(acknowledged debt in title to Jason Spaceman and his brilliance and genius, the least of which is reflected in his choice of keyboardist in his second band, the wonderful Kate who was swooped up and plucked away by the equally demented and rather hot Richard).
“To Professor Caesar Lombroso, Turin: Dear and Honoured Master,
I dedicate this book to you. Degenerates are not always criminals, prostitutes, anarchists, and pronounced lunatics; they are often authors and artists. Some among these degenerates in literature, music, an painting have in recent years come into extraordinary prominence, and are revered by numerous admirers of as creators of a new art, and heralds of the coming centuries. This phenomenon is not to be disregarded. Books and works of art exercise a powerful suggestion on the masses, especially the impressionable youth, easily excited to enthusiasm for all that is strange and…is incapable of judging if these works are the productions of a shattered brain, and also the mental disturbance expressing itself by them. Now I have undertaken the work of investigating (as much as possible after your method) the tendencies of the fashions in art and literature; of proving that they have their source in the degeneracy of their authors, and that the enthusiasm of their admirers is for manifestations of more or less pronounced moral insanity, imbecility, and dementia.—Max Nordau”
“My brightest stars my inner light let it guide me.
Experience and innocence bleed inside me,
Hallucinogens can’t open me or untie me.
Higher than sun, I’m...
Higher than sun…”
Having a diseased mind has always been a boon to creativity, there is enough documentation to attest to this mundane fact and having thus said so will no longer warrant my attention. However, there can never be enough written or said about the effects of the intake of ‘mind-altering’ substances upon a mind that is simultaneously diseased and creative. Decadent is the term most commonly applied to this most delicious of combinations, having come into fashion at the turn of the first fully industrialized human century in the fin-de-siecle politics of such noted deranged illuminaries as Oswald Spengler in his aptly titled Decline of the West, pseudo-craniologist Max Nordau and his kooky Degeneration, and Ernst Friedrich in his zany manifesto “Krieg dem Kriege! Guerre a la Guerre! Oorlog aan den Oorlog!” (published with all languages simultaneously displayed). The problem with all these diseased but albeit stimulating minds was that they did not inhale or snort or drop enough of anything to have the necessary holy tripartite of creativity, disease and drugs and thus were only lame reactionary bastards. In contrast, examine the lovely parlance of such rock n roll freak scene-sters as Bobby Gillespie in the cited Primal Scream lyrics on page one (the band was named after therapy after all, but not Therapy? ha ha –that was a joke probably only Tom DeezNutz would get) and his former band mates drug brothers/buddies and Hope Sandoval’s boyfriend(s): Jim and William Reid of The Jesus and Mary Chain who sang (softly) of " her honey-dripping behind” on the glorious Psychocandy. Not to mention Kevin Shields who took so many drugs he will never be able to make an album again, oh but loveless…; everyone in Spacemen 3 of course and all members of the Stone Roses, whose vision of the ‘Second Coming’ and its rave/ecstasy soaked mantras “I am the Resurrection” and such was diseased indeed. Talk about a bad album. The delusions of god-like egomania only seem to be helpful in the beginning except if you are Gian Lorenzo Bernini who at age of eleven reputedly already had a papal commission under his belt in the piece The Goat Amalthea with the Infant Jupiter and a Faun. Or Marcos. Manic Marc is perfect and this entire drug-drenched paper is an ode to him and his flowers of malfeasance the perfect Rock n Roll Adventure Kids. May their adventure forever carry on.
just found this piece written for randy/westy's indie decal. wow i was really trying to justify something eh? but i think the topic was supposed to be 'drugs: boon or bust to creativity.' yep. i was kinda fucked-up when i wrote this.
