dangerobby

AND HIS DESCENT WAS SWIFT; MADDENED BY IMPOTENCE

I am on the stress-trip from Vietnamese-Taipei. Holy Mother of Me, I am just going crazy. Debts all over this town, my life as it is known on the brink of collapse. Phone, power, credit and credibility hang on a fine thread of whispered promise. I'm learning to juggle slowly.

This band keeps accelerating, and I have no plan. I'm no financial guru, I have no idea how to cope. Everything keeps building and building and it's all driving me round in circles.

I think we can do it. We have to do it. This band is the sine qua non of my life. God, I want this to work more than anything. It feels like I'm going to have to hit bottom for it to happen, and I'm afraid and and excited all at once.

I'm writing songs like a madman - the stress has given me a huge creative burst. Then I shake and can't even play my guitar.

"Cram packed with fuel injected jet missile action, this is war motherfucker and don't you forget it for one second. It is us versus them, and if you're giving in then you are giving up... There isn't much time for maybes, even goodbyes sometimes... We are all left holding the blur."