Leave Me Alone, Thankyou, Bye

Obey the Graffiti

An open letter to various fuckwits and assorted psychic vampires, and to anyone else this may concern:

I don’t want to be constantly engaged in the selfish concern-trolling of others. I am not a curiosity to comment on and question. I am a creature of this earth and I have just as much right to be here, to breathe air and to take up space, as everybody else, without having to justify it. The way I choose to live my life and express myself has no bearing on who you are and the choices you make so just leave me alone as I do you. Leave me to be disconnected from your stupidity, so my stores remain full of vitality. Go be a drain on the psyche of someone else.

Teaching is my job, not my vocation. Although I am qualified for such and I get paid for it, when I clock off the uniform is shed and I am myself again. When I teach I am simultaneously acting and censoring myself and so understandably, I don’t want to do this all the time. I want to laugh and learn as well. I don’t want to constantly explain my ideologies and lifestyle choices. I don’t want to answer twenty questions about what I like and why, and what I don’t and why not. I just want to be me without having to defend what being me entails, especially when being me does not offend or trespass against you being you. I am not interested in being a light bringer or a revealer of truths. It’s not my karma, fate or destiny. I’m not arrogant enough for a messiah complex, and it doesn’t fit my skinny frame.

On that note, if you feel the need to comment on my body shape and size you would do well to examine why you think you are entitled to do so. If you have a problem with the way I look you need to realise that the problem is with yourself and your belligerence, not with the way my deoxyribonucleic acid expresses itself through my healthy lifestyle choices. As such, don’t try to pass your problem off as mine. I love myself and I am happy in the beautiful skin my parents gifted me. Just because you don’t feel the same does not give you the right to try and pull me into your self-loathing. So no, I won’t wear that either.

Further, whenever you make stupid remarks about what I choose not to eat (as if it has any effect on your happiness), you are saying more about yourself than about me. I don’t preach. I am happy with who I am and what I choose and I have no need to try and belittle others because I do things differently. To wit: everyone I meet is surprised that I am a vegan and I like it that way. In fact, if you know me, you were probably surprised too. That is because I just walk the walk and I let others talk the talk. I don’t think I’m better than anybody else; I recognise that everybody has their own journeys to live and things to learn. What I think is important is certainly not the forefront of everybody else’s concerns and I am not disillusioned enough to think so, or arrogant enough to impose my worldview onto anybody else. I just wanna do what I wanna do, if that’s okay with you?

Next on the subject of skin-deep ignorance: if you have a problem with my being a fair-skinned Koori who doesn’t look the way you mistakenly believe that Blackfellas are supposed to look as a homogenous group, then that’s also your problem. I’m sorry I don’t look the way you want me to in order confirm your outdated paradigm of what Blackfellas are supposed to look like. If you think that because I look white then therefore I am, you need to go do some reading on how long-debunked race theories have come to be dismantled as Eurocentric and Assimilationist pseudo-science. You need to understand the role of memetics in shaping culture, and that culture has for too long been misrepresented as biological race, and that biological race has no basis in true science. I know who I am. I know where I’ve come from and I know where I’m going. If, for you, what I look like clashes with the strength of my identity, I suggest that it is you who has the problem.

Similarly, if you feel the need to express your unwanted ignorance about ‘faggots and dykes’ in my earshot, then good for you. Your comments say more about you as an unevolved human than anything you intend it to. I may not ‘look’ gay or identify as gay, but I’m certainly not straight either. I’m proud to be queer. So no, I don’t find your jokes about me and mine funny or endearing; it doesn’t make me like you more that you shared an insider joke with me. However, I am glad to hear you talk this way as it just makes it easier for me to not pretend to be nice to you. Go, wave your freak flag high! Censoring doesn’t work, nor should it be encouraged. Society is benefitted when you out yourself as a fuckwit, and the world will be a better place when your backwards ideas are buried six feet under or scattered as dead ash like your remains.

I used to feign patience and act happy to explain myself, adhering to the maxim that ‘one catches more flies with honey than with vinegar’. But I’ve done my time, and it’s well nigh to retire those pretentions. Let someone else take up the mantle. If you want to learn more about any of the above topics or other themes that express themselves through your narrow perceptions of what I represent to you, go elsewhere. I am done with explaining, with my frustration thinly veiled beneath a tight-lipped smile. I’m still happy to be a mirror to reflect your asinine assumptions and attitudes, but I sure as fuck won’t let your rotten seeds take root in my verdant energy. I’m too old for this shit, and I’ve got better things to pour my precious thoughts into.

– Defender Of The Faith, 26.08.2013

UPDATE EDIT – for those who took this personally:

If you think I specifically wrote this for you, I didn’t. If you think this was written as a passive-aggressive missive to you, it wasn’t. If you think my lifetime of frustration being expressed in a public blog post is all about you and you alone, it isn’t. That being said: if you do believe that this is about you, why the guilty conscience?

Riot Grrl

Right at the end of my living in London stint I started working at Pogo Café in Hackney. I also found myself in the middle of a riot.

One of the maddogs I used to work with

It was high summer and there was no teaching work for five weeks. I had considered getting a bar job but I couldn’t bring myself to work for six quid an hour – that is not why I went to uni for four years. Anyway, I went to Pogo one night to watch a screening of Noise and Resistance and starting yarning with one of the girls who worked there. It was an all-vegan anarchist co-op – completely volunteer-run, and all profits went to paying the bills and to helping various charities. Pogo would reimburse the workers for travel to and from work, and we were also allowed a free main meal while we were on shift. I explained that I would be moving back to Australia in a month but that I could work three or four days shifts per week up until then. I do realise that I went from refusing to work a bar job because the pay was beneath me to volunteering my services for free, but…it was probably one of the best jobs I’ve ever had. I really loved working there.

Senorita Ana

Everyone I worked with was amazing in their own way, and we were all there because we wanted to be, not because we had to. I worked with people from all kinds of backgrounds. One thing we all had in common was the café and the ethics and political lifestyle implications that came from that. All of us were vegetarians of varying degrees, mostly vegan. We all supported organic farming and fair trade. We were all part of various alternative subcultures and our lifestyle choices were not compatible with the dominant society. We were all misfits and outcasts in some way, some more obviously than others. We were homo-, hetero-, bi-, a- and trans- kinds of sexual. We were old and young and everything in between. Some of us rented, others lived in co-ops, a few squatted and a couple were homeless. Some used Pogo as their sole means of working and getting a free meal every day, while others just worked out of leisure. We all used it as a social hub.

Foraging in Hackney yields sweet returns

Some of the people I worked with in that last month showed me some of the best times out of the whole time I lived in London. The time Ana from Spain and I went bike-riding through Hackney, found hidden farmland and picked buckets full of wild blackberries, then sat in a field of horses, got blazed and munged out, and talked about human circuses, punk rock and literature. The time Seba from Poland and I sat at Pogo for two hours after it closed and showed each other up in the thrash stakes on Youtube. The day I first worked with the beautiful Eva from Italy and she allowed me the privilege of watching her make mouth-watering, healthful and colourful salads out of our garden, flowers and all. The day that Jozsef from Russia Hungary and I made ten different kinds of scrumptious vegan desserts and taste tested them all. The day that Joel from Byron Bay first came into the café wearing the exact same Dangers jumper as I, and we sat and trouted about hardcore all morning. The day that Summer from LA told me she was a writer, and we read to each other bits and pieces of things we’d written over the years whilst listening to Rodriguez and Neil Young. The time Paul from Dublin introduced me to some low-down and dirty rocknroll from his hometown in the style of the Cramps. All these times were very special to me – bonding with strangers from all over the world about the things that matter the most in my life. I was sad to leave but grateful to have been a part of it. It’s something that I would like to start up here eventually, once I get tired of the academic rat race. A not-for-profit, organic vegan café that doubles as an art and music space, run by a community of like-minded and eclectic individuals that could make it greater than the sum of its parts. One day…one day…

Beauteous Hackney farmland

Anyway, you would have heard something about the England Riots of 2011. What started out as a legitimate angered response to police brutality and lies regarding the shooting of Mark Duggan turned ugly when the cops bashed a young girl in Tottenham on the Saturday night. This of course set the community raging even more so – police stations were picketed all over most of the poorer areas of London – Tottenham, Brixton, Hackney and Croydon amongst others – and full-on riots began that Sunday night and carried over for close to a week in different parts of the country. It started in these areas in London, and the High Streets were set ablaze and looters took advantage of the chaos. What could have turned into a righteous response to ongoing problem of police power tripping quickly turned scummy, and people lost their lives trying to protect the streets, their families and themselves. I witnessed the scumminess, and also the strength, of some of these people firsthand as I went into Pogo on that Monday afternoon. Here is an excerpt from my journal that evening:

<beginning of entry>

Monday, 8th of August, 2011

I just found myself in a pretty fucking intense situation. I went to go and watch a movie at Pogo; I left home early because I wanted to chill and have a feed at the café beforehand. There was a report that Hackney Central station was closed because of the riots yesterday, as was Brixton tube, so I took a train from Tulse Hill to St Pancras, then a tube from King’s Cross to Highbury and Islington, and then the overground towards Homerton, where I was going to get off and walk, but the train ended up stopping at Hackney Central anyway. That was a fucking mission!

As soon as I got out of the station shit was weird. Riot cops had shut off the ramp and directed us down the stairs towards Amherst Road. Across the road, there were about thirty people gathered in the square – some masked or scarfed over, but most brave-faced. Something was being anticipated. You could see it in the way everyone was shuffling their feet, hands in pockets or clutching drink bottles, eyes flicking in a 360° vista, placing themselves in relation to everyone else. Always feeling safer amongst my own and wary of the real bad guys, I stood amongst this crew and looked to the right, toward the ramp of the station. Four riot cops stood, blocking the way of the nobodies trying (yet) to get through.

I took my headphones out – I realised I would need to be catlike and alert to be safe – and that’s when I noticed the unholy noise of drone and doom from the sky. I usually love that shit but hearing it live and not at a gig is fucking unsettling. I counted four black choppers in my direct vicinity and a few more scattered further away and hovering in and out of sight. This shit was serious.

Well, no way was I going to get onto Mare Road where I usually walked to the café. As I walked north along Amherst Road to go the long way towards Dalston Lane, I could see through the alleyways on my right that Mare Road was blocked off – the cops clearly anticipated that rioters would be looting the shit out of those swanky High Street stores. Thing is, for all of their armour and batons and weapons, I could see even at this early stage that the cops were outnumbered at least four to one and this isn’t even the intense part yet. I kept walking along the strangely silent street, overdubbed with the sound of the blades spinning overhead. I got to Kenmure Road which is a side access to Mare Road and walked up to one of the cops blocking the way in.

“Hey mate, I need to get to Clarence Street,” I said.

“Where’s that?” he asked.

“Well usually I walk straight up here and past the estate, up that street.”

“Well that’s all blocked off, you’re best to walk up and around and then you’d have to go through the estate, but I would advise against walking through there by yourself.”

“Are you talking about Pembury Annex on the corner? Like, don’t go through there?” I asked, not sure of what he was telling me to do.

“Yeah. Stay away from the estate.”

“Why’s that? No, don’t worry. I know exactly why. I’ll sort something out.”

“Righto,” he said.

“Racist cunt,” I thought. “You think I’m one of you and so you’re trying to point out false boogeymen in the places where the brown and poor live. Well, I am brown and poor, and the only people on this earth that scare me in situations like this are white men in uniforms.”

I walked back down the way, debating whether to walk up to Homerton and jump on a train home, or just go around the long way to Pogo. “Fuck it, I’ve come all this way, may as well have a go.” As I kept walking I noticed a tall young man fall into step beside me.

“Hello, are you going through Pembury?” he asked in a heavy Eastern European accent.

“Yeah, are you?”

“Yes, I have to meet my friends up the road. I can walk with you if you like.”

“Yeah thanks. What’s your name?”

“Mikael.”

“I’m ‘Dot’. Where are you from?”

As we got yarning, I learnt that this young man was from Romania, and had just lost his job at a construction company. He’d been living in London for nine months, in Hackney, and wasn’t educated past Year 10, making it really hard for him to get work.

“How old are you?” he asked, peering sideways into my face.

“Too old for you love!” I joked.

“No, you’re only about twenty-one or twenty-two,” he argued.

“Actually I’m nearly twenty-seven mate,” I laughed.

“Oh! Oh okay. You look like a kid still. How old do you think I am?”

“I don’t know. I don’t like these games.”

“Just guess.”

I turned and smiled at him. “Sixteen?”

“No, of course not,” he puffed, his manly pride clearly hurt, “I’m twenty-three.”

“Still too young darlin’.”

After a minute or so he asked me: “What makes you feel crazy?”

Unsure of what he meant, I asked him to elaborate. He wanted to know the things that made my blood heat up, that made my toes tingle, that gave me butterflies, that made me smile secretly. He wasn’t being smutty, and this was one of those interesting conversations that punctuates the mostly banal exchanges I have come to expect from strangers in London. No shit, I have been told too many times to count that I was the most interesting person that some people had ever met, and it made me sad because there are millions more interesting than me out there. This is what I crave – chaos, unfamiliarity, that which creates friction and so, growth. I am glad that I gave that young man the time of day. Anyway, back to the conversation.

“This,” I said, “this is what gives me butterflies – connections, warmth, belonging. Throwing a net out in the vast and overpopulated ocean, not to catch a multitude but just one or two special, rare and willing finds.” Not sure he wouldn’t take that as encouragement, I added to distract him, but no less honestly: “When I talk to and when I think about the person that I love, I feel a thousand times happier than I did before.”

“Mmm. This is a nice answer. I like it. Would you like to have a drink with me later?”

“No, I don’t drink.”

“What about a coffee then?”

“Look, I don’t want to give you the wrong idea about me. I’m not interested in anything romantic.”

“That’s okay, I understand. Somebody is very lucky to have your heart,” he said sweetly.

I smiled, and thanked him, and wondered how accurate that statement really was.

We turned the corner and stopped, taking in the sight of burning bins on the rubbish strewn northern end of Clarence Road; hundreds of people, mostly masked and hooded, gathered around, sporadically visible through the black smoke of burning plastic and rubber, which moved through the air around us in zigzags, pushed this way and that by the helicopters chopping into the ether just above us. Mikael suddenly put his arm across my chest and pushed me back as something flew past us and glass smashed on the wall next to my face.

“Holy shit! Thankyou! There’s no way I’m going into work tonight.” I stared all around me. Mikael grabbed my hand and offered to walk me through.

“No, I think I’ll just go home. Thankyou anyway, and good luck!”

“So I can’t see you again?”

“Look, I think not. I’m moving back to Australia soon. But please, stay sweet. Its very refreshing.”

We hugged, then I smiled at him and walked away past a young woman and man putting out a council bin fire and moving it off the road. An older man was heckling them. The young woman had enough, stood up and looked him in the eye.

“You know what Uncle? My mum and baby brother need to drive home very soon. We live here, this is our street. So I’ll just clean up your mess Uncle, and you respect my family in turn.” Chastised, he let them be and wandered into the crowd, muttering to himself. I hope that strong young girl’s family got home safe and sound.

I wanted to walk north through the park of Hackney Downs, but was loathe to pull out my work smartphone in the middle of this, to check out my direction, which lines were down, and the best way to get back south without putting myself in any dangerous situations.

There was a pub nearby, and I went in to the toilet and pulled the phone out to check where the closest open station was. Satisfied with my orienteering skills, I went out into the bar for a few minutes. The pub was packed, all patrons with pints in their hands, staring at the news on the flatscreen. They were watching news of the riots in Hackney, when they could well have just looked outside for a flesh and blood update.

“Fuck this flatscreen culture,” I thought. “Hyperreality sucks everyone in.”

I walked through the community orchard, and the apocalyptic doomsday atmosphere got under my skin. There were random packs of other humans, and I was a lone wolf, a female, and very fucking thankful that I dress like a teenage boy in times like this. I pulled my hood over my face and my scarf up where my beard would be if I’d had a Y chromosome. I wasn’t hassled the whole way home – I kept to myself and stayed alert.

I caught a train from Rectory Road to Seven Sisters, and then into Camden Town. I treated myself to a nice dinner at Inspiral Café, and sat and wrote and people-watched. I caught a few more trains to get back, sticking to the peripheries of the city itself, giving wide berth to the hotspots. It was a long and winding road home, going around the tedious way, narrowly avoiding some crazy shop fires and opportunistic looting in the centre of Brixton, but I eventually got home safe and sound. I’m glad I didn’t get caught up in anything gnarlier!

London’s burning?! Camden Lock, Monday night of the riots.

<end of entry>

The next day I spoke to some of the Pogo crew. They had locked the café and watched the rioting from inside. Some of the photos they took were pretty full on. There was a car upended in front of the shop and set alight. It gave off so much heat that the front window of the shop cracked! A few shops down the street were looted and destroyed. We started up a fund straightaway to help our neighbours. It was rad to see everybody lending a hand.

Delicious Pogo food

Anyway, that was my experience of arson, stealth and romance in the London Riots of August 2011. Namaste.

Defender Of The Faith,  20.11.12

Power Serj

I had a yarn with Serj Tankian a few years ago, for Australian Hysteria Magazine. I’m still pumped on it. It went a little something like this:

Photo credit unknown

 

Hello…hello?

Hi ‘Dot’!

 

Hi! How are you Serj?

Good! How are you today?

 

I’m alright mate. What are you up to?

Oh, just been working all day, out at the house in Los Angeles…besides interviews doing some, y’know, phone calls and all that good stuff…not a bad day.

 

Cool…sounds good.

I didn’t have to drive into the city…

 

Yeah…that’s always a bonus…

What about you? How’s your day going?

 

Oh not bad…I’m just trying to do this, and I’m on holidays so I’m enjoying that…

Cool! Enjoy…

 

Oh I will! So, I have a question. You have evolved such an eclectic and somewhat mellower style these days. Do you still have that manic metal maniac inside of you?

The manic metal maniac? (laughs) You know, at times I do, but to be honest with you I’ve never fully identified myself with one type or genre of music or anything that goes along with it, you know? When we first started people used to call System Of A Down a “metal band” and then later they’d call us a “nu-metal band” and then they started calling us a “rock band” and then an “Armenian-American political schizophrenic band”. You name it, we’ve been called everything and after a while you know, it’s like, either you continue making the same type of music and sticking to that category which is totally cool, or you can kind of just evolve as an artist and do what you’re supposed to do and let everyone else figure out what that moniker should be.

 

I’ve been listening to you throughout the years in all your various projects and the thing that strikes me the most is the way I still feel. On one hand, whether it’s with System Of A Down or your solo stuff, your music feels so soothing almost, but also instils in me a deep sense of anxiety. You mentioned the word schizophrenic before and I think that’s what your music is in the truest sense of the word; I usually feel like headbanging and pirouetting simultaneously.

(Laughs) Pirouetting, I like that, that’s awesome. That’s a good combination there. That’s what we’re talking about, the diversity of emotions, and the diversity of actions, and you know, the diversity of the music that complements it. Why not break the door down with an orchestra instead of an electric guitar and then end it with a clean acoustic guitar or something like that? There are no rules here. They’re not for us.

 

There are so many layers to your music, every time I listen I find something new and it’s nice to get lost in that kind of music for a change. Instead of spoon-feeding us, you take our minds for a walk – for some exercise, if you will.

Yeah, I’m with that too. Some of my favourite records are ones where I put it on and there’s something really compelling about it but I can’t put my finger on it and my mind doesn’t define it immediately. It’s not easily digestible, so I have to go back and listen and listen and listen and every time I listen I find something new in it. It’s like it takes me on a journey, it makes me feel different than any other record. I think those are the records we keep on going back to, and [Imperfect Harmonies] is such a record and I have to say that it definitely takes you on a ride.

 

You seem really contemptuous of the power that religious institutions wield, not so much of the spirituality itself, and you refer to Darwin and scientific themes – would you call yourself an atheist or do you “believe”, or are you not sure, or isn’t that important?

I wouldn’t consider myself an atheist because I believe that everything is connected, whatever you want to give that name. I like calling it the Spirit-That-Moves-Through-All-Things. But I mean you can give it any name you want. But at the same time I don’t believe in the typecast god of the Judeo-Christian faith. I don’t know where that lands in that spectrum.

 

Maybe it’s too important to be classified in that way.

Yeah.

 

It’s hard to tell whether you’re deriding or revering the idea of god. Can you talk a little bit about how you feel, or how you’ve changed in this sense?

The idea of god?

 

With the idea of god, in your lyrics, it’s so hard to tell whether you’re mocking that idea or if you have reverence for it…

Probably both. I personally don’t like the word ‘god’ just because it’s so abused. People have done so many horrible and nasty things in the name of god from all religions. So I have a hard time identifying with the word god. I like the Native American term much better – the Spirit-That-Moves-Through-All-Things, coupled with the Creator – it’s two different things. It’s a more balanced energy. It’s a different way of looking at things and if you look at what that means it says so much more than ‘G.O.D’, you know? So I think that there are a lot of things lost within modern religion because all organised modern religions were created within the city of civilisation, and therefore they all only know one type of existence. They were all created in the last ten thousand years, not over millions of years. Whereas indigenous religions were before that, and I think our indigenous past and our spirituality from our indigenous past contain the intuitive secrets of our existence that we have forgotten, and now we’re trying to relearn them through science, through logical means, through quantum theory, etcetera, which is fine, if we can only combine those two energies – the intuitive wisdom of the past and the kind of logical/technological strength of the present – we could really not just survive on this planet, but definitely make our home a better place.

 

That sounds exactly the way your music is, and it’s in those themes of nature and also that really high-tech futuristic stuff and the marriage of them. When you talk about ancient religions, not so much religion but spirituality, I suppose [I can identify with] that Native American spirituality. I’m from Australia and I’m an Aboriginal woman and there are so many similarities in these cultures, in the way we hold the Earth for example.

Absolutely. You know, for years I did informal studies on indigenous cultures including Aboriginal people, the Maoris, the Native Americans, and other different kinds of tribes and what I came up with is that because they were all nature-based cultures, they all contain a lot of the same truths without necessarily being in physical contact with each other.

 

Not a dogmatic truth, but a more interchangeable truth.

A universal truth.

 

For a lot of indigenous people around the world, those exact ways that our Elders knew are lost because a lot of our Elders didn’t get to pass that knowledge on. With music such as yours, it’s ecstatic; it doesn’t have rules, and it’s almost like we’re finding our way back.

That’s interesting…yeah…I think it’s important. This record for example has both classic elements that make it feel like it’s an olde worlde record and it also has very modern elements with the electronics and the kind of new touches and tastes. I think that it plays on that balance, you know? It’s quite interesting.

 

Yeah…it’s full of contradictions and counterpoints; from the title, to the suit you wear on the cover, to all the different musical styles going through the album. It’s an amazing balance that you’ve created, almost on the edge of a knife.

Thankyou. It points itself that way. (laughs) You know, you reminded me of something. Years ago, the indigenous Hawaiians, before a child was born, the women used to go into the forest and they used to sing a song for the child. They used to try and figure out what song that child had. Every child was connected to a song. That’s really beautiful, I think there’s something really beautiful about that; I mean, names are okay but I think to have a song representing you and that being your song from the day that you are born until the day that you die is quite special. If they ever wanted to punish someone for doing something harmful, if someone for instance stole something, they wouldn’t punish them physically, they would literally put that person in the centre of the village and go around him and they would all sing that person’s song and remind that person of who he is. Very powerful.

 

Almost like a sonic totem…

Yeah! Uhuh…yeah.

 

It sounds very interesting…I mean I don’t know much about the Pacific Island cultures but it sounds like something I’d like to look into more…I heard you became a vegetarian a few years ago, why not vegan?

I became vege in ‘98 when we first started touring with System because the food was so crappy on tour. Plus I think my body was starting to change, I was hitting my late 20’s/early 30’s at the time and so it was not just a conscious decision of mind but also my body. My body felt better with a lighter fare. Right now I’m actually a Pescetarian. I do eat fish, but I don’t eat any other meat, just veggies and fish. Why didn’t I do vegan? To a certain point I was vegan, there were points where I cut out dairy for a while and then it came back. Dairy never bothered me so much, I’ve never been lactose intolerant or anything. It’s a personal choice.

 

What kind of activism have you been involved with for the fight of animal rights? Or has it been more of a solo stance?

I’ve been involved with a few campaigns with PETA and some other organisations. You know I’ve been involved in so many different causes from Labour rights to genocide recognition – so many different things. Mostly to have anything to do with animal rights I’m more of an advocate than an activist. I haven’t gotten as involved as some people who have put their money where their mouth is for that cause.

 

I was reading a little bit about this museum project on your website and it sounds like a psychedelic feast for the senses! It sounds rad.

(Laughs) It’s still in fruition. We’re still kind of writing everything out and coming up with interesting exhibitions, single exhibition concepts around a whole museum theory. It’s gonna be quite interesting, it’s gonna be very dramatic and theatrical, and it’s also going to be very interactive. It’s going to interact with a lot of your physical senses and the goal is to reach the beyond. In fact, we’re thinking of calling it ‘The Beyond’. It’s something we’re going to start with one city, probably Los Angeles since it’s easier for us to do stuff here, and then go on from there and hopefully it does well and we can tour it to different cities. You know, it’s a way of having an exhibit that’s got complete musical scoring sound, and interact with your vision, your touch, your sense, your smell, even your taste. We want to give out a piece of something in front of each of the exhibits so you walk in with a taste in your mouth.

 

(Record label chick: “Okay last question, you’re time’s nearly up”)

 

Your label, Serjical Strike Records, supports new artists who probably wouldn’t be given a chance by other labels. Who are some new bands that we should be listening to?

There’s a band called Viza, and you can find them on myspace.com/visa, they haven’t changed their name, they used to be called Visa, like the credit card. They’re really interesting. I took them on tour in Europe and I helped them finish their record and they’re quite a unique kind of punk rock mixed with Mediterranean and Eastern European influences. They’re also very funny and kind of have this old school communist sound and it’s just a very unique entity, so I think they’re really cool. Fair to Midland is making their second record. We’re finishing up a distribution deal for their second record right now. That’s really it happening. We’re focusing a lot of our efforts on my projects, as there are so many of them right now.

 

You’re a busy dude!

Yeah, definitely.

 

Well thankyou a thousandfold.

My pleasure! Thankyou. That was a great interview. I loved your questions.

 

That was actually my first interview ever.

No shit!

 

No shit.

Wow. Cool, well youre in the right place. You didn’t ask the typical stuff, and you allowed us to kinda get out of the kinda regular music questions and kind of really think about things and you know, learn from each other in our conversation, so I appreciate that.

 

Thankyou. I appreciate it too. I hope you have a wonderful day.

Thanks! You too.

 

Thanks man, bye.

Bye-bye.