I recently had the good fortune to publish a book, written by my old friend Lewis Dimmick. It's a 66 page tome with personal anecdotes of growing up in NYC & being into HC/Metal in the 1980's. Unlike other books about said subject matter, this one is not filled with facts & figures, it's focus is more of a literary approach to capturing a particular moment in time. He accomplishes this by using eloquent prose that at times reaches haiku-like levels in economy of delivery & precise wording with poetic sensibility. I could go on trying to describe it, but why don't I let the words speak for themselves. A huge debt of gratitude to Sean Taggart for drawing such an incredible work of art for the cover.The following is a couple of excerpts from the book. If you like what you read, please pick it up here in full:
Victim In Pain III
An explosion rocks the Lower East Side of New York City. Manhole covers blow clear. Rats scatter through the streets. The bursting intro chord that begins the title track to Agnostic Front's Victim in Pain never fails to jolt the system.
It's raw and dirty, as New York City was back then, not slick and polished, as New York City is now, as hardcore records are now.
It's genius songwriting, though the playing is ordinary; it's clear that what made it onto vinyl is the entirety of the band's capabilities; it's clear they possessed exactly what was needed and no more, which is to say that on this record they achieved the maximum outcome possible with what little they had; they took what little they had and shaped into greatness.
Walking to the Pyramid Club, I bumped into Jules, the singer for Side By Side. The conversation came around to the fact that Side By Side needed a bass player. I offered my services. "Do you go off when you play?" he immediately asked.
Did I jump around a lot when I played? That's what he was asking.
Did I jump high in the air when I played, pounding the air with my fist?
Did I make psychotic faces when I played, demonized by the music's fury?
Did I scream lyrics when I played, scream them straight down the crowd's throat?
"Yea, I go off" I said. "You know, if I feel it, if the music moves me".
One look at me and I'm sure he could tell I did not go off. I was shy and pudgy, fearful of dramatic movements. which tended to make my flab jiggle.
We went our separate ways at The Pyramid Club and never spoke again.
This music that amplified my life
This music- this art that
survives death, opposes death, that is
the furious opposite of death.
This music. These roots. This tribe.
I walk through my silent house
this music in my body.
|The man behind the words.|
Follow This Music's page on Facebook for details on the upcoming event for the book in NYC.
|Original cover sketch by Sean Taggart.|