Art refuse

Bright end to bad days and we're back here at the beginning (in a manner of speaking down to the teenage twerp who made such a mess of mix tapes between his tape to tape, his crappy cd player and his grandparent's record fiesta in the corner of the brooklyn brownstone that will, one day, make every grieving cox a rich sunmabitch).

When i didn't know a man could do that. when i was amazed that brazilians weren't a thousand feet tall and used anthrax for a template to which all other metal was met.

Okay, not really. but i did see the band three times and in those excursions i was alternately punched in the face (at eleven) waiting to see iron maiden, deprived of fingernails and alomst killed a second time but in a swift bout of thinking moved out of the way of the hulking he beast atop the monster soundsystem at roseland ballroom (the first time he got me. the second time he dide...i think. or was crippled. either way they made an ambulance announcement on the p.a. and no one was slamming him again. thirteen) and on the receiving end of a cracked back that kept me from moving, let alone fucking for a good week on account of jumping off the irving plaza amplifiers at the behest of their then singer and landing on a beercan, being dragged down the stairs by a bouncer holding my hair and thrown out in the rain.

So, really, fuck them.

But antisocial still kind of rules my shit.

Yeah, i know it's french and their duet with public enemy is vastly superior in so many ways the hard corps just didn't get but this is about sepultura.

This about being a teenager and standing at a train station in upstate new york having delivered acres of files from one mental hospital to another and standing alone on the platform trying to emulate max to the hudson river and some homeless cat i only noticed after i paused to rewind the tape and do it again.

This about a band who on their swansong (dub war stoning doesn't count) ocified them as the great monsters who could have fucking shook the planet to it's coal if only there wasn't a nu dream of roadrunning to fucking ruin everything.

And right here is where i came in.

Refuse-Resist.mp3