Jr. Greene - This music leaves stains the complete story of the Misfits

James Greene Jr.

THE SCARECROW PRESS, INC.

Lanham Toronto Plymouth, UK

2013

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Greene, James, Jr., 1979

This music leaves stains : the complete story of the Misfits / James R. Greene Jr.

p. cm.

Includes bibliographical references and index.

ISBN 978-0-8108-8437-3 (cloth : alk. paper) ISBN 978-0-8108-8438-0 (ebook) 1. Misfits (Musical group) 2. Punk rock musiciansUnited StatesBiography. I. Title.

ML421.M576G74 2013

782.42166092'2dc23

[B] 2012042761

The paper used in this publication meets the minimum requirements of American National Standard for Information Sciences Permanence of Paper for Printed Library Materials, ANSI/NISO Z39.48-1992.

Printed in the United States of America

For Theodora and James Sr.

A sincere and heartfelt thank-you to every person who agreed to be interviewed for this book. Though some ultimately had to be excised from the final pages, every single one of your stories, knowledge, and remembrances helped shape the narrative considerably. I am greatly indebted to you all.

Thank you also to every person who did not agree to be interviewed for this book but conveyed their response in a polite, mannered way that also expressed support and the best of luck with this project. In an age where it is incredibly easy and generally more convenient to simply ignore e-mails, text messages, and other communication from parties unknown, your etiquette touched me even if you were cranking it out on autopilot.

To the handful of individuals who would only agree to aid me for a nominal fee, I must say: some of your figures are staggering. If they are indicative of amounts you have received in the past for such projects, bravo. I obviously missed the class on master negotiating you attended.

The following individuals went above and beyond their proverbial calls of duty to help this volume come to fruition: David Adelman, Kathleen Bracken, Chris Bunkley, Ken Chino, Liz Eno, Danny Gamble, Bennett Graff, Christopher Harris, Rollie Hatch, Mark Kennedy, Taylor Knoblock, Brie Koyanagi, Aaron Knowlton, Pete Marshall, Mick Mercer, Rachel Hellion Meyers, Linna Olsson, John Piacquadio, Bill Platt, Michael Poley, Lyle Preslar, James Edward Raymond, James Lewis Rumpf, Kevin Salk, Dave Schwartzman, Mike Stax, Bear Steppe, Chopper Steppe, Jim Testa, John L. Welch, Matt Whiting, Joshua Wyatt, and Jay Yuenger.

Thank you of course to the Misfits themselveseven the ones who turned down the opportunity to participate here. Without your fertile subject matter, this book would probably be about something dreadfully boring, like impression-die forging or the history of Quaker Oats.

Extra special thanks to the taco truck at the corner of Stuyvesant Avenue and Broadway in Brooklyn for providing many a platter of pork nachos to help fuel late-night writing sessions. Thank you also to the PepsiCo corporation for the same via their wide variety of Mountain Dew products. Thanks also to the physicians who will help me with the kidney stones I most likely developed from ingesting so much food of this quality.

The Misfits are a band who have long had a secret club aura surrounding them. Like the jaded B-movie criticism vehicle Mystery Science Theater 3000 or the drug-mad writings of Hunter S. Thompson, fans first stumble across this entity and marvel, I cant believe something like this exists! If you feel the connection it is euphoricfinally, a cultural force speaking in a voice previously unheard yet familiar to your own inner monologue. Suddenly you want to know everything about them. You devour information like a rabid dog, swallowing every tidbit you come across.

At fifteen I became aware of the Misfits thanks to an upperclassman in my drawing class named Ed who regularly wore a tattered black shirt bearing the bands famous blaring white skull mascot. It was vintage, Ed claimed, passed down to him from a cousin or a sibling who had known the band and managed to get the image widely known (despite its lack of red hue) as the Crimson Ghost silkscreened directly on his or her own design-free T-shirt. A logo of the Champion brand on the garments sleeve seemed to support my friends story (The Misfits wouldnt sell a T-shirt with some companys name on it, Ed offered, reasonably). At the time I had never heard the Misfits but appreciated that I knew someone who owned something someone relatively famous once touched.

A few months out of high school I was killing time between community college courses at the home of a female friend; to give you some idea of the time period, I believe on that particular afternoon we were commiserating over the sudden gruesome death of Phil Hartman. As we conversed, my friends brother began loudly playing a spate of punk rock from his neighboring room. The rapid thumping, muffled ever so slightly by the homes drywall, was no botherthe Ramones were my bread and butter, after allbut a few minutes in I was struck by the distinct voice cutting through the smashing drums and roaring guitars.

Is that Glenn Danzig?

Like moth to a flame I shuffled into this kids room. I dont remember our verbal exchangejust the surreal moment I picked up the jewel case for Collection II and saw Glenn Danzigs name clear as day on the sepia-toned back cover. Suddenly it dawned on me.

Oh my God. The guy who sang Mother was in a punk band. Like, a really good punk band. This sounds like Elvis and the Ramones and there are goddamn skulls and murder all over this thing.

I was beside myself. Danzigs eponymous heavy metal band had danced across MTV for a brief moment just a few years before this, but I never bothered to penetrate beyond the surface radio hits. Glenn Danzigs deal had seemed clear to me: enormous belt buckle, mutton chops, buckets of swagger, deep voice, wanky metal junk. I figured the buck stopped there. Rarely have I ever been so pleased being dead wrong.

The real tipping point was I Turned into a Martian. Such a massive amount of catharsis flows through that song for anyone whos ever identified with being an outcast or an outsider or on the wrong side of normal. In my late teens I was certainly cognizant of the fact it was okay to be different, but that didnt necessarily always act as a salve when I felt out of place. To hear Danzig just completely own his metamorphosis into an otherworldly creature, to clench it with his fists and turn it around into an anthem of empowerment... I mean, that was the most reassuring thing in the world. When he shouts This world is mine to own! at the end of the second verse, I always find myself standing up a little straighter.

And the way the Misfits glued the songs melodies to that grinding riff is just astounding. How often to you ever hear something so forceful, so hard-chargingthose first three chords just come barreling out at you like cannon blaststhats also so sweet and romantic and (for lack of a better word) epic? There was just no turning back once that song hit my ears. Nearly every Misfits song is great, but for my money I Turned into a Martian is the greatest.