Had to leave Mexico. No more friends there. Enemies multiplying. Apparently my former recording engineer (Mexican) had some ominous associates. I thought I could demean him as means for musical inspiration, but I was wrong. At face value he seemed like the most non-threatening chap, least of all physically (he’s a midget). Apparently, he didn’t take to well to being forced to enter my barn/studio on all fours through a doggy door as a circus-like jingle played. He sought to exact vengeance swiftly and surely. To make a long story short, I had to leave Mexico.
After being on the streets of Monterey, Mexico for three weeks or so, I developed a contact; who shall remain nameless, and I was led hear.
Santa Ana, CA.
After nearly ten years, and ten thousand dollars, I have returned to my native land, California, although I don’t quite remember it this way.
The streets are dirty, gutters lined with cheap trash and filth-ridden dollar store bags. Spanish is a necessity here, and brown dirt-covered skin is preferred. Ninety percent of the people here are as illegal as suitcase full of grenades. Yet, the place has a craggy charm. Take my new studio for instance.
A mansion built in the late 1800s. Perfect.
Shortly after I arrived I regained access to my US funds. With it I bought the house and assembled my studio. Unfortunately, all recordings from my recent Mexico sessions have been lost. I’m forced to start from scratch. Don’t fret my friends, I’ve purchased all the necessary wares (instruments, drugs) to realize this new ambitious solo project. And so it begins, starting from nothing; I hope it ends the same way.
This entry is the first part in a bi-weekly series that will run until Kissinger’s Nightmare releases his new solo album. To stay in the know, follow us via all the usual places.