Thursday, 16 July 2009

Fuck

Alright gang.
It's been a long time since I've posted on here.
I've got a young family now, and as such it's been a bit of a big ask for me to sit down and write a big post about stuff.

But anyway, enough about me.

I first got into the Misfits at the end of the eighties, and yes, it was through Metallica covering them.
It was a combination of that and Cliff Burtun's unwavering dedication to them that first got me interested.

Would you believe, in these days of website galleries and instant discography downloads that I was a fan of them for a good four years before I saw a photograph of them, as all my music was on cassettes dubbed from friends? for years it was a case of "x's mate y is into the Misfits, maybe he has Legacy of Brutality?" but it would always turn out that all he ever had was a copy of Collection and wasn't a bit bothered about getting anything else.

It was the ultimate egg hunt.
I can remember one of my mates getting a copy of Walk Among Us and leaving a message with my mother that he had it and I was to go to his place immediately. It was two days before she gave me the message, and when I got there he had waited for me to arrive to listen to it, such was the importance of this fiftieth generation tape. Thinking about that in this age of downloads makes me smile... we spent all summer listening to that tape.
That's how I remember it anyway.
I spent years, and years, being the only Misfits fan I knew, before bumping into a few more along the way (Hails Skum, Barry and eventually SJW!) but they were still utlra-underground; the Dream Death or Tormentor of their day. During that time, as a ridiculously under aged sixteen year old, I got the Crimson Ghost tattooed on my right arm like Cliff Burton.
Then something happened.
Jerry Only decided he was going to tour under the name, and we heard they were playing two nights in Liverpool.
Two nights? after twenty years of waiting we were gonna get to see the Misfits on two consecutive nights!!!
I guess we should have got an idea of what was going to happen as soon as we arrived on the first night, grubby tickets that had been pawed and amazed at for weeks before in hand.
There were so many people there.
For a band that we had to work for around five or six years at to get hold of their back catalogue, there were a LOT of people there. And they...well...they weren't like us.
They were, I suppose, what we'd call Emos now, but of course there was no distinction then.
Being whe it was, we did the whole fanboy thing of getting our photo taken with Jerry and Dez Cadena (he was in BLACK FLAG FFS!!!) and loved the show. Shit, on the second night I got up and sang Rise Above with them. Imagine, boyhood fan sings Black Flag song with the Misifits... total dream come true.

I paid £8 that I didn't have to join the Fiend Club....and never ever heard back from them.
Thanks guys, i was on the dole. That was a third of that week's allowance.

Fuck it. Now, when I think of the Misfits, I don't think of those special days when we'd finally procure a tape we didn't have and listen to it for weeks. I don't think about feeling boss getting my tattoo. I don't even think about how fucking amazing it felt getting onstage and singing with them.
I think about people who bought into it after the reunion, buying Misfits fridge magnets and shoelaces.
Goth kids in fingerless bone-patterned gloves.
I think Kong at the Gates.
I think I got ripped off for one weeks food money by my childhood heroes.
I blame you, Jerry Only.

(PS...we went back. Years later. Nothing had changed.)

**UPDATE**
After I posted this, I got a text message from the person whose opinion about music means the most to me in the whole world. It said "The Misfits meant being alone. And not being cool. And loving it"; which I think sums it up brilliantly)

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