Wednesday, June 23, 2010
I reserve the right to get angry. I reserve the right to speak passionately about music. I am within my rights to speak hard to my fellow musicians in the name of making the music better. Where did all the passion go anyway? What happened to loving music outwardly and being vocal about love and passion? Where did the energy go? My music is real and my music will bite your fucking face off. This music should be loud. This music should be irresistible. This music should be a privilege to play and every moment we’re in it we should cherish it. I reserve the right to shout about it. I reserve the right to shut the entire thing down if it’s not to my standard. This is our name. What does our name say about us? What does our music say? Are we plastic pussy-assed dipshits? Or are we going to grab this shit by the throat and fuck it ‘till it’s dead? It was like this - in the beginning. Where did all the passion go? How could you forget something like this? How can anything so pure become so corrupt? I reserve the right to drag this shit up again. I am within my rights get angry. I am within my rights to speak passionately.