another amazing night at Kimo’s! The night started
out with a solo set by Jonathan R. Dyer, the jazz/blues horn player
who played in the cherotic all-stars for our last Kimo’s jam.
Then it was Fluff Grrl’s turn. Bob and his wife Ann are refugees
from Detroit … All I can say is Detroit must be a gritty surreal
place! Anyway, Fluff Grrl’s base player Stacey kept breaking
her strings … all of them in fact … inducing an incredible
jam, until a guy in the non-existent audience gave her his bass. I
grabbed him for the all-stars after Stacey skipped out to the Gwar
concert! He turned out to be Liberty, who drove from L.A. to see his
friend Jerome, bringing his bass just in case! I also grabbed Jerome
for our set.
Then Mutant Press (Jerome T. Youngman) took the stage.
He is a dynamic performer/showman/ guitarist/one-man-band from Detroit
[hence the title of this Mother’s Day gig]. His video show Bring
It To Jerome is on luver every Thursday at 5:30pm pacific time.
Boom set the night around Jerome’s visit to S.F.
When we were setting
up, the reality shifted into waiting for the usual limits to dissolve
into playing physical pleasure trance. Me alone nude rocking moaning
singing in strobe lights for forever. When forever became sweetly uncomfortable,
the band began to slowly pile onto the stage around me. Linda, Kirsten,
Erika, and I melted rubbing dancing fusing, pleasure sweating explicitly,
singing tasting skin, becoming movements beyond sex, beyond power,
into the core of what has always been inside our bodies, but always
has been denied. We sang this with Michael Peppe and Ann Madigan, with
her Bob muttering into a mic, then blowing on his harmonica. We dancing
singing four merging together in ever-changing combinations, rocked,
licked, sucked, tasted within one another, liberating more acts and
gestures from limiting sex to release not only freeing pleasure, but
also warm joy of being deeply together. This joy, which is extremely
infectious, is one reason why we get away with going far beyond the
normal taboos into innocent love.
This pleasure joy was the base line for the jamming music, which was
an intense wall of sound. This ever-mutating wall was filled with inter-locking
details from small rituals of mutual following, feeding back, and building
outward and inward. Nude Mikee capturing this visual, erotic, musical
infusion of being on explicit video moving on stage within the being,
zeroing in on the aroused rituals, intimate parts which are usually
secret, hidden. Dr. O. lying on his keyboard, making gentle love to
it. Across the stage, Chris of Pervertidora Records was attacking lustfully
his computerized keyboard as a mad scientist. Barney was teasing sexy
scary whinings from his Theremin. I don’t have any idea what
Walter Funk was blowing through into his mic. It looked like a giant
diaphragm on a cowbell. His eyes were rolling insanely in his bobble-head.
Another bobble-head was the big funky Buddha figure of Liberty, at
first picking his bass, but then beating it with his huge hand to get
the trance beat from it. Next to Liberty, tattooed Jerome did the wild
dance of lead guitarist…his dangerous dirty licks mirrored the
Now for comic relief. For months, Bob has been fixating on Linda’s,
Erica’s and Kirsten’s bushy bushes … threatening
to burn them back … as he does his in Fluff Grrl. Well, deep
in the middle of our dance trance, we looked down and there is Bob
knees with his lighter! The gals danced off, and I pulled his head
to my cock and held it there! That seemed to satisfy him! But we are
going to put squirt guns in our prop bag … even though I have
now banned lighters and matches during jams!
As one body, Kirsten, Linda, and Erika took the erotic dance trance
to each member of the band. Each melted into it more deeply than ever
before. We played for over an hour within deep fun. It feels like we
are opening the gates to a sensual realm wider and wider each jam we
do. This is possible because there has been a core group developing
of people with the desire to explore this realm together. This realm
is where direct change is rooted. But it appears to be just fun, just
joy … not even serious sex! This is why we are flying below the
After the gig, the station wagon wouldn’t start. 2 a.m. wih the
street people and the hookers. People swarmed around to help. A guy
living on the street fixed the problem that has been stumping our mechanic
for years! Trust people and Life!
And we survived this performance marathon!