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In 1994 Sasha Lindquist and I lived in a
disgusting sub-code apartment
landlorded by an old police officer on Division avenue in Chicago.
There was a gaping hole big enough to lose a puerto-rican stroller in the sidewalk directly in front of our door. Sasha was jazzed about my band ABORTED CHRIST CHILDE, to my surprise, because he looked more like a SKREWDRIVER fan at that time. I was consistantly impressed with Sasha's speed-fueled guitar mangling in the back room of our place so when he asked if i was interested in co-creating something fast and ruinous, I agreed; back to amphetamine music without metal in it...to metabolise the no-wave and the hardcore. Wigpaw we knew as being admirable for appearing in an underground porn (as spectator only) with his own sister and her husband Scott Gibbons and I asked him to play sampler to industrify our burlap. It was around that summertime when me, Sasha and STRAWBERRY's Jonathan Joe held a free-cocaine-and-heroin-party (wherein Marc Ruker's legs rhythmically pumped, Sasha's eyes were observed to be red and green concentric circles and Azita Youssefi was introduced to WALL OF VOODOO), that I had been doing an extra bit of flipping (at blastbeat-tempo) thru regional 12" vinyl bargain bins, when I spied an album with gory letters that said HATEWAVE. "Whoa!", I immediately reversed my direction in the stack, "that looked GOOD..." It turned out to be an album by HEATWAVE. Then I moved the fuck out of Chicago and Weasel replaced me and they turned the band into some particle-board-metal shit with one too many -core suffixes. ~Nondor 2008 |
