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| GIGLAND
PROCLAMATION
Gigland is ruled by King Tin Ear and
his Queen Anebria... We, the Subjects of Gigland are seldom
ever heard over the incessant clang of the Booze machines.. For some time, the Corporate Wizards have had all
the drowsy clientele Completely under their spell. The stages sit, silent now as the sun has caused us to retreat deep into the bedding of dark coffins. But the night minstrels will rise fully armed with an arsenal of ripping
guitars, whirling keyboards and pounding drums... All linked by the new soul of technology- Then, a billion watts of sound will pour
forth onto the ears of it's numb patrons... And the sensitive, underpaid Troubadors of Gigland will join in a rousing chorus- an electric voice of unity to protest against the silence of desperate all-consuming night.... Look out granny- Here We Come. _____________ Charred voices burst through the holes in a booming bass drum.... it beats wildly, like the heart of a child who wants to tell the story of the Circus he
just saw... Its' merciless assault falls- Snap! on deaf ears. as we scream lines we've all heard and uttered- at least a thousand times.... On stage, We strike the opening chords like a calvary charge, sending forth a rush of sound into the bodies of our guests. Our job is simple, To start the Party off And keep it going until closing time. Prince
Valium just came in- we call
him that because he's a bit
lazy and very
rich, and bears
an uncanny resemblance
to a drunk Jim Morrison. He's fond
of slumming on tuesdays and thursdays, so he comes
here to get warmed up- for the
real parties on the weekend... He rides
up in his milk white Porche knowin full
well- Miss Babylon
is peekin' through the curtain. As soon
as she hears that engine she's off
to the john to gas up practically
jumps him at the door she sure
can blow a thick smoke screen. Although,
as far as looks go, she's near
Perfection. They make
a very Happy, handsome
couple for about
10 whole minutes... Then Drive
Away stoned at 97 miles
an hour. Over there, far off in the corner Lisa May Dances Alone As always. It's been that way. Since she was 13, She's goes home to Daddy and Daddy
Only... if you get what I mean... Achilles the Heel, Did make several passes at her though- Keeping his other heel on Lady Marmalades' Crimson Satin Disco Gown... Who, for some reason, never even spoke To long time friends Tragic Fanny or her daughter Fae tonight. They drank their four Ice Tea's pouted a few minutes, And then left- complaining- About the lousy juke box selection that fills up our breaks... All
in all though, everyone
is pretty subdued this evening Except maybe, Queen Jane- the former
porno star. They say
she was Lou Reed's pusher in the seventies... she drops
in six quarters for that song "Her
Tears Say, What She Never Could" You know
the one... If i hear
it one more time i may get
violent.... All the
girls here play that stupid song... it’s a late
night anthem Somehow
tapped in with the feminine
mystique i don't
understand either... They'll
probably have to replace the whole CD now. The Sooner
The Better, man It's sounding
pretty worn... The smoke's not too bad up here on
stage As our darling club owner Charlie Has had the filters replaced for the first time since 1973 our asthmatic keyboardist - Brian, Is Breathing freely now And complaining only mildly about the watered down wine coolers. He'll frequently Blame It On The Wine When his lame chops get blasted By the rest of us- he's reliable though, And sings like a burned out Billy Joel. It's always better to have an alcoholic keyboardist rather than a guitarist- drunk guitar players go off on some bizarre tangents- solos start taking on strange patterns like Appalachian scales- around some Greek chorus in the reverb chamber of his mind. Our bartender tonight is young Ray- his father, Citizen Daze Just called to warn him that Harley
Tatoo was seen with his ex-wife so be careful. Harley's buddies are always near just within muffler reach.... Chopper Joe and Chopper Jerry being the most dangerous But Ray says, "Hey, the Honeymoon's more than
Over And wait til he tries her lasagne..." The Judge
and his Jury showed up
wednesday nite to condemn
a few faithless non-patrons
of their lowdown ways and to remind
all present of a sale
on friday in the meat department... He says,
If The Price Is Right the consumer
is too- and if you show
up, you could
win the big store raffle fifty dollar
jar of soap.... The judge
then made some off-handed cellulite remark wherein
Blimpy got sore and dropped his hot dog, they're
still cleanin' up themustard. Salome Hosier
dances for us now in the red
light- seduces
the boredom away... a white
trash trailer princess her mother,
Ma Barker raised her
to bite down hard and leave
a good mark, find his
weak spot and get on the lease... She's sexy
enough to be fatal to even
the most solid ego, as those
chalk outline on the dance floor clearly show... She slowly
gyrates in the shadows of deceit and
floorplay letting
these drunk horny truckers slip on
their own testosterone drool... After all, a Pretty
Face is a rarity round here it's like
a new Beer billboard a splendidly
painted sign post that there's fresh dainties
up ahead... For us, some needed
mileage for a dead end
set... In a place
of wounded dreams, limbo dances
and mumbling spirits, dead ends
are common... Again, we're getting the rolling eyes from our sound tech the one with the P.H.D. in obnoxious behavior. his only true joy is robbing musicians
of theirs... I really envy him his three bills a
week though.... Mary Magdoline has come in to see the used car dealer about a Pontiac... hope he don't rape her on the mark
up... Sandra, the Spider woman is still looking for a Texas millionaire with an Ocean Liner yacht... using sticky cigarettes fingers and Raid perfume as her bait. Her web seems to be thinning lately.... Both drink Rum and coke and glare at Evita - ah, yes... the pretty Cuban waitress they're lucky she just works weekends she has a great Amadeus laugh... and a birthmark on her- never mind.... The guitar
player in the clown suit is smiling
this set-- He's smiling
because he knows where all
his C chords are... he keeps
all his simple triads in an old
shoe box in his busy mind marked "junk" he's smiling
cause he's had two watermelon shooters
and he might get laid if Diane has another budweiser... He's smiling
because he doesn't know that Terry
and Diane punched
a hole in heaven two nights ago in His
mustang.... the three
6's on his skull don't show
anymore cause of
the new wig, he's a ram
rod, with Fusion
impulses and No style. he quotes
Benny Hill and Caligula non stop- he has the
personality of a cobra a real class
act- My buddy. Half Loaded and Giddy Were just 86'd, kicking and scratching All the way out the front door. Everybody seemed genuinely pleased, or at least momentarily amused.... But not near as much as The Jackal and his hyenas They're impersonating stallions... Hate the real ones, those smelly Italian braggarts... Mild mannered Harry Samson Who guards the temple door, is said to have crushed Popeye Rayvin's
hand in an argument over Daphne Moses bra-size... He's a big pussycat- And nobody saw the Lady on Reds leave- and jump off Guilt-lust Ridge that
night she made 11 trips to the ladies restroom, and was overheard sayin' "he'll
be sorry then“ in the stall.... i thought she was drinkin' strawberry
daiquiris, and was doing swell... It's the Middle of the week... the natives are restless and swollen like polish sausage bursting on grill, or a water balloon rolling on hot dead
grass... So why is everybody still here? it can't be the tacos, Or the Band... Those Mother
hens in the front row all night
sqwuaking about how cute my boss is- He points
at them as if to say "You're
The One " babe Then pokes
fun at the same aging beauties in the dressing
room backstage the ones
who eat too many leftovers and broke all
the mirrors at home... Gentlemen
always prefer blondes but there
ain't any of those here so the brunettes
are cleaning up... It 's half
time, have to get back up there the game
draws much better than the band so it 's
top dog around here- I'm merely
another Jester in Emperor
Footballs royal court.. Spent the
whole break Talkin'
to Doris Clay She had
a wholesome past but has
a doleful present, and was
wondering why Rock Huggy-bear
and Cary Gram-cracker
turned gay? I'll give
you a clue there sister... And Everyone's wondering about- the morning after. Will it be foreign sheets or Winchells
again? I have no such delusions Or Illusions- Probably Dunkin' Donuts for me.... Non-Fiction is always stranger and much thicker, Than the other stuff- Nobody reads anymore... This Report from Gigland- Good night. __________ {Gigland Game Object...Find 15 Hidden
Song Titles} *PERFECTION *MISS BABYLON *HAPPY *THE HONEYMOON'S OVER *LISA MAY DANCES ALONE *BREATHING *THE SOONER THE BETTER *BLAME IT ON THE WINE *ILLUSIONS *HER TEARS SAY (WHAT SHE NEVER COULD) *PRINCE VALIUM *NON-FICTION *DRIVE AWAY *YOU'RE THE ONE *IF THE PRICE IS RIGHT BLAND MOMENT In this
Bland moment, dearest one, you look
as tired as a cold fire-in Ashes and dark eyes- The Pressure
can burst rusty pipes I have to
linger back and wait for Raw feeling to Cook... the grinding
of dishes and glasses gets a jagged response- Masks are
lifted - for urges
to be exchanged for Love,
sins, and remorse- remorse
gets first crack at the Naked
pages cradled in an Alcohol fog... Razor sharp
words and hidden meanings find knee Jerk smiles- The Potion
is working Splendidly
tonite... The rattling
wind outside Slams against
too much Carnage and a solace
Mix we choose this Dungeon instead- cold Coffee
and Candles unlit watch the
wet battery minds sputter. The game
is Courage but the Questions remain the same re-runs
and baffling simplicity Tip driven
cohorts Brag & complain ever mindful
of their Power... We bounce
from Waitress to bartender in a flux of Shop-talk- voices in
chatter Drift like
balloons through the air Crude words
used and abused the pleasant tones as moods
shift Lotus land
is covered in Blankets of forget... the cold
acceptance of the advertising
War on intelligence Shit is
what the Public embraces... __________ DARK Gigland is especially dark tonite all the fires are out in my head I'm swaying to a different sound that of peace and stillness the unwavering drops of time have pooled in a place for these precious few moments ...Gigland is far off from this resting Stop-Stop-Stop- Cocktail sign doesn't flicker or show any signs of life- Can real meaning find it's way in here? can I afford to care? Lounges are full of dishonored
guests all around the world the Poisons collect- I'm infected and have been for a long time... _____________ |
HAVEN The lounge is safe haven to the same
losers- here, we comfort each other with our
presence....
some of us are only here for the money... some of us are here for the women... some of us are only here for the attention.... some of us are here to drink... (If the boss will allow it) There is still hope in our heroes and
our creations... and Hope has many followers... Like these women only half aware of the sad boyfriend trials they will some- day face... Only vaguely mind-ful Of the Mommy Missing Misfits we have become Hearing the horrible tales told over
Kamikazee shots thinking 0"that won't be my guy that will never be- mine is forever faithful"... as He eyes the waitress and flirts
with the chicky singer playing table games they all despise
but preferring them to the ostracized position of stuck-up wench or supreme-bitch parked at home... When crashing egos hit faithless patrons in a fury of despair when red eyes get beaten shut with spreading coma-tose-syndrome When fish-head-body-odor stench piles up fast in the back room/ kitchen/dressing
room and insults tighten the air. There is no purer competitive agony
than that of entertainer angst... That's when I hide... Deep into the forest of distraction in a corner booth reading comics and
philosophy for a temporary escape it's a comic book dream here with 3d
graphics... You find yourself further in the corner Than when you started out And wonder how this dark room could
get any darker... As the words cave in on you, You find out more things about people that you didn't want to know in the
first place. All of us Crying for renunciation from a pitied present... Tension- For in all of Gigland there is only the familiar smirks and no mention of the stupor. I recognize sublimity in the faces
of a fanciful few Who can escape then? What scream can shatter such a deep
human trance? And release the mind that's never seen
a real light? Music is a watery force here- Diluted to the point of a background
hum- I am nothing but a suited noise maker.... i've been a part of the hoax for a
long time now there is no hiding from the cycle of
showtime highs and lows of broken sound boards and ugly cheap lighting or have left... Where thin skinned insecurity is forever
pounding on the back Stage Door... ____________ INSOMNIACS
PRAYER 5:30 AM Sleep is
a challenge here- shaking
off the frozen glare of a hundred vacant eyes that seem
to drip like acid into your soul... the Indians
thought cameras extinguished a soul big deal...they
come and will not go... home, to
their own nightmares.... People that
collect their garbage for weeks and bring it here to dump folks
who revel in
the fact that they got off their leash they escaped,The
trouble is, there is
no leash...and there never was....Their short spurts of freedom Have been
wrestled away from fogged up windows whose imaginations
are Volkswagons
without wheels... _____________ MAIDS IN WAITING
The maids can't wake Up.
Low whispers heard in the hall They never rise early- enough. Immoveable ghosts, behind pale yellow silent doors... Like that scene in "The Shining" where little boy rides through Lamp lit corridors... The maids push squeaky carts and shuffle
towels into position- tidy Bathrooms, and make beds in all rooms- but Ours. We are the True Vampire Race and will rise late just in time for dinner- and a show... Quiet please. ___________ GIGLAND GOSSIP You need a road map for the conversations around here- they take some very bizarre turns You keep saying in your head, Don't go there, Don't go there, But you're already there... A penny and a shot for those deep thoughts... __________ Margaret Must Decide A decision must be reached Her faith has been well bleached the pigeon toe prostitute gives up
one for the money and two for the show... Then Silos Mariner creeps- In... he needs a woman he knows a fair price he raised a lady
ya know. Gladys is here for her medicine Burgundy 500 miligrams- ends- thinking about that concubine she called
her daughter once.... ________ And Martha misses her husband now that he's dead she did'nt miss him a day he as alive- We called him Tired Ted... _________ Shirly tries to get rid Of a cold- She's sipping Too much and Talking too much- feels old.. _________ Lanz has clients with expensive Gripes- he can't seem to make the bills freeze or shrink... He's here to drink either Tequila for a tooth-ache or beer for a belly ache winks- at Brenda, who is still very pretty and on Ladies night a bit witty She likes- she's lonely only after dark and tired of wasting time... Wants to move on or in - with someone... Does it really matter who? __________ These ancient beauties might still
be attractive if they had all their teeth and a few thousand in the bank... ____________ GIGLAND-A TALE My weezing
taxi driver says they found a tumor, says and
he won't be with us very long... He drops
me off before my own tears start flowing
and I see you as soon as he is gone. You say
Elvis dated your big sister when he's
making movies by the ton, then some
lunatic gets in my face mad, says that
he is Betty Grable's son. He drops
you off in front of our favourite bar. this night
could be a long one... _____________ Advice
to a Young Cellist- move
to France... Today... ___________ Observation
#63 Good
men can be very bad, bad
men can be generous and loving and
therefore good.... drunks
sober up- priests
and bankers get drunk and
party with
the drummer... ____________ FLIES Flies
would be lounge musicians -If
they were human. I'm
Sure of it. _____________
GIGLAND HAS TEETH- perks- they used to call them Carpet-baggers- after the civil war-they evolved... _____________ ABYSS It's the Gigland abyss- The Gigland maze of lies and deciet. I'm caught fast In it's web- a web of millions of lies and cheats like me- a web, of boast and boredom Riddles and repetitive chants the typsy high squeaking mouses- Mouses of Gigland. Where talent hits walls- it is too weak to climb. In a fortress it did not build Talent- that bleeds for small tokens of acknowledgment - Talent- that smiles tormentedly while wrestling visions of a greatness never to be reasoned or found again breeding in this thick swamp of sinking dreams.... Smoke talons rip open holes in our communal pores leave a ripped psyche- is hidden in fun and games we sip together off misery's chalice and embrace Lady Deception's smooth body... ____________ VEGAS VALLEY The Vegas
machine is set on coast... The sacred
slots do most of the work here They're
like the I.R.S. bandits just sit
back and watch the money roll in... yet, the whirling
dirvish slots are the more interesting than that
aged baby boomer- robot sitting
in front of them. That cigarette
in on mouth, drink in hand mesmerized
robot gambler for whom there is no gamble but the
gamble of so many wasted years... a gamble
suggests odds and a possible pay back somewhere
down the line... the slots
really enjoy this joke the endless
pouring in of metal to metal what a sweet
song to a pit bosses ear, with a raise
in 6 weeks the books look great... most of
us were never very good at math in school... ___________ GOLD
RUSH- Come
One, Come All... where
fragile night Egos are reflected Off
large two way graffiti mirrors to
Vanity's waiting arms... Amatuer
night- where
a farm boy will spend a Week's Wages trying
to spot A
Two-faced Trump card to
buy his new ford truck. Naive
wanna-be gamblers way over their heads- Pleased
to pass the buck into
chump change in exchange for
acceptance........fools!fools! fools! in
my head i yell- but
the pyrite's flowing from every crevice The
leagions of blue hair Zombies
crawl from towns just
like this- in
their clunketty white horse UV vehicles and
leave all out of breath- As
soon as the gas money runs out... _________ CASINO
LOGIC- Has
become as mathematical a science as any today.... The
stakes are high where millions of dollars are concerned High
stakes always demand the best minds... For
then it's no gamble it
simply takes money to enslave the
reluctant forces of mankind to
the ruination degree what
power I
feel sorry for such as them and
in feeling this way am outside the Casino logic snare- I
hope. ______________ CONFUSION Gigland-Is
filled with confusion again... Bartenders
and waitresses seeking- direction... Needing
to get their duties straight After
the game all will be in order... all
will be back to normal... gripes,
complaints, depression- and
a hungry dark void feeling
cannot survive long in this vacuum- Gigland...clutches
many dark secrets tightly
to it's greasy breast... the
exit door is faintly marked and
opens for only a few... who
then melt off like rain into the night.... As
for the rest- The
front door is loudly painted... its
welcome mat is 98 foot video screen full
of cheer leaders and cowboy singers... Sends
out its waves of brewery backed Neon to
catch next generation fresh flesh... 21
year virgins diving for new dimensions- naked- to
the dirty glass that will soon leave its groove... drunkeness
and oppression adult
ulcers and poe-like grimaces, hollow
eyed and tattered still they cheer to that which
has never made a single show here in Gigland... A
Song of Joy- The
Song of Insight and Wisdom not
often found in these murky seats. We
are like mourners who have missed a funeral and
ended up here instead... looking
for sometihing to Eat.... Sulking
in the gloom of the dead mans parlor, waiting
for entertainment like some big treat... A
massive array of screens, flashing lights, videos
and short skirted hostesses isn't
quite enough to keep our attentions- the
beautiful distractions of
this surreal world... Time
on these stages crawls along like
half hibernating beetles or snakes moving
sleepily towards instinct... Songs
grown mossy and stale and still,
frozen stares fill a pale room doeful
mental notes sketched in Smoke... The
smoke outlines our sorrows and scars but
of late - much is cleared away so
that we see even more clearly the
inherent misery of our dingy scene. the
blue lights capture the real mood- we
are seen in stained glass light of sound truth- Smiles
evaporate...raw nerves stick and
far off minds freeze up... the
music chokes on
bad notes and the glossed eyes coast the
first set dreading the longer ones ahead.... and
what remains.. A
drowning riddle-in a liquored paradise... Candle
lit lounge-reeks of dead strings and feedback ghosts. Those
Shmooze cologne stains on the carpet won't
ever come out...sad smaltzy puns Spur
of the moment unconscious humor rarely
acknowledged The
jokes inside average musician's head aren't funny... And
we never seem to even warm up these stiffs... We
need Bozo the clown for intermissions- a
pie in the face is easy to understand that
simple humor side slam to the brain The
only fires here at 9:22 pm- are
in the tubes of my 60 watt amp. smoldering
smell of beer spills...thinking back on all the ...oops...blunders you
hope, you're not doomed to repeat ...tomorrow
night...good luck... good
God where does the down time go? _____________ BOREDOM The
boredom bleeds off most emotion here like
that old medical practice of leach letting... Lack
of interest Enemy number one to
My cronies and myself. It is a cerebral disease Capable
of snuffing out all enthusiasm anywhere in a room Warning...it
spreads quickly- especially
in Jaded Southern California clubs- Avoid
them at all costs...Seek work elsewhere- Run
- don't walk - to Las Vegas? Sorry...Also
a major carrier, But more concentrated. It
seeps up from old CPA's through
Your tapping feet until all your chops are
mildewed Bill Murry lizard licks crafty
musicians can find new ways to smile- discovery
is a part of live music's spell if
the combination is willing and awake. |