Circa 1998, Detroit
It happens…
But it’s a new car!
So there I am. Heading down Caniff heading towards Joseph Campau. It’s dark, it’s cold. And we’ve been drinking cheap red wine. Carlo Rossi— you know, the kind that comes in the 1/2 gallon jugs all the old Italians drank. We pull up to this night club and find a spot to park on the side streets. We’re about to get going when I hear my cousin Pino puked inside my new car as he failed to make it out the widow. I probably idon’thave to tell you red wine puke is nasty. My first reaction was as could be expected “dude? wft?” But Gino reminds me the girls are in the back seat and he’s trying to play it cool, you know, for those time when you puke on the way to club..at the beginning of the night. “whatever…let’s just go…”
Hamtramck/Detroit Motor Lounge
This is late 90’s Hamtramck and Detroit. For outsiders, I can see how this can be some what intimidating. Back then, these neighborhoods kept a vibe to them that’s really hard to explain. The town overall, well, was kind of a fucked up place, to say the least,.. You had young Italian kids puking on the way to night clubs, 1/2 the buildings were empty or burned out, and it was probably the only major city without construction—anywhere. No one was building shit. And, it was also one fo the few places you can do close to whatever you want and get away with it— good or evil, you could do anything you wanted with practically no one to tell you “he asshole, you can’t do that”.
New EP! Now Available
Support independent Music.
Whatever, just don’t shoot nobody…
I knew of a guy who opened a wine bar in the courtyard of his house. He didn’t have permit or license. No one cared. I knew another guy who would throw bonfire parties in the courtyard of his apartment complex while selling weed after hours. 1/2 the bar would just go the bonfire after last call. Neighbors didn’t give a shit. Another guy had this art gallery that covered two different buildings and at 2am would tap a keg and the dj would start spinning old skool funk and soul records.— to this day, I’m still not convinced he wasn’t squatting the entire time. Back then, there was no age requirements to drink in a bar either. 17, 21 ..whatever. didn’t matter. Tip the guys out front to “watch the cars” and everyone left you alone. Drive home naked, whatever man… There was no one to care.
The wild thing about it, because most the buildings where empty or abandoned, it cost nothing to rent a space and open up a night club. or bar. See, these guys would just open shit because they thought i’d be cool to have somewhere to go with their friends. There was no solid business plan. Just cheap rent + drunk hipsters = successful business. That’s it. sell some dirty drugs out the kitchen, let the regulars party in the basement or back room after hours and everyone was happy. Cops didn’t care. Locals didn’t care. have fun, just don’t shoot anyone. And everyone showed up almost every night of the week. There were plenty of these places that were pretty good. But the king was the Motor Lounge. Home of great techno, live music, cheap(ish) drinks, metal works, leather and tattoos. It was great.
Back then, apartment rent was $300 a month in an historic flat. You could make rent in a couple nights and then “be an artist” the rest of the time. Life was easy. One thing about it though, as fun as it was and it was great time to, there was no road to anything. it was a dead end. This lingering thought that something great was going to come fluttered around, but it wasn’t ever going to happen. That’s the thing about the city. it’s like the Lions, you think it’s going to do something great, but it never does. and never will. But the hope is still there — hence the vibe that’s hard to describe: gritty and beautiful, broken and rising, blah and blah. Sometime, Detroit is like a bad relationship. Yeah it’s fun, can get over the top pretty quick for not a lot of money, and when things are great, their awesome. But it’ll kill you early if you hang around too long.
The Music, New EP Single- One More Time
The song, One More Time, is about this era—late 90’s Detroit. about a lover and the dance you need to break free. Get the fuck out while you can, while you’re still peaked.
Oh yeah, remember when I said, do whatever you want, just don’t shoot nobody? You see—that’s where the Motor Lounge failed. Some guy got shot and killed outside the bar in a bad drug deal or something. Or maybe he owed his dealer some cash. Either way, the part where we said, just don’t shoot anybody—-well, they didn’t listen and it all went to hell. that was the mark of the end of that era.
The song it self, like most my songs, feature plenty of dirty Fender Jaguar guitars, plenty of synths, and some dirty drums. We use a combination of Rivera amplifiers, Moog and Prophet synthesizers, and if you listen real close, you might hear the Roland 707 drum machine. We write music for film and TV as well, make sure you check it out.