A WORD FROM YOUR FRIENDLY BRAZENBLOGGER

Ray Brazen with Michael Winslow

of "Police Academy" fame!

Photo by Josh Rogers

I realize it's been quite some time since I last posted. Rather than offer lame excuses for my absence here, I'll just say I think it's time to rectify that situation and get back into the game. But before I get back to business as usual, I wish to address this blog's current status as an increasingly popular source of info amongst certain academics. 

Yes, friends, the scholars of underground rock have come a-knockin' at my door lately, looking for whatever info they can find for their research, and I of course have plenty to offer them. Mind you, this isn't the first time they've been accessing my work for clues. Back in the raybrazen.com days, quotes from my Godz biography wound up referenced and footnoted in an extensive online essay called "Clamor Of The Godz: Radical Incompetence In '60s Rock," which is still available online and is a well written and researched work indeed, going as far as to reveal facts about the Godz even I didn't know before. 

This time, however, they're hitting me up for info and other materials for inclusion in actual, published books of rock history. In fact, I didn't even know the Brazenblog had already been quoted and referenced in one such book until after it was published. It's a nifty little book called "The Williamsburg Avant-Garde: Experimental Music and Sound on the Brooklyn Waterfront," authored by a Mr. Cisco Bradley, and it's an extensive history of Williamsburg's pre-gentrification glory period. And soon there will be a new book informed in part by this blog, a history of lo-fi music and culture being written by an educator who teaches an actual college class on lo-fi in England of all places! I almost fell out of my chair when Adam Harper contacted me to specifically request a high-quality scan of the original flyer for Lo-Fi Night, that 1988 concert in NYC which marked my performing debut and changed the lives of myself and so many others, for inclusion in this tome! I've also provided other materials for Mr. Harper's research, and truly cannot wait for this one to hit the streets. 

Even as one who has witnessed and chronicled rock history myself, I honestly admit it feels a bit strange to have my personal adventures and online works suddenly be referenced in actual published books. I mean, it's not like me and my old lo-fi crew were giving any thought to the possibility that we were making history, either back in '88 or indeed any other time before this current wave of scholarly interest. "Our scene will be in a history book someday!" said no one ever. 

But we are now living in a day and age where any and all memories of any underground scenes of ages past are ripe for those interested to pounce upon, and they're right there on the internet for the world to see. And there's certainly no point in denying these folks their interest. I know exactly what they're thinking because I've been there myself, many times over. The old saying "what goes around comes around" certainly applies here. After all, I created my Dug Dug's and Godz websites for the purpose of doing exactly what these researchers are doing now -- learning as much as possible about those bands and documenting this knowledge for others, and boy did I succeed at that. 

All I can say to all of this is that I'm proud of all my online work, proud of this Brazenblog, and thankful and grateful that others consider my work over the years to be an inspiration for theirs. And I wish Messrs. Bradley and Harper all the best of luck in what they do, for the truth of the matter is that it takes more than one person to tell the whole story, and the more people adding to the big picture, the better. Write on, gentlemen.

And so, with my solemn vow to get back to blogging more than ever before in '24, this is the first of two brand new posts for the Brazenblog. There are still many tales to be told, unfinished stories to get back to, and even a few crazy little whims I've been entertaining recently in the realm of further underground rock research on my part. And by the way, this message just so happens to be the 49th entry to this blog, which means get the party favors ready now, folks! See you in a bit...

"SMOG" AT 50: AN UNSUNG CLASSIC

For better or worse, golden anniversaries are all the rage in rock these days, and there are certainly enough such milestones around to make anyone feel old, myself most included. In 2022 alone, we've seen such albums as "Ziggy Stardust," "Exile On Main Street," "The Slider," and "Harvest" turn 50, just to name a few. All great albums, to be sure, and all worthy of their respective celebrations. But 1972 also saw the making of another album which should rightfully be heralded in the same league as the aforementioned discs, and one I believe would be just as highly celebrated globally today -- had it been made by an American or British band and been released outside of Mexico. Behold, the absolute greatest 50-year-old rock album the world has never known: "Smog" by Los Dug Dug's. 

Of course, my tireless work on behalf of this band is well documented both here and on my website. But it should be pointed out that when I first began championing Los Dug Dug's online, my view of them as "Mexican rock gods the world ought to know about" was shaped by just three albums: their self-titled debut, "El Loco," and the "15 Exitos" compilation, which for its generous representation of the band's other albums only included the title track of "Smog." Thus, I've only been able to enjoy "Smog" in full for half of its existence. Oh, but as big a fan as I was up to the point where I finally heard it, "Smog" would prove not only to be the album which totally changed the whole Dug Dug's fanboy game for me, but in light of what happened between me and the band soon after my first hearing, it would soon take its place in my world as nothing less than a prophecy of what was about to come. 

"Smog" first came my way on a grey Maxell cassette as part of a tape trade I'd made with a fellow psych fan I'd struck up a brief online acquaintance with. He had all three albums I'd yet to hear in full by the band ("Cambia Cambia" and "Abre Tu Mente" being the other two) and had taped them all for me, but it was "Smog" I rushed to hear first. The kind gentleman who made me the tapes gave me no advance warning that I was in for the ride of my life. No "this is one of the ballsiest records you will ever hear," no "and by the way the heaviest track on it is 12 minutes long," just "here you go, enjoy." The muddy sound quality confirmed it was a copy of a tape he'd received in a trade with someone else, who for all I know might not even have owned the original source vinyl copy himself. But I had to hear what I'd been missing up till then any way I could. 

But even if the guy who had mailed it to me had been more specific about its contents, there would have been absolutely no words in the end which could prepare me, or anyone else, for that crucial, life-altering first listen to "Hagamoslo Ahora (2a Parte)," the multi-part suite which takes up most of side one of "Smog." It had me right at the double-bass kick drum beat which starts it off and runs through damn near the entire song, such a sucker am I for a double-bass drum sound. Through a succession of simple-yet-hammering riffs and scorching drum and piercing guitar mini-solos, it took me on a 12-minute rollercoaster ride of complete and total hard rock power. 

Words here are practically useless in describing this monster of a track -- you have to hear it to believe it, especially Daniel Tello's performance on drums which sounds like nothing less than the Iron Man Decathlon of drumming as he keeps pace with the most intense performance Armando Nava ever committed to tape. (Mr. Tello has recently rejoined Los Dug Dug's, and when they performed "Hagamoslo Ahora (2a Parte)" in honor of the 50th anniversary of Avandaro last year, he recreated his drum marathon perfectly and looked like he was hardly breaking a sweat the whole time!) It was so far above and beyond any Dug Dug's track I'd heard until then that I was literally in shock over it for a full week afterward. 

To say "Smog" made me more determined than ever to track down Armando is an understatement, and just days after that first hearing, the series of events which led me to him began in earnest. When we finally established contact less than two months later I was genuinely convinced that listen had brought with it magic powers. This theory was proven further when he not only visited me in April of the following year, but made me almost run off the road when he tried to present me with a vinyl copy of "Smog" in my car. Truth is indeed stranger than fiction, folks.

Of course, "Hagamoslo Ahora (2a Parte)" is just one part of "Smog." As a whole, it's an album containing the full range of '70s hard rock passion and emotion, from the Jethro Tull-esque title cut and "No Somos Malos" to the straight-up rocker "Cual Es Tu Nombre," and the gorgeously reflective, orchestral 7-minute closer "Voy Hacia El Cielo." And then there's my other favorite track "Yo No Se," a quirky and almost punky song which sounds practically like Devo to my ears! And then there's that album cover depicting the band as cavemen, complete with Armando's bleached grey locks, a dead giveaway that this album doesn't quite sound like the Carpenters. ("I don't have to dye them that way now!" laughed Armando to me recently.) This album is every bit as great as the albums I named earlier and so many more, and what's more, it rocks harder than all of 'em combined. 

The fury of "Smog" can easily be traced to its historic background, as Los Dug Dug's were a band in turmoil throughout the album's entire production. Their original lineup had imploded after playing the Avandaro Festival, its scandalous aftermath having led to a government crackdown on rock, and Armando wanted to change their image from flower-power to full-on heavy rock and reverse the then-prevalent trend in Mexico of local bands singing in English in the process. RCA wanted another album in English, still promising to promote them in the States despite having done no such thing with the English-language album they'd already cut. Steadfastly refusing to buy the bridge they were selling him, Armando defied RCA and hid away for two weeks to rewrite the album in Spanish, recording the resulting songs with the new lineup of the band which lasted pretty much about the time it took to complete the album before once again breaking up. 

In fact, the band's new super-heavy hard rock image itself didn't withstand the release of "Smog," as Los Dug Dug's went on to record "Cambia, Cambia" with yet another new lineup, with Armando's brother Enrique on drums, as the follow-up in 1975, with a distinctly mellower, poppier sound and the band clean-shaven on the cover. I can only imagine how shocking "Cambia" was to fans who had fallen for them via "Smog" when it was first released in Mexico, though it's still a good album on its own terms. But while the "Smog" lineup may not have been long for this world, they left a mark that would eventually travel the world, better late than never, thanks in no small part to this truly obsessed and dedicated "Smog" fan's efforts.

"Smog" has easily taken its place in my book as perhaps the single greatest and most personally important and spiritually significant album I've ever known. Even after hundreds upon hundreds of listens I'll never get sick of it. I always have to watch my speed when I play it in my car. I could probably listen to it on repeat for the rest of my life and be just fine (not that I'm about to, of course). Rating-wise it is an easy and effortless 10/10. And 25 years after I first heard it, 50 years after it was first released in Mexico, it's still one of the freshest-sounding albums you'll ever experience. They've just issued it on clear vinyl in honor of its golden occasion. You should get it. It just might change your life too. 

THE RAYBRAZEN.COM STORY, PART 5 -- LARRY KESSLER, 1941-2022

My personal musical heroes continue to drop like flies in the present wretched scheme of things. Larry Kessler, founding member of psych/outsider/noise-rock pioneers the Godz, passed away on March 24th. It was a cruel and avoidable end: Larry was on his way to a recording studio in Baltimore to finish recording a new song ironically titled "Ain't Done Yet" when he was mowed down by a drunk driver in the studio's parking lot. Put quite simply, it was a very tragic accident which should never have happened. Larry was 80 years old and still active and healthy; many folks, myself included, were looking forward to seeing how many more years he'd have left in him. And as I mourn his untimely loss, my personal memories of the Godz have come flooding back to me to the point where I've realized I never did finish that damn memoir of my days as a fansite manager that I started writing in pre-dark age times. And since the next chapter's the Godz, well... the time is more than right to finally pick up where I left off.

In 1998, just after my initial internet success tracking down Armando Nava of Los Dug Dug's, I was hellbent on repeating that success. Just as I had done with Los Dug Dug's, I started another website as a plea for any info on the whereabouts of another favorite band of mine whose story was still untold at that point, and gave it the name FIRST CHURCH OF THE GODZ. It attracted the attention of a few informed fans as well as late-period Godz associate Leslie Fradkin, who deserves credit for helping the site get off the ground initially. But it wan't until late 2002 that this site finally found its way to Larry Kessler when he sat down with his then-teenage son Mike to learn about the internet, and out of curiosity they did an online search for the Godz. Bingo! And so it was that one fine day, Mike Kessler (one of no less than seven kids Larry fathered) emailed me and asked if I was interested in talking to his dad. At long last lightning had struck twice! 

And so, on February 18, 2003, after we'd both dug ourselves out of a massive blizzard (he in Baltimore, me in New Jersey), I called Larry and we talked for a full hour. He couldn't possibly have been more cordial or appreciative of my interest. He had no regrets about his days with the Godz, and even spoke of current and future endeavors. He answered most of my questions, told some insane stories about the band, and even debunked some claims Jim McCarthy had made in a fanzine interview a fellow fan had sent me a few years earlier. He also spoke at length about his days as ESP Disk's general sales manager and lamented the fact that the band had never received so much as a cent in royalties from the label's many different issues of their albums. It was a wonderful chat and at last I had a truly clear vision of what the Godz' existence had been like. Here's a slightly edited version of my interview with Larry for your listening enjoyment, ripped straight from cassette:

We kept each others' contact info on file and promised to stay in touch. This vow would come in handy two years later when, in 2005, ESP Disk suddenly went back into business in NYC and began an extensive reissue campaign of many of its classic late '60s releases. Among their plans at that time was a box set reissue of all four original Godz albums. And it had just so happened that ESP's notorious president, Bernard Stollman, had also seen my Godz website by that point and was interested in having me write the liner notes and help him coordinate the project. Stollman was a man whose label deeply influenced me and my music over the years... and he was about to become one of the biggest assholes I'd ever meet in my entire life. 

I already knew of Stollman's shady business practices going in, so I approached the situation with extreme caution and talked to Larry first. He was already hip to the label's plans, and I'd assumed he wouldn't want me to get involved, but to my surprise, when I asked if he approved of my participation, he said "Go do it!" Then, upon establishing phone contact with Stollman, I insisted on several terms for our participation in the project, such as securing the approval of all of the original Godz, and insisting the finished product be cut from the original analog masters which were in Larry's possession. ESP's previous reissues had been of absolutely pisspoor quality for the most part, and thus I made it clear that I was not willing to put my name on a box set the Godz themselves were unhappy with. This seemed fine with Stollman... or so he said at the time.

Getting the original members of the Godz on the same page was not the easiest of tasks. Larry, bless him, trusted me enough to pass me the phone numbers of Jim McCarthy and Paul Thornton. Jim flat-out refused to talk to me, while Paul, at first seemingly just as open to the idea as Larry, then began ignoring my follow-up contacts. I soon learned both were making plans to legally block ESP's production of the Godz box. This news came my way in the form of a lovely little cease-and-desist letter from their lawyers, who insisted any future contact with the band on my part was to be "through us and not our clients."

Eventually, however, Paul had some sort of disagreement with their lawyers, broke free from their grasp, and finally agreed to speak at length with me himself. This we did in August '05, just two days after my official formal meeting with Stollman, over lunch with him and his wife at the world-famous Veselka restaurant (a Ukranian eatery by the way... oh, these wretched times we're now in) on the lower east side of NYC. Just like Larry, Paul was super-friendly and more than happy to talk about his days with the Godz, and he was even able to answer a few questions Larry couldn't. Meanwhile, we all wondered about the whereabouts of the ever-elusive fourth member Jay Dillon, who the others hadn't seen or heard from since he'd left the band after their second album in 1968. Sadly, we found out Jay had just passed away that very summer as we'd finally tracked him down to his last address in Pennsylvania, where he'd been living a quiet life -- a sad end to a scenario which had me contacting nearly every damn person named Jay Dillon in the continental United States trying to find him!

With or without their involvement, though, the Godz box set project was quite honestly doomed from the get-go. Their breakup had been less than amicable and there were still plenty of unresolved tensions amongst them, which Stollman obviously saw as a golden opportunity to further exploit them for his own personal gain. At any rate, Jim continued to pursue his case against ESP while Paul, Larry and myself tried to cooperate with Stollman as best we could. Things remained stuck in a holding pattern until Jim's lawyers finally proposed a settlement which ESP promptly rejected, after which I called Larry and we both agreed the whole mess had become a complete waste of our time. 

I then made the brave move of volunteering to call Stollman myself to inform him that Larry and I were quitting the project. Holy fucking shit. That scumbag completely lost his marbles before I could even get all the words out. He immediately launched into a truly insane, brain-dead rant in which he made the dubious claim that "I created the Godz and I can destroy them too" and threatened to "countersue them out of existence for good" if they pursued any further action against him. I finally hung up on him and that was that -- Bernard and I would never talk again.

By now it was 2006, a full year since work on the project had been started, and I'd made the decision to just leave Larry and the others alone for a spell. It was obvious the box set was now a dead issue, but I further assumed I'd failed miserably in getting all three surviving members back together. That's why I was astonished when Larry suddenly hit me up out of the blue several months later with the exciting news that I had, in fact, succeeded in reuniting the Godz after all. It turned out that after Stollman's rejection of Jim's offer, the three of them finally got together in the same room and talked out all their differences, and they were all now officially part of Jim's lawsuit against ESP. And Larry was excited to further announce that the Godz were also preparing to make their first recordings since 1973.

With everyone on the same page at last, Jim finally agreed to speak with me. It was a memorable half-hour call where he expressed his appreciation for the work I'd done on their behalf, spoke about his love of photography, and even hipped me to a super-obscure late '70s Australian noise band called the Primitive Calculators who had mysteriously dedicated an album to him! At last I'd now talked to all three Godz, and my personal fanboy experience was that much more complete. 

The lawsuit dragged on for awhile but the Godz ultimately reached a non-disclosure settlement with ESP before Stollman finally (and thankfully) died of cancer in 2015. And as for the reunion, they managed to record some new songs which appeared on a retrospective CD Larry put out soon after the settlement -- the first official Godz release outside of ESP. Jim sent me regular updates during this time as well as CDRs of the new material (and even a Christmas card!), and I kept fans posted on my website. There was talk of a full new album and tour, but their rekindled affair didn't last long and they disbanded again. Larry kept the rights to the name and later formed his own new version of the Godz which Paul occasionally sat in with before he passed in 2019. And now Larry is gone, leaving Jim as the only remaining original member of the group. It is my sincere wish that we don't lose him too soon.

For all its ups and downs, I have no regrets whatsoever about my involvement in this whole glorious mess. Just as with Los Dug Dug's before them, I had succeeded in tracking down a band I'd loved for years, finally unraveling their mysteries, learning their story, and relating it to others. The liner notes I wrote for the aborted box set were ultimately updated further and published on this blog in 2016 to commemorate the 50th anniversary of "Contact High With The Godz." If you haven't already done so, you may read and enjoy them right here. 

And so, to Larry Kessler... Godzspeed, my dear friend. I'm gonna miss you. And thanks so much to you, and also to Jim McCarthy and Paul Thornton, for everything you've done. And I must add special thanks to Larry's son Mike, who hooked me up with him and also broke the sad news of his passing to me -- you are a true servant of the Godz if ever there was one.

ARMANDO, JET AND ME: NY & NJ, JUNE 2021

Over the past six years on this blog I have delighted in telling tales of my "historical rock & roll misadventures" from days long ago. With that in mind, I now proudly present a rock & roll tale which takes place in the present day, yet is destined for history and in fact involves folks already well discussed in past stories here. 

Those who have followed my web endeavors from the beginning are well aware of my association with the legendary Mexican psychedelic rock band Los Dug Dug's, and boy oh boy, have we come a long way. It seems that the website I created for the band in the late '90s is now considered a pioneering moment in the history of Mexican rock on the web, as the first serious site created for a Mexican band. And it is further being cited as the work that put Los Dug Dug's on the map of world-acclaimed psych bands and ultimately fueled a current wave of renewed interest. This wave has already led to the main Dug Dug himself, Armando Nava, setting up headquarters north of the border and playing a number of shows in the States, including several psych music festivals. Their presence on the web in recent years has been maintained by Jose Pena, a promoter in Mexico City who took over from me in 2013 and has done an absolutely amazing job, creating the official Dug Dug's online fan club La Gente on Facebook. Since its inception it has become a massive memorabilia archive of such size and depth it leaves me almost completely speechless.

Armando and his rotating lineup of new Dug Dug's (who sometimes still include members who played on classic albums like the almighty "Smog") played several shows both in Mexico and America and were planning more Stateside dates last year, but... (Nope, let's not even go there!) But now that life is returning to normal again, they're already gearing up to begin playing live again this year, starting with a July 31st show in Las Vegas and an appearance at the Huichica psych festival in Sonoma, California in mid-October. In the meantime, Armando has returned to work on a forthcoming documentary about his life and his band. It has already been in production for a couple of years, but this year the operation has officially shifted into triple-overdrive. And on the second weekend in June, Armando and his director Miguel Guerrero took it to the streets of New York and New Jersey, personally inviting yours truly to join them all-expenses-paid to appear and be interviewed in the documentary. How could I have possibly said no, especially since I hadn't set foot in my homeland in well over a decade? 

They said it would only be a two-day shoot, but I talked them into putting me up in Brooklyn for six days -- June 11 to 16 -- so I could mix business with pleasure, not to mention make it into a very sentimental journey home, about which I will say more later. I gotta admit I was nervous and anxious as hell going in. I intially worried, as did a few loved ones, that the whole thing would turn out to be an ungodly mess and I'd wind up stranded. It didn't help matters any that they hadn't finalized my lodging arrangements until mere hours before my flight, with a simple promise that "the keys are in the mailbox out front." It wasn't for fear of flying that I was scared shitless to board that plane. But as the flight took off I thought, "Wait a minute! This is Armando we're talking about. I may not know these other people but I do know him, and I know he definitely wouldn't steer me wrong." 

That was just the thought I needed to get me through the flight, and four and a half hours and two buses later I finally found the address of the place I was staying, relieved to find the keys were indeed in its mailbox. I keyed my way in to a large, lovely room with an actual bed in it, then waited nervously for my temporary roommate to emerge from the shower, hoping she'd be nice. I was beyond relieved when a beautiful young lady named Jessica finally came out and immediately commenced to being incredibly cool and laid back with me, telling me to make myself right at home and slipping me the Wifi password in the process. "Just one rule," she told me, "no loud music. Other than that, you're good." I took this to be a very good omen indeed.

Later that day, Armando and Miguel arrived from San Francisco and they hooked up with Issel Campos, the simply glamorous bright red-haired producer of the Dug Dug's doc. I figured on getting to see them that night, but they claimed they'd get in too late and be too tired. The next morning my Facebook feed revealed a shot of them drinking Tecate in a bar the night before, which honestly seemed a bit suspect at the time, but I was soon to learn this was part of the plan, for when it came time to report to the shoot two days later, well... I literally walked right smack dab into the middle of it. The cameras were already rolling when I entered La Loncheria in Bushwick and walked straight into the path of Armando Nava himself. And then I realized why they'd kept him from me until then -- they wanted the exact moment of our face-to-face reunion in the film to be completely authentic, real and unstaged. 

It was perfectly natural for me to snap right into my role. Quickly seizing the moment, I told Armando he still looked the same as he did on his vintage album covers, then noticed he had a freshly-opened bottle of Sidral Mundet in front of him, and told him of my obsession with Mexican soda (which is always made with sugar and comes in many exotic flavors). Armando invited me to have one with him and at that moment the director yelled "Cut!" The reunion scene was in the can in one unrehearsed take, and cast and crew immediately retreated to the back of the restaurant for a full-fledged Dug Dug's dinner party with the main Dug himself playing host! 

I had the most amazing time eating La Loncheria's absolutely killer food while reconnecting with Armando, hanging out in person at last with Miguel and Issel, and finally meeting Eric Zolov, author of the definitive history of Mexican counterculture, "Refried Elvis," a book I've admired for years. The whole crew was as saintly to me as Sr. Nava himself and the whole affair melted into one dream world smack in the midst of Brooklyn. And all the stars aligned as this once seemingly most uncertain and haphazardly arranged of situations became one smooth operation from top to bottom. After four dizzying hours of eating, drinking and talking with Armando and crew, I floated back to my crash pad on air and my temporary roommate Jessica actually invited me back out for a drink! I said "Sure, but can I rest a bit first?" and then promptly passed out from exhaustion. But I wouldn't have minded a friendly night out with her -- I wondered if she actually thought I was some indie film star!

The next day I met up with Armando and his crew again, this time at a pub known as Bizarre Bar. It was here that I saw firsthand just how rock docs are REALLY made. If you think they just roll the cameras and let the subject ad-lib his way through the interview, you're only partially right. As I already knew going in from having worked as a movie extra in the late '90s, they don't fuck around when making a film. It involves quite a bit of time setting up and waiting around for them to get everything exactly right. And yes, just as with a regularly scripted film, your interview is subject to breaks in the action, often in mid-sentence, which in turn requires you to do several takes of many of your answers.  (This raw footage of Mick Ronson's last interview before his death is a good example of what a typical rock doc shoot is generally like.)

Still, I guess having to redo some of my answers was good in the end, for I made an effort to do it better each take, just as if I was acting. Armando sat quietly in a corner through it all, watching me speak and taking mental notes, until I played the last scene directly to him. And once again the whole crew was amazing. They were just the kind of laid-back, easygoing people who leave you with the impression you've known them before, even though you've just met them. 'Tis pity I only got to spend two days with Armando and his wonderful friends, and just writing this makes me wish we could all meet back at La Loncheria. It's my sincere hope that I cross paths with them again, and I can't thank Miguel, Issel and all the rest enough for making this trip into a dream come true for me. They are very special people on a very special mission to give Los Dug Dug's the recognition they truly deserve, and I can't wait to see the final results. 

My work on the documentary was complete, but with almost two days left before my flight back to Orlando I now had a second mission to accomplish, one which involved boarding a bus back to my hometown of Elmwood Park, NJ. After a very surrealistic walk around the town noting its drastic changes (including the utterly sobering sight of my beloved old corner store replaced by a friggin' Allstate office) and surprising my all-time favorite former next-door neighbor Kitty, now all of 104 years old and still sharp as a tack -- move over, Betty White!!! -- I met up with Mr. Mark DeAngelis a.k.a. Jet Screamer, my ex-partner in Living Guitars. We had a great lunch at Pizza Town, my favorite hometown pizza place that's been around since 1958 and hasn't changed a bit, and then proceeded to Bloomfield and Jet's home studio (which, sadly, is now being sold from under him). 

One thing quickly led to another and soon we both had guitars in our hands and were jamming together for the first time in 30 years, a very special and historic moment for both of us indeed. I'll say no more about that at this time (draw your own conclusions you fanboys), but I will say that Jet is still the same cool and crazy tech wizard I knew back in the day, perhaps even more so, and he still has that same old Guild axe he played in Living Guitars. We drank barley tea, talked about the old and the new, went over Jet's amazing collection of gear, and then Jet drove me back to my bus in Elmwood Park... but we didn't leave before I took him to my favorite local hot dog joint, River View East! Thusly, I successfully accomplished my planned feat of eating at BOTH of my favorite hometown eateries on the same day! It was another amazing day and just as with the day of my reunion with Armando, I floated on air back to Bushwick to spend one final night at my temporary HQs. And once again, I found myself quite reluctant to board the plane... but for very different reasons this time! 

Six days back in NYC wasn't nearly enough time to see very many old friends. But the few I did get to see were just as wonderful as they've always been. In addition to Armando and Jet, I also touched base with Sari of the Gamma Rays (one of the greatest female rock & roll bands EVER) and psychedelic legend (in more ways than one) Dino Sorbello, who still has his old flat on East 6th Street -- and it still looks exactly the same! I only wish I could've seen so many more of my old-school chums, but there's always next time... and I'm thinking there may well have to be one. 

My story wouldn't be complete without some observations about New York and New Jersey in general after having seen 'em for the first time in many, many years. First and foremost, Williamsburg was a far bigger nightmare to experience firsthand than it was to even hear about, and no level of advance warning could've prepared me for the viciously soul-crushing horror of seeing once-peaceful Bedford Avenue's transformation into Brooklyn's answer to downtown Disney in person. Greenwich Village was equally as painful to see again for the most part -- St. Marks Place now looks like a nuclear bomb hit it, and I deliberately avoided walking past Varvatos, er, I mean the former CBGB location. 

But the NYC of old isn't completely dead -- you just have to know where to look for it. To that end, it is thanks to my weeklong residence there that I found that old-school city vibe still in effect in Bushwick, which still has salsa sounds coming from passing cars and bodegas on every other corner, graffiti all over the place and a strong artist presence -- in short, the NYC I remember. I grew to like Bushwick very much during my stay, and I greatly enjoyed filming there and visiting the new Rubulad location and watching the sun rise from the big old cemetery they put me up right across the street from. Across the Hudson, more modern culture shock awaited me, especially in places like the Meadowlands (now a huge upscale shopping mall) and my hometown, but New Jersey still has places I remember, and of course Jet lives there now!

One very major nostalgic payoff for me came in the form of hometown food. Many places I used to eat at regularly are still there and still serving great grub to this day, like Pizza Town and River View East in ol' Elmwood Park, and San Loco in the East Village and Anna Maria's pizza in Williamsburg. The local pizza in general remains second to none and even my one go-to spot for the stuff in Orlando, good though it is, still couldn't hold a candle to it. And yes, there was a White Castle within walking distance of my temporary HQs... with only one person ahead of me in line! (Take THAT, O-Town!)

Oh yeah, and one more thing... I'm not gonna lie, I definitely took some advantage of NY & NJ's recently revised laws regarding a certain (cough, cough) recreational activity during my stay. Suffice it to say the whole goshdarn city smells like one big party now...

All in all, this trip couldn't possibly have come at a better time. These last two years of my life have been extremely difficult for me. Between the deaths of multiple family members and friends and the recent state of the world, I was still in the midst of a deep depression when Armando and Miguel first hit me up to do this thing. Reconnecting with my homeland, participating in the Dug Dug's documentary project, and spending time with friends both old and new was exactly the sort of healing I needed at this time, and may very well have saved my life. It's pure joy to feel alive and inspired once more in the wake of this incredible adventure, and now that I'm feeling so much better, I also feel more creative than ever before.  

And so once again to Miguel & Issel, Eric, Tania and the rest of the crew, Jet, Sari, Dino, Jessica & Teresa who kindly lent me their space, and most of all my dearest friend and most amazing human being Armando Nava, I thank all of you more than you will ever, ever know. May we all meet again, and may I return someday very soon and see the many old friends I still wish to meet with again, and make more new ones as I go. 

And last, but definitely not least, I am filled with pride and honor to conclude this post by announcing that nearly a quarter century after I launched El Mundo Loco De Los Dug Dug's on the web, the band's very own site LOSDUGDUGS.COM is now online. And dear readers, may I gently suggest you call/text the phone number posted on the site sometime. You never know who might answer...

(And click here for the full gallery of photos from my trip!)