Gallon Drunk
You, The Night... And The Music

An elect.

That's how I felt that night many years ago, perhaps on a Saturday evening of rare boredom, one of those moments when you think that only a miracle could wake you from the cold stupor of mediocrity. The miracle occurred, and it didn't happen from above as is most commonly known, but from the deepest recesses of the Earth... It was a back road, one of those dark, silent, and sleepy ones in a provincial town, and the situation could not be more squalid and bleak...

A moment later, I was paralyzed by a chilling and cavernous scream, a blast of a fiery organ and the tremors of a bass that made everything solid nearby falter... An instant later, everything seemed to have vanished, calmness reclaimed the place... "It was just a hallucination," I thought, "deep night, freezing temperature, that junk I had ingested..." but no, no the earth trembled again, this time too much not to burst open completely... I plunged into a nightmare of lava and darkness in the guts of the tedious surface reality...

Down there, however, I didn't find Lucifer himself, but a pack of mad, drunken, furious, impressive beasts on a stage of flames tormenting a condemned audience of "ex-normals" now sub-human creatures like me, exhausted, sunk in their drab existence... I learned it was a concert ordered by His Majesty Mick Satan Jagger, still unsatisfied (ever since '65...) with the eternal penalties imposed on him for his affront to the Above... I was also told that before these crazy wild ones, the most famous bands of Hell burned on stage: the Doors, Nick Cave's Birthday Party, the Cramps, the Gun Club of demon Jerry Lee Pierce...

However, my despair at having missed them all lasted the three seconds of the bass riff of "Some Fool's Mess," a garage of infernal-tribal dance devastated by explosions of an organ of SisterRay-ana memory and recited-screamed by the most ferocious and drunken psychopath... And the eternal night continued for a while on that forbidden path of the intoxication of the senses and bodies in preparation for Heresy, the last incredible insolent challenge: a brief but disconcerting demonic imitation of the piano solo of "My Favorite Things" by John Coltrane, the most beautiful work of one of the most sincere faithful, in "You, The Night... And The Music..."

Remaining oneself, not letting go in front of so much ferocious, perverse, insane beauty was not and is no longer possible...