The Big Shiny Prison by Ryan Bartek - HTML preview

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Mafia” and intentionally blackballed and suppressed any band that didn’t fit into the tight-pants

indie crowd. I was the lone soldier throwing a monkey wrench into it all.

Its reasons were obvious – Detroit never had a source of mainstream pride. Within a two

year explosion The White Stripes, EMINEM, Kid Rock, ICP, Electric Six, D12, Von Bondies,

and Obie Trice all blew up. The Pistons won the championship, Detroit Shock won the women’s

title, The Tigers made the World Series, the Casino’s opened a floodgate of short-lived tourism,

and both Detroit and Hamtramck were voted two of the coolest cities in America by a dozen big-

name magazines. This had every daily and weekly scrambling to hold it in place and keep the

propaganda flowing as a possible economic boom to halt Detroit from descending any further into

its status as a rotting black ghetto.

What it created was a bulldozer effect against every other genre, and this terrible fad

where there were 8 billion ascot-wearing, no nonsense, gutless White Stripe clones. The disparity

between local press and the actual state of the undercurrent was shown by the fact that a mediocre

local band hyped be three interior writers which drew flies in a live setting would get the cover

story, yet someone like a Black Dahlia Murder were hosting MTV’s Headbangers Ball and never

registered a peep. 

That is just one fanatically head-scratching instance of about 50 Detroit bands DIY

touring the United States and Europe, releasing phenomenal albums, challenging the rules of

every clique and scenester trapping. The city really was on fire, but not a damn one of the bands

that were leveling the foundations even got so much of a scrap from the press. It seemed there

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were only 3 or 4 other local journalists in the entire racket that even bothered to go to more than 5

local shows per year.

Well, Friends of Dennis Wilson were part of that whole White Stripes boom and solidly

generic for a stretch (self admittedly). They appropriately evolved and dived headfirst into

psychedelia, experimental and surf. This will mark my first time seeing them live, or so much as

hearing their material…

The band kicks off their set. They kill it as best they can, but the sparse crowd doesn’t

respond. The chaotic Detroit vibe is totally over the heads of the desert folk. Tony rolls around on

the floor, swings from the rafters by his knees, crawls into a trash can and globs handfuls of

rubbish over his clothes, runs up to the bar, hammers a shot and throws his face into some poor

girls boobs and goes “blub-blub-blub” like a cartoon character. The bar owners are annoyed, and

even Kenny thinks they are assholes… 

 

FRIENDS OF DENNIS WILSON

“Could you please state your name and band for reference?”

Dennis Wilson: “My name is Dennis Wilson. My band is Friends of Dennis Wilson.” 

Tell me everything…”

“The bands spiritual side is channeled from Dennis Wilson. My real name is not Dennis

Wilson. My name is Tony Moran. My favorite movie is Two-Lane Blacktop, my favorite band is

Beach Boys, the first concert I’ve ever seen was Beach Boys. My favorite music is psychedelic

music and my favorite hero is Charles Manson.” 

Uncle Charlie Huh? You guys ‘Slippies?’”

“The reason why my favorite hero is Charles Manson is because it’s this radical attempt

to overthrow the government and be fucking drawn to the dark side. We are drawn to the dark

side…”

Tell me about drugs…”

“Our influence in music is not drugs it’s Dennis Wilson. I was raised on old garage music

from the 60’s. Our driving influence besides psychedelia is muscle cars. It’s gas. I come from

Detroit, Michigan. My dad, my mother, they worked for Rouge Steel. Sam our guitar player, his

dad worked for Ford. Our families love Detroit. We love steel, we love gas, we love oil. That’s

what we pride ourselves on. Drugs are a mere connection to a dangerous side of life that is

unknown. Yet it’s orgasmic, its fun, its something that we look forward to. Do you think Syd

Barrett’s music is channeled only through drugs or do you think he naturally had a poetic side to

him? Drugs have actually helped me. I should be prescribed to drugs. Everyone in my family has

been mentally ill. My mother is a schizophrenic. Her father was in a mental institution for 23

years ‘cause all he could say was ‘oh my god oh my god oh my god.’ My grandmother could not

say anything, she was in a mental institution too. Drugs are the only thing that balances me the

fuck out. I need that shit.” 

Have you read the Charles Manson “In His Own Words” autobiography?”

“That doesn’t mean anything to me because I take what other people say. My favorite

book about Charles Manson is The Family. It was this writer from Detroit from a band called The

Fuggs. Manson had mind control obviously. Mind control is what makes a band big. Mind

control is what makes a girl attracted to a guy. Mind control makes you want to snort more coke.

Mind Control makes you want to jerk off on a piece of paper. Mind control makes you want to eat

Pizza Hut. Taco bell is mind control. McDonalds is mind control. George Bush is mind control.

So you ask me is Charles Manson like George Bush? Yes Charles Manson is. Is he like Chuck E

Cheese? Yes he is like fucking Chuck E Cheese. Little kids are drawn to him. Is he like Bozo the

fucking Clown? He is. He wears the worst makeup, he’s the disguise you can’t understand...” 

 

 

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[We take a break to load equipment into the van, regain our foothold, and continue jabbering

away. Tony jacks my tape player and our interview roles reverse…]

 

“…Keep it rolling, keep it rolling. Let me ask you a question. I want to know how you

feel spiritually, whether you left a girlfriend in Detroit, or whether you left your lagging job. How

do you feel about being this far from Detroit writing this book?”

“It still hasn’t even hit me yet.” 

“Did the miles of being away from home affect you?”

“It’s all experience, how you take it in -- especially when I’m on Greyhounds for large

periods of time. I get so introverted that it will take me to that other place and will kick in a lot

of things. The longer I’m away the more I’m submersed in my own world, the more I’m able to

look outside myself…” 

“How do you feel about the generation we’re living in? I read On The Road when I was

eleven. I didn’t really understand it then, like the aspects of homosexuality. You go to college and

they make you read Kerouac, so you have these preppy fucks that like it because it’s weird and

it’s a different world from theirs. Do you get intimidated now that Kerouac is this big Star Bucks

thing, and that some people out there might look at what you’re doing as some cheap trend? Or

are you trying to keep that outlaw spirit alive and don’t give a fuck what anyone thinks?”

“It’s not about any of that really. I live for the legends of it. I’m not doing this book to

make money or to be famous -- I’m doing it for myself. I never went to college, didn’t watch

television from ‘99 until 2002. I did nothing but read books, listen to music. Most everything

I’m into nobody else is. Since I write for so many magazines, I get sent shit from all over the

world, tons of these obscure releases from labels run out of basements from Denmark to Brazil.

So everything I’m into no ones even heard of. It’s not like I’m modeling myself after Hunter

Thompson. Even when I discovered Thompson that’s the type of stuff I was writing. I didn’t

even know who Kerouac was until I was 18. I found Fernando Pessoa three years after I

finished my first book, and it is very similar to ‘The Book of Disquiet.’”

“How do you feel about contradiction, and how do you feel about contradiction in your

writing? What I mean is right now we’re hanging out together in New Mexico, we’re smoking

weed, and we’re living a bohemian, artistic lifestyle. Let’s say you’re like Kerouac and in twenty

years, and the last meeting between Kerouac and Cassady. He’s still that traveling prankster

hippie, and Kerouac wasn’t. He changed as a person -- very Catholic, very establishment. Are

you gonna look back and care that you were at this point? Would you ever disregard your work?”

“I never disregard anything, not even my first book. It’s like a time capsule. I wrote it

because I was very angry and wanted to present this picture of someone age 16 to 18 that’s

seriously bad on drugs, that has a lot of mental problems. Really show that as it is, but in the

mode of ‘Catcher In The Rye’ where’s its more ‘between the lines.’ I think people didn’t really

understand that and took it quite literal. I read that book now and it’s like ‘ok this guy is an

asshole, I don’t agree with everything he says,’ but I know that was me at one point. You grow

and you evolve as a person. With this new book the major theme is one person escaping from

Detroit and finding others who’ve escaped from elsewhere too.” 

“No one but myself and others from Detroit will understand where you’re coming from. I

travel with my band and at first I’m discouraged with Detroit, then I come to New Mexico and

I’m like, ‘Man, I love Detroit. I’m so lucky.’ With you it’s the same. You’re in the press, you’re

in this artistic capital of the world, and when you’re away from it…”

“Actually, I don’t ever want to go back there. It’s kind of a love/hate thing. I feel

disenfranchised by it because I was the big media hopeful for a lot of underground bands. And

when it came to the point where they were airing me on the radio, the magazines and

newspapers were promoting me -- everyone knew who I was and everyone’s eyes were on me --

they realized they really didn’t like what I had to say. And I alienated a lot of people with what

I’m all about. I go to Detroit and everybody knows me, but they all give me this fuckin’ look…

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I don’t understand. My first book was nothing that different from what Henry Rollins or

William Burroughs did. Yet they wear t-shirts with those guys on them and then they look at

me like I’m an asshole. I threw shows with plenty of bands I’d promoted for years, and when I

finally got my own band they wouldn’t even watch us play. They’re like in the bars ignoring me

and ducking their heads so they don’t have to speak to me. They won’t even look at me.”

“How do you feel about mind control?” 

“When I was doing A.K.A. MABUS my stage name was “The Propagandist.” It was

kind of a joke, because I feel that propaganda is everything and constitutes everything. When

you read something like ‘Mein Kampf’ there is a definite, mathematical code there. You have

to see it in that context.”

Ever since this garage phase when The White Stripes blew up… Now everything’s

blown over, and then you left, now there are all these bands that are amazing and they get no

press. It’s Heroes & Villains, The Terrible Two’s, The Questions… You know that New

Mexico’s music scene is nothing like Detroit’s right?”

“When things were big it was a conglomerate of all these bands that never fit in that

kind of teamed up together. You had The Koffin Kats, The Amino Acids, you had Downtown

Brown…

“I see Downtown Brown who’s not even my type of music, and they’re way tighter than

half the bands I play with that get press. I like 60’s rock and reverb, Fender amps and shit. I

listened to Downtown Brown on Fourth Street because they played in front of my house and they

sounded amazing. Guess what? They get no press. The reason why they get no press is because

they’re not a style that’s big in Detroit. But you know what’s funny? They get more packed

shows than any of the garage bands I see. They get kids, non-scenesters coming in from the

suburbs… I can’t get press. No one can get press… Who do you think is the next biggest band in

Detroit right now?”

“There’s so many fucking good bands.”

“The Bird Dogs, they’re on our record label and I think they’re the best band to come up.

You know Drew Bardo from The Questions. Me and Sam think Drew’s one of the best guitar

players in Detroit. Drew man, he watches The Bird Dogs – and he’s a master guitar player –

Drew’s like, ‘I’ve never seen anything like that in my entire life.’ This guy from The Bird Dogs

name is Robbie Buxton, he’s the guy who produced our record. He has his own recording studio,

he’s got his own label. This guys’ new record has eighteen songs on it, he only played half of

them for me and it’s some of the best shit I’ve ever heard from Detroit. Mark my words – this

will be the biggest band to come out of Detroit in ages. “

“What’s The Bird Dogs guy like?”

“Everyone kept telling him that he couldn’t do it, his wife wouldn’t let him do it, so he

quit his job, divorced his wife and now he lives in his studio. And he just made one of the most

amazing records I’ve ever heard. You want to know the best part about it? All the bands – The

Terrible Two’s, X Records, even The Demolition Dollrods – they all want Rob to record them.

This guy single-handedly took over Detroit. Nobody can fuck with this guy.”

“As far as bands that I think are excellent? Human Eye. Tim Vulgar’s the shit.

Rubbermiilk Orchestra at their peak. That fucking bassist is one of the best players I’ve ever

seen in my life. He goes head to head with Les Claypool.” 

“What do you think of The Piranhas?”

“I’ve never seen them. They were one of the bands I missed that I kick myself in the

ass over. I came from the mid-90’s at places like Pharaoh’s Golden Cup, The Mosquito

Club…”

“Tim Vulgar from Human Eye’s biggest influence is The Piranhas.” 

“Didn’t that singer shove a rat up his ass?”

“They used to headline all the old White Stripes shows, they played all over the country.

Everyone’s waiting for the next Stooges and they were right there all along. That guy is the real