Thursday, September 30, 2010
A Letter Of Love And Rememberance To GG Allin
It's been over a decade since you passed from the large intestine of life and you are sorely missed, well by me at least. You were way more hardcore than Henry Rollins or Iggy. Marilyn Manson is a poser. You were the real deal. You were Alice Cooper's younger brother who escaped from the mental institution by chewing threw the straight jacket and the iron bars. Before Lady Gaga and her "Little Monsters" there was you. GG, you were scarier in your torn jeans, tats, bare chest and shaved head than any haute couture nightmare La Gaga could hope to wear. GG, you were the true Madman of Rock and Roll. A title that you wore proudly, along with the blood and feces. In five simple words: You. Didn't Give. A. Fuck. Oh GG, I remember the first time I saw you. Not in person. I read about you in some pulpy Rolling Stone-Spin wannabe rag. The article read like a police blotter, detailing your most recent performance and the carnage that ensued. I've never heard of a performer who would take a crap on stage until you. Spitting is one thing but shitting is a totally different animal. I'll admit I was pretty shocked by your antics but also extremely intrigued. Later that night, all I could do was talk about you to my family and friends. These conversations usually ended when I got to the crapping part, but you and your antics blazed a big hole in my mind and heart. GG, I truly admire that you had the balls to do some truly crazy, deranged fucked-up shit (pun intended) in the name of Rock and Roll. You've said that Rock and Roll is about freedom and it is. Freedom to sing about war and peace. Freedom to sing about God and the Devil. Freedom to sing about that person you want to screw or the person who screwed you over. Freedom to take a crap on stage. More importantly, Rock and Roll is supposed to be dangerous - the reason why Elvis was shown on TV from the waist up. GG, I get it, which probably makes me crazy too. But like you, I. Don't. Give. A. Fuck. Since you've been gone, With music acts like Nickelback and Panic at the Disco, Rock and Roll is as dangerous as a toothless eunuch. Some folks are relieved that you are not around but I'm not. If you ask me, you were our last chance at putting the shock back into Rock.