Posts Tagged Pro-Pain
An unInterview With Gary Meskil From Pro-Pain That Didn’t Really Take Place After I Was Beaten At Shoprite
Posted by Keith Spillett in People Who Were Willing To Speak To Me on June 8, 2015
If I could be anyone when I grow up, it would be Gary Meskil from Pro-Pain. I have an unhealthy fascination with the man’s work. The band has several thousand albums and I have memorized every detail about every one of them.
You can imagine my surprise when I ran into him in a Shoprite in Passaic, New Jersey. He was buying turnips. I was so overcome with joy that I began leaping up and down and shouting. I attempted to hug Mr. Meskil when a store security guard, who erroneously believed I was trying to assault him, hit me over the head with a billyclub. I lost consciousness.
When I awoke, I was in a hospital room. Gary was standing there with my family looking extremely concerned holding a Whitman’s Sampler and a card that said “Get Well Soon, Champ!” on the front. I began asking him questions…
Me: I saw the band play back in 1992 when “Foul Taste of Freedom” had just come out. One of my favorite shows ever. It was in a Guido bar in New Rochelle, New York called Marty and Lenny’s that occasionally did metal shows under the equally awful name “The Rocker Room”. I was a skinny high school kid with a Gabe Kaplan from “Welcome Back, Kotter” looking Afro. I was wearing an Immolation shirt. How would you rate my performance in the pit that night?
Gary: I would give it the highest of scores. A perfect 10! Aerodynamic haircuts are timeless and seem to be quite practical in and out of the confines of the pit. The spherical shape obviously aides in getting to the forefront of the circle pit and also in eluding certain rough and tumble types. The Gabe Kaplan cut was a good one! Add an Immolation T-shirt and you have a perfect score!
Me In High School
Me: Was Johnny Black a real guy or is that a made up story?
Gary: It’s a true story, but I made it vague enough so that the fans could relate to it via their own story. It’s generally about a modern day James Dean type. Someone whom we all looked up to “way back when”. Then as the years went by, everyone and everything seemed to change around him, yet he stayed exactly the same. As a result, those who once idolized him suddenly frowned upon him. He died young, and I was inspired to write about my observations of people who lose their inner child as they grow older. Suddenly everything becomes shallow and forced, with talks about the weather and such. I admire people who have the guts to always be themselves.
Possibly The Only Person On Earth Who Could Wear A Polo Shirt At A Metal Concert And Look Cool
Me: You have an incredibly powerful, distinctive voice. Have you ever ended up in a public situation where a used car salesman or some other idiot is jerking you around and all of a sudden you change your voice like in “Johnny Black” and scare the hell out of them?
Gary: That’s a great idea, but I can’t recall ever vocally changing gears like that as a fear tactic in public. However, as a father it came in quite handy sometimes to use my “stage voice”, since I’m in favor of sparing the rod.
Me: (in a serious voice) A running theme in your music is a weariness and frustration with American military adventurism. From “Iraqnophobia” to “To Never Return” (a song I believe to be one of the most passionate indictments of US foreign policy ever put to music), you have railed against the government’s choice of wars. Do you see anyway for the United States to, at this point, extract ourselves from decisions driven by the military-industrial complex or are we pretty much stuck playing that hand until Armageddon or revolution?
Gary: It’s pretty idealistic to think that war is somehow not perpetual. That is indeed how insane the world is. There seems to be a disharmony between humans and nature. Perhaps we are alien to this Earth. The wars and occupations will continue as long as at least half of the citizens of the occupying country are somehow convinced that it is necessary. The world desperately needs more tolerance and less ignorance.
Me: You have done some interesting experimenting with your sound over the years. Have you ever thought of doing a really freaky, out-there Pro-Pain album? Maybe a mix of thrash, hardcore, gospel, and Bangladeshi folk music. Or something in that vain?
Gary: That would be interesting, if nothing else. I think there are bands out there who experiment to the extreme in that regard. System Of A Down comes to mind. They use their influences really well, in my opinion. With Pro-Pain, there have been quite a few exploratory moments over the years, and more than we are given credit for (I’m sure). We used 808 samples (now called bass drops) in 92’, we had trumpets on our debut , a sax solo and Ice-T duet in 95’, horn sections on various songs, melodic vocals, and lots of guitar wizardry….yet some still categorize us as just a hardcore band.
Here Is Gary. He’s Actually Flying.
Me: I’m in the Pro-Pain Army on Facebook. Is there any chance we could go to war with the Kiss Army? We could invade the makeup aisle at Target or something. Go after anyone who has whiskers painted on them. What do you say?
Gary: Sounds like a plan, (and good PR). We might be outnumbered, but their Love Guns are no match for our PRO-PAIN Tanks!
Me: What do you think the greatest film ever made is?
Gary: The Wonderful Wizard Of Oz
Me: Really? Why?
Gary: Because it was beautiful on it’s face, ugly inside, and was magically and majestically presented on the big screen circa 1939. To this day, there is still so much room for all kinds of interpretation (political and otherwise). Fascinating stuff!
Me: Once I was hanging out with a bunch of serious hip-hop heads that were all freestyling rap lyrics. Everybody sounded really good and I was nervous because I can’t freestyle for my life. Each guy did a verse. They were making fun of me because they didn’t think I could rap. Luckily, I knew “Pound for Pound” by heart and none of them listened to metal. I jumped up and did the whole song. They all looked at me in stunned silence and acted like I was some sort of genius. I pretended I made the lyrics up and they all thought I was cool from that point on. I’ve always felt guilty for passing your work off as my own. You’re not angry, are you?
Gary: No. It must have happened some time ago though, because “Pound For Pound” is now required learning in most urban schools around the country. The class is called Street Cred 101.
Me: (at this point, I dramatically grabbed his hand…I think it made him horribly uncomfortable, but I wanted to convey the importance of what I was about to say) Promise me you’ll never stop making Pro-Pain albums. EVER! I want your word on this.
Gary: Define EVER. My word is that I’ll keep making PRO-PAIN albums as long as I’m ABLE. (see ABLE under definitions).
Definitions:
ABLE: See EVER
Me: (I look away from Gary and directly into the eyes of YOU, the audience) They have a new album coming out this month. It is called “Voice Of Rebellion”. You need to buy multiple copies of it and give it to all of your family members and friends. If you do not buy at least five copies, hundreds of bees will attack you when you are not expecting it. Like, when you are sleeping. Or, on an airplane.
I’m Not Kidding About The Bees
Public Amused By Anything; Dies In A Fire
Posted by Keith Spillett in The Poetry of Death on April 24, 2013
In the future, people will only communicate with each other using Top 10 lists. Progress in the name of progress for the sake of progress will render all other forms of communication meaningless. We will engage in the illusion of order until our planet is completely overrun by humans that are well armed, in peek physical condition and filled with a snarling, vengeful hatred towards one another. Then, some shocking and terrible catastrophe will take place and lots of people will write Top 10 lists about how awful it was and how sorry they are. And they will be forgiven in order to do the same thing again. Here’s my list…
1. You’d kill anything with a heartbeat. You just like having other people do it for you. No blood on your hands. Very clean. If you can put ketchup on it, chances are, you don’t care. Tell me again about how you love the unborn, but you want to own a weapon that could flay the skin off of a buffalo from the distance of ten football fields. Tell me about how people in far away places matter, but the idiot who just cut you off in traffic should burst into flames. A fetus, presented neatly on a plate with a neatly arranged side of rice pilaf and a sprig of parsley, would present you with a nearly impossible ethical dilemma.
2. Everything is terrible. Acting like this world is anything but a madhouse should be a criminal offense. Those who send greeting cards should be put in front of a firing squad. Those who pretend to find meaning in life should be hanged. If you are not disgusted by the basic perimeters of life, you are wildly disengaged from the events going on around you. You are a product of a planet gone completely insane.
3. You are the problem. If you look at all of the problems in your life, you are the common factor. There are no outside factors or extenuating circumstances. You are both victim and victimizer in all cases. You created God in your image in order to cause your own suffering and give meaning to your world. There is nothing outside of you except for more you. If you ever noticed the depth of it, you’d drown.
4. Breakfast is the most important meal of the day. People who don’t eat breakfast are demented and spiritually compromised. They all should be punished. They are the problem. If you speak to them, they will infect you. If they are not dealt with, the human race will sink into a spiritual vacuum and mankind will slowly die a moral death.
5. 9 out of 10 dentists are simply trying to feed their kids. Experts are unreliable shills who offer nothing but reaffirmation of a world bereft of anything that could even remotely be considered human. They have been compromised by a system that rewards blind allegiance, conformity and drooling stupidity. They are afraid to be the one dentist who thinks the other dentists are morons. They are compensated well for their crimes and their children grow up to be happy and healthy robots only slightly more disgraceful than their parents.
The horrible truth is that the one dentist who disagrees doesn’t even really exist. He is a creation of some marketing executive who understands that 9 out of 10 is more believable than 10 out of 10. If he actually does exist, his views have been streamlined in order to create bigger and more inclusive slaughterhouse of a world. Any dentist fit to look at the teeth of a human being wouldn’t even take part in this sort of a carnival. And what kind of fool would trust a dentist anyway?
6. You are waiting for me to talk about you specifically. Sure, all this railing against the world is entertaining, but when is this weird fellow going to say something that applies to me. Or separates me from the rest of the fools he’s talking about. Or takes me into his arms and offers me forgiveness. I’m not that awful. I belong to a neighborhood association and I fought hard to make sure that no retaining wall obstructs the view of trees from the highway. I laugh at all the jokes I’m supposed to get and cry when I receive the appropriate cues. I am in conspiracy with this jerk and he’s not going to offer me absolution. The hell with him. I’ll never read him again and unsubscribe from his blog.
7. Who are you to tell me I’m a fraud? You are just as pointless as me, Cowboy. Being a guy with an Internet site doesn’t make you interesting. How dare you point out my faults without accepting your own? This is self-indulgent drivel. You are a pretentious fraud who couldn’t think of a dumb metal parody for this week, so now you are picking on strangers. This isn’t funny anymore.
Most of the others have stopped reading and gone on to find more cute pictures of cats or something to prove once and for all that Obama is a Marxist or that Rush Limbaugh is a pill-popping degenerate. (Here’s the part where you insert the cliché about “wanting your two minutes back” in order to remind your audience that you know all the things that smart people are supposed to say in these circumstances. Go ahead. Someone will nod approvingly and laugh).
8. This article is a complete waste of time. Jesus, haven’t you outgrown the “meta-” stuff already? Most writers go through this phase then move on to writing something worth reading. It’s something that people tend to outgrow in their early 20’s. Like cartoons. Nobody really likes this style of writing; they just act like they get it when you are around so you don’t get your feelings hurt. Time is running short. Your coming up on a thousand words now, Tough Guy. Better find something worth saying
9. Pro-Pain is a vastly underrated band. They have 13 or so albums and almost every one has a great song or ten. I’ve listened to Foul Taste of Freedom almost 50 times in the past week alone. I would love to live in a society where the only form of currency were Pro-Pain albums. Two “Shreds of Dignity(s)” could buy you a goat. Five “Fistful of Hate(s)” would get you a horse. 15 acres of arable farmland? That’ll be 12 “Straight To The Dome(s)”. And on and on.
10. Spleens are not food. I think this one is pretty self-explanatory. I’m going to go look in on my fantasy football team now.
The Tyranny of Tradition 