. A fan gave James the Combat first pressing LP of Helstar's Burning Star while we were on tour, which he subsequently allowed to get thrashed to pieces. Apparently, neither that LP or the demo of "Rise and Defy" were very important.


How 'bout some lyrics, folks?




Separate Strains
Lyrics by Dan DeLucie and Perry Grayson

We are not what they've become and they're not what we are
A thousand generations past, ancient thoughts extinct
Nature has learned to survive despite the threat of man
The poison that we introduce corrupts their fragile minds

Minds so pure and hunger all but gone
Cities fall into the wild

Chorus:
Tranquillity is lost
Utopia is dead
Our presence is our doom
Our quest will never end

Eager now to be enslaved, they welcome the war plague
Fear no longer seems ingrained, a never ending youth
Patterns from our ancestral times are waiting to emerge
Dormant thoughts are not extinct we infiltrate their world

Worlds apart, through centuries return
Distant brothers meet again
Unconscious inheritance of culture
Questions plaguing minds

Disruption within the system
Stimulate the lines that still exist
The sword at home in their hands after many years
Words have been erased but the message is still clear

Nature buried deep inside, instincts now arise
True savagery will now take hold, regain the taste for blood
Blood diverged into separate streams
Of the two, which has regressed?

9. The Legend
(Lyrics by James Rivera/Music by Perry Grayson, Nardo Andi & Dan DeLucie)
A DE team effort between me, Dan and Nardo for the music. I wrote nearly half of "The Legend," including the chorus and the dual guitar harmony. Dan, Nardo and I are very big fans of Mercyful Fate and King Diamond, so the intro and verses were a tip of the hat to metal masters Kim Petersen, Hank Sherman and Michael Denner. James threw some lyrics over it which I’ll leave you to discuss amongst yourselves. Dan whipped out an Adrian Smith-like lead with a lot of feeling in this one.


A sidenote: There is no DE demo of "Storm Clouds." Dan wrote the music to "Storm Clouds" for Crescent Shield, then a side-project he was forging with vocalist pal Mike Grant. Crescent Shield is now Dan’s main thing. Anyhow, James heard the demo and loved it so much that it received the full DE treatment instead. It became our big power ballad, complete with Dan’s beautiful acoustic work and my Maiden-like arpeggios during the chorus. Dan joked that it’s the only DE song about “bitches.” If you're interested, maybe you can pester Mr. DeLucie to make the Crescent Shield demo available.

Under a Gypsy Wizard's Spell (Repost from Peregrine's Prattle)

[This entry was original published on my other blog, Peregrine's Prattle on the 29th of October, 2009. It's more than worthy of republishing here!]

When you’re a serious musician—touring and recording—and the roaring rollercoaster is in full swing it’s pretty hard to find the time amidst the chaos to keep a journal. You might want to, but it just doesn’t happen. That’s how it was for me in most of my travels. All kinds of exciting things are occurring around you. To stop and write about them might kill the vibe and take you away from the wild, woolly and/or wacky scene. Case in point being the recording of the second Falcon album, Die Wontcha, back in October 2006. I just barely scratched the surface in a long-ass interview with Chris Barnes (not the Cookie Monster growler) of Hellridemusic.com. Hell, a blow-by-blow account of the Destiny’s End tour with Nevermore and Iced Earth back in 1999 would’ve been interesting too. No dice. I was far too consumed by the coaster to budge. I’m not into name dropping and all that fake nonsense, but think it’s not a bad idea to set memories down for future retread—or to share with like-minded folks who are curious about the rock ’n’ roll circus. Likewise, I wanted to take the time out to recall the late, great Dickie Peterson, bassist and gravel-throated vocalist extraordinaire!

I like to be prepared when I cut an album. I did a lot of pre-production in L.A. before me and Greg Lindstrom flew to Pennsylvania for a few days to rehearse with drummer Darin McCloskey—followed by recording at Chris “Kozwald” Kozlowski’s Polar Bear Lair in Middletown, Maryland. We all did our share of homework so we’d be ready. I threw vocals on top of guitar-only rough demos on my 8-track and practiced the riffage whenever possible. Those are things you can be ready for and plan out. I left 90 some-odd percent of my guitar solos for on-the-spot improv, ’cause I didn’t want to kill the spontaneity. Anyhow, some things you can plan out—trip itineraries or what-have-you—some things you can’t.



Falcon breaks from rehearsal in Glen Mills, PA



Falcon riffin' and rollin' at the Polar Bear Lair, Oct. '06 - Photo by Cameron Davidson



If someone had told me when I first started playing guitar that someday I’d record an album at the same studio as Blue Cheer and room and hang out with my heroes for about a week I’d have said, “Get the fuck outta here!” That’s not something you can predict. But it happened nonetheless. If the job of sound engineering for Blue Cheer live and in the studio fell in Chris Kozlowski’s lap, the same goes for my meeting up with the loudest band in the known universe. I can’t say I believe in fate, but I think sometimes you can get slight push towards some pretty weird coincidences. There’s a wheel of whirling personalities in your life, and sometimes you make some unexpected connections. I have Darin McCloskey to thank for introducing me to Chris Kozlowski, the perfect dude to engineer Falcon. And subsequently “Kozwald” for my meeting Blue Cheer.

Falcon & Pale Divine drummer Darin McCloskey - Photo by Cameron Davidson

I was probably about 12 when I first heard Blue Cheer. Before I had the dough to plunk down on tapes or vinyl—pinched off my dad’s bureau when he wasn’t looking or later worked for—I had my choice of a few L.A. radio stations: KLOS, KMET or KNAC. I could barely pull in KNAC, and I spent hours jerry-rigging a jumble of wires and booster contraptions to boost the signal enough to hear bands like Uriah Heep, Black Sabbath, Blue Oyster Cult, Deep Purple and the like. Blue Cheer’s rendition of Eddie Cochran’s “Summertime Blues” came over the airwaves one weekend morning. I knew the original. It might’ve even been almost passable to my incredibly un-hip dad if he caught me digging on Eddie Cochran. Blue Cheer was anything but acceptable though! Heavy rock ’n’ metal was my saviour from the overall dreary and depressing atmosphere of school and home. Hearing those loud, squealing blasts of Leigh Stephens’ Gibson SG though a Fuzz Face stompbox and a wall of Marshalls, the rumbling of Dickie Peterson’s P-Bass through an equally large mound of British valves—and his signature shriek—not to mention the cannon blast of Paul Whaley’s drums—transported me by time machine out of my dull existence into another era. I’m a nostalgic bastard, a sucker for bygone times when things were more human, real and analog. I may have veered off into more modern metal territory, but I always came back to Blue Cheer and their late 1960s era of dark, bluesy downer rock. I didn’t get my hands on a copies of Vincebus Eruptum and Outside Inside until a bit later, but that first taste of the Cheer had me frantically combing record stores.

Fast forward to October 2006. It’s the day after Falcon finished recording basic tracks (rhythm guitar, bass and drums) for Die Wontcha. Greg Lindstrom wrapped up his few guitar solos and keyboard overdubs and had to fly home early, leaving me to finish off the rest of my guitar tracks and vocals by myself. While Darin would drop in on the first day of mixing, it was my task to complete Die Wontcha. Not that I was daunted. Hell no! More like elated! Greg and Darin had already contributed their parts to make sure Die Wontcha had a bedrock-solid backbone. We collectively made it work without over-thinking anything. In one and a half days the basic tracks were “in the can.” Record timing for us or anybody else. I was stoked. I’d only have a wider grin on my face because of what was to follow.

 L: Me and the '76 Lester Deluxe, R: Greg Lindstrom thumpin' his Jazz Bass

Falcon in the Polar Bear Lair control room with Chris Kozlowski at the helm - 3 photos above by Cameron Davidson

Andrew “Duck” MacDonald (guitar) was the first member of Blue Cheer to show up at the Polar Bear Lair. He arrived while I was knee-deep in solo overdubs. We were introduced during one of my breaks, but he spent most of his time getting settled in and chilling out downstairs. Upstairs in the attic—the control room—I programmed punch-in points on the tape remote control and laid down leads from the gut over the top of raw riffs. After a long day of soloing it was time to give the cows on the dairy farm next door a respite from the raucous reckoning of massive tube amps. A blaring pair of Orange 4x12” cabs is a beautiful thing, but not exactly what you’d expect next to a pasture.



Givin' the Laney Supergroup 60 a pat on the 'ead outside the Slave's Quarters



While I was soloing, Chris got some real-world work and rest done. Chris joined me and Duck for some chatter in the out-building we use for recording basic tracks. A few beers in the “Slaves’ Quarters” became several. It goes without saying that Chris Kozlowski is a nut for beer paraphernalia. Signs, steins, trays, bottles, glasses and all sorts of curios riddle the inside and outside of the Polar Bear Lair. After an hour or two of banter Chris bailed. Duck and I blabbed on over a few more beers, long after midnight. Even though we’d just met that day, there was an instant camaraderie between me and Duck. Two veterans of the heavy metal psychic wars trading trench tales. Of course Duck has a few years on me, and I totally respected that fact. I was a keen listener.

“So, that was you belting out those tasty licks before, eh?” Duck asked.

“Yup, thanks, man.”

“I can tell you dig Leslie West a lot,” he said.

“Yeah, big fan of Mountain and Leslie. Great phat tone and phrasing. I interviewed him once, but he wasn’t very personable. Worst interview ever, actually.”

“Don’t get me wrong, great player, but I’m not surprised,” Duck replied. “He was kind of a real dick to us. Sucker punched Dickie backstage when we gigged with him. I tell him how to fix his hemorrhoids, and he turns around and belts my bassist!”

“Ugh, I’m  really not impressed.”

Duck was talking about the events that led up to his joining Blue Cheer, and he mentioned “I played on the Combat Records ‘all-star’ metal album Thrasher, and that’s when I met Dickie Peterson.”

“Totally!” I replied. “You probably met the singer from my old band Destiny’s End, James Rivera. He sang ‘She Likes It Rough’ on Thrasher.”

That led us down the path of talking about surviving the music industry—dealing with band members on hardcore drugs. After all, Duck has nearly two decades more under his belt more than I do. Duck remarked that he was handling most of Blue Cheer’s business affairs.

“Whaley’s [Paul Whaley, drums] coming in tomorrow,” Duck added. “Fresh outta rehab. Dickie, he’s been clean a long time. He’ll be here in a coupla days.”

“Yeah, I kinda heard,” I said. Chris and pal Dave Szulkin, Bloodfarmers guitarist, has introduced me to Paul Whaley at the Blue Cheer gig at the Galaxy Theater in Costa Mesa a few months before.

When I said goodbye to Chris and crew in July 2006, I had no idea I’d be seeing the Blue Cheer guys again come October. They were traveling in the same size van as I had toured in with Destiny’s End while on the road with Iced Earth and Nevermore back in May/June 1999. This legendary band had come a long way, but they had no delusions of grandeur. Their hearts were in the music, and they played wherever there were Blue Cheer fans rabid for the raw, loud and physical rock experience.

“Yeah, Dickie knows that story. He’s cleaned up a lot, and he’s humble ya know? He’s lived out of his car and been a school janitor in Germany.”

“Whoa,” I answered, taking it all in. I’m always fascinated how my fellow musicians, especially my heroes, stay afloat and survive in the big, bad mean music biz.

Duck didn’t have to travel more than a step to crash out for the night, while I crept through the cold, into the main Polar Bear residence, a house built in the 1870s. I was out like a light and up early.

The next day I began tracking vocals, and we were meant to pick up drummer Paul Whaley. As if things weren’t already simultaneously ragin’, it just so happens that Cactus was playing in nearby Springfield, Virginia, at Jaxx—where my old band Destiny’s End had played on tour with Iced Earth and Nevermore back in early June 1999. Cactus recorded a few killer LPs in the ’70s before parting ways, and I never thought I’d ever see them live. Their tour didn’t include the west coast, but lo and behold I managed to sneak the Virginia gig into the Die Wontcha sessions. Paul Whaley met us at Jaxx.

 Right away I could tell Paul was still pretty “switched on” and that to a certain extent “Kozwald” and the boys were going to have their hands full on the road. I knew they’d be in for their share of fun, but might face some frustration. That it’d be a challenge keeping Paul on the wagon following his recent trip to rehab. At the same time, I was just awestruck—surrounded by heavy rock legends and friends alike. We were joined immediately by my old pal Cameron Davidson (infamous for his early Pentagram photos), as well as Kelly Carmichael (guitar), J.D. Williams (vocals) and Adam Heinzman (bass) from Internal Void, one of my fave Maryland area bands of all-time. Marty Swaney, bassist of the Death Row-era lineup of Pentagram was even on hand. Cactus, despite having lost their original singer Rusty Day to a drug-deal gone bad, set the stage on fire that October night at Jaxx. I was dumbfounded and wore a wide grin long after the last notes flowed out of guitarist Jim McCarty’s Les Paul. A photo of me sharing a beer and a laugh with the Internal Void chaps is all the evidence you’ll need. I felt fortunate as hell to add Cactus to the long list of early ’70s bands I’ve witnessed on stage. That ain’t easy, ’cause, as you well know, “I’m a throwback, baby! Born too late!”





Adam Heinzman, me, J.D. Williams & Kelly Carmichael at Jaxx 

 

I continued vocal duties the next day, ODing on water and occasionally slathering some honey on a spoon to keep my throat in shape. I burned the candle and pushed myself to unleash the best performances possible. My voice and health didn’t suffer. Things were going better than simply according to plan. Dickie Peterson arrived then, making the Blue Cheer lineup complete at the Polar Bear Lair. Rather than getting down to business, the Cheer boys went out to stock up on food. We moved an extra bed into the living room for Dickie. My roommates were cool and hospitable, telling me there was tons of food for all.

I completed vocals and a last few overdubs—an ARP analog synth on the mellow bridge of “Falcon” and a Vibroslap on the same song. Chris had some tinkering to do with the board and some muting, so I took the opportunity to make some phone calls. Blue Cheer was rehearsing in the “Slave’s Quarters,” and you could hear them literally almost tearing the roof off the joint with their massive volume.

I rang up pals Scott Carlson and Dave James in L.A., holding up my cell phone to the door, exclaiming, “Man, check it out, Blue Cheer is rehearsing ‘Doctor Please!’”

I think Paul Whaley knew what I was up to, because when the band took a breather he ran up to me outside like he was going to shake my hand and instead grabbed me by the nuts and squeezed. “Ow! Not the balls, Paul, not the balls!” While I enjoyed hangin’ out in close confines with my music idols, that was more than a little too close for comfort. Okay, so I’m not homophobic, and I know Paul was clownin’. Dickie and Duck got a good laugh out of it to boot.

Me and Dickie Peterson backstage at the Key Club, Hollyweird - July '06

Mixing was meant to take two days, but here is where we hit a bad snag. The wrench was thrown into the works when none of Chris’ analog 2-track tape decks were working properly. The closest we came to a functioning unit was still phasing slightly once or twice during a song. Drummer Darin drove down from PA to hang out and mix for half the day, but we ended up not accomplishing anything. It was awesome to hang with Darin again, both of us very satisfied with all aspects of the Die Wontcha sessions. While we were worried about getting the mix finished before I left for L.A., we knew we’d get things sorted out. Both Darin and I were stoked to be around our Blue Cheer heroes, and when Darin had to go back to Pennsylvania the gracious heavy rock behemoths bade him farewell. Dickie Peterson even hugged him just before he jumped in his car.

The technical difficulties were weighing down on my head, and I went outside to call the airline to see about an itinerary change on my return flight. Though it was costly I altered the reservation, then called my office manager and pal Linda Fougere to tell her I wasn’t going to be back on schedule. I knew that I was going to be leaving my job and country behind shortly after returning to L.A., so work was the last thing on my mind. Music was oozing out of every pore of my body in Maryland, and I felt more focused than I’d been in ages. Job? Hell, all I could think about was finishing up the album I’d put every inch of my heart and soul into.

Chris and I worked like mad trying to get the songs mixed, but it seemed like every time we’d finish finish a track I’d hear a spot in the playback where the tape phased or dropped out. It happened intermittently and not on every song. We worked late into the night. The next morning Paul Whaley—as if to apologize for the nut-clamp clowning incident—cooked me some breakfast. Eggs ’n’ bacon fried to order by the devastatingly dangerous drummer. I’ve been around plenty of bands in my time—on tour, on the town, wherever—and been treated like dirt by some of my fave artists in the metal scene. But I can’t stress how surprisingly cool Blue Cheer were to me.

And, yes, why would I even think about the ol’ porn graphic design biz back in “Silicone Valley” when I was hanging out with Blue Cheer? Well, I did, but only for a moment to add a personal spin on one of Dickie’s funny anecdotes. Dickie told his fine-feathered friends at the Polar Bear Lair about a Cheer chickie who asked him to check to see if her recent breast enlargement felt okay or not!? I couldn’t resist adding that a starlet who worked for one of Sampson West’s clients had asked an employee or two to test her refurbished rack out for a moment once at the orifice—I mean office in Reseda. All part of the hippie-dippy communing downstairs in the Polar Bear Lair while I waited for Kozwald to tinker with switching gear around in the control room.

Duck MacDonald popped up to the control room for a visit while Chris and I were listening back to the tune “Falcon” and figuring out any necessary moves to make on the board. He sat down, really digging on the track, nodding his head in approval. When the mellow bridge with clean guitar and analog synth came in Duck got a big smile on his face. “Aww... a little moment of post-coital bliss,” he chuckled and grabbed my shoulder. We burst out laughing like old pals.

Aside from the goofy stories downstairs, Dickie Peterson and I sat down for an amazing chat about the music biz while hardly anyone else was around. No tape recorder running, no interview bullshit, just a road dog lifer reflecting on music to a younger traveler. Dickie was talking about how he was very up-front with his bandmates about doing stuff outside of Blue Cheer when there was down-time, playing solo gigs in the Bay Area or whatever. Dickie had already impressed me when he pointed to the cooler of beers backstage at the Key Club in Hollywood and said, “Man, you can have ’em. I don’t drink that stuff anymore.” He pulled no punches this time when he told me how he was just completely out of it for several years in the ’70s because of his smack addiction. “I want to keep busy with music, ya know, play in front of people,” Dickie told me. He knew the Blue Cheer dudes understood that he wasn’t cheapening his respect for them by playing gigs with his other musician pals.

 “When I was on all that junk,” Dickie told me straight, “ the music started to suffer. Now I’m busier than ever.”

As if I didn’t already know, Dickie was quick to tell me to stay away from anything heavier than weed. I told him that seeing all these heroes die—and two personal friends of mine—was enough to keep me away from that scene.



Paul Whaley, me, Duck MacDonald & Dickie Peterson in the Lair



When Duck and Paul re-entered the room a photo was snapped of me with the Blue Cheer triumvirate in the living room at the Polar Bear Lair. A memory etched into my brain for life, not to mention an image preserved to show just how mindblowingly momentous the trip to record Die Wontcha was. Here was the band responsible for the birth pangs of heavy metal. A far cry from the usual egomaniacal wankers you might encounter on the Sunset Strip in Hollyweird.

Kelly Carmichael from Internal Void showed up at the  gathering to celebrate the kick-off of Blue Cheer’s tour on my last day in Maryland. Mixing was nearly complete. A couple of songs had glitches on them, but I knew Chris would be able to fix them without much trouble. I didn’t sweat the small stuff, and I was more than happy to see the Blue Cheer guys receiving Chris’ full attention for a while. After all, he was a huge part of keeping their show on the road. I was sad to go, but left Middletown on a high-note. Hugs ’n’ handshakes all around, and Kozwald came out to the rental car with me to bid me bon voyage—a couple of minutes turned into nearly a half hour. I didn’t want to be late for my flight, but we couldn’t stop flapping our gums.

As I cruised down the rural Maryland turnpike, a bit of melancholy reflected in the green hills outside the window. I could only dream of Falcon joining Dickie, Duck and Paul on the road. Australia was calling, and I had only a month to clear a few decades of crap out of L.A. At the same time I was overwhelmed by joy—satisfied with cutting a killer album and spending time with the loudest rawkin’ band in the universe, Blue Cheer.

Gypsy Ball (Dickie Peterson & Leigh Stephens)

The gypsy wizard, he rattled
His broken, tattered tambourine
And asked for me to share with him
In this timeless dream.
OW!
Lost in the dazzling fascination
I caught myself touching my imagination
And holding the sights I'd never known
And hearing the sounds I'd not yet been shown.
Toms and trinkets made of green to make us all see.
Tainted jewels and diamond rings and other things.
OW!
Lost in a maze of liquid smoke
I thought my brains were gonna choke
Holding the sights I could not tell
Under a gypsy wizard's spell