GG ALLIN, THE FIRST AMENDMENT, AND THE LAW
Article and Interview by Joe Coughlin
Every generation seems to have a person who behaves so unconventionally that they end up observed by police wherever they perform. Often these people are simply years ahead of the times and as time marches on what they once did that was considered so shocking has become commonplace. In the 1960s, Lenny Bruce uttered curse words to make important sociological and comedic points. Now Eddie Murphy, Andrew Dice Clay and others make comical careers by using those same words much more often. Jim Morrison got loaded and threatened to expose himself on stage once or twice. His very threats that he'd do it were enough to warrant arrest. Now Madonna makes a media event out of exposing herself. David Crosby's cocaine use got out of control in the 1980s and he was hassled repeatedly for carrying a handgun. Now that he is sober, he is left alone. We presume he still carries the gun. Society has always chosen who to prosecute and who to ignore. There can be no argument that GG Allin is certainly on the 1990s harassment list.
At first, it's difficult to believe Allin is for real. It's harder still to believe that he has die-hard fans as do rockers Morrison and Crosby. More than one magazine has printed that Allin does not exist and then been forced to eat their words when the photos and live videos are sent in. Allin shocks because he violates society's norms and refuses to apologize for it. Not even when he's in a courtroom facing yet another jail sentence. We think he's surely a living gray area as evidenced by how much we argued about this piece with everyone from each other to my parents to friends to printers. We were thrilled to get the full story from his biographer. However, we declined in the end to print Mr. Allin's many curses (which his fans will notice missing right away) in the hopes that this decision might get thousands of more mainstream people to read his ideas. Many would have turned away otherwise. In a few spots we have chosen to substitute some words and those appear in brackets.
You might never entertain the thought of going to see GG Allin perform, but he makes a strong case here for his right to do so. We welcome your mail, of course. -Netta Gilboa
If rock'n'roll is, as its purists suggest, truly the music of nihilism, then GG Allin is the living - or should I say dying? - embodiment thereof. Since the late 70's, Allin has waged his one-man war against societal values backed by bands such as the Jabbers, Scumfucs, Texas Nazis, Cedar Street Sluts, Drug Whores, Sewer Scum, Afterbirth, Psycho, Disappointments, AIDS Brigade, Bulge, Toilet Rockers, etc., and most recently (with his big brother Merle on bass), the Murder Junkies. The music has always been loud, coarse, cathartic, and in-your-face; "Punk," if you must, with the occasional death-dirge thrown in. Though Allin says a few imminent releases branch out, he won't say exactly where to.
His subject matter deals strictly with his own reality, and a deliberately horrific one it's been: isolation, inebriation, and what most would consider the basest depravity are everyday life for Allin. Song titles include "F---in' The Dog," "Needle Up My C---," "Blood For You," "Drink, Fight And F---," and "Expose Yourself To Kids." There are dozens more, each representing either a true story or a sincere philosophical belief. "Gypsy Motherf-----" has been called Allin's own "Truckin'." It's his quintessential road song, but instead of trippy tales of Sweet Jane or vitamin C, Allin pukes up lines like, "To the c--- in Minnesota/I cracked your skull, f--- you/ You Chicago n------ tried to kill me/But you didn't pull through/...I remember your vagina/Little c--- in Carolina/You all down in Texas way/Tried to stab me, no way..." It is not unreasonable to propose, for whatever it's worth, that perhaps no other artist's life and work are so consistently true to each other. But is Allin an artist? Society says no.
His juggernaut live performances are without question the most extreme in the history of the music, getting him banned from virtually every room he's ever played - until lately, anyway. Over recent years, a few brave clubowners have risked their licenses, and their property, to have him back a second time due to his drawing power. Oh yeah - the guy has a whole lot of fans, even though his shows now "typically" include nudity, bloodshed, onstage defecation (which Allin frequently eats and/or flings at the crowd), and the very real threat of personal injury; people do tend to panic, after all, and scramble for doors, among other things. Most of the blood, however, is Allin's own, drawn usually by his own hand. He pummels his face with microphones or shoves them up his ass, cracks bottles over his head and carves himself up with the remnants, dives into furniture, you name it. Often, the uninitiated will attack him as well, but Allin's immunity to pain invariably sends them scurrying. For every music lover that feels Allin epitomizes freedom of expression, there's another who wants him behind bars.
That's exactly where Allin has spent the better part of the last four years, under highly suspect legality; his parole board has decreed on record that he is "a performer for all the wrong reasons," and thus recommended he serve maximum incarceration time, even though the charges he's in for are not performance-related. Allin sees it as nothing less than a government conspiracy, against not only himself, but the potential he implies for the world, artistically and politically. It'll be interesting to see what has transpired between the time of this writing and the time you read it - he maxed out his current sentence (as well as his parole) in March 1993. How long he remains a free man is but conjecture. The feds, you see, took a distinct interest in Allin some years back when he publicly vowed to commit suicide onstage. Coincidentally (?), his chosen dates so far have been preempted by these jail terms.
What of this Earth breeds a GG Allin? None of his court-appointed shrinks seem to know. Does it - should it - matter? If this guy wants to blow his brains out for an adult, paying audience, who's to say he can't? Who's to say we can't see it? And believe this, there are many - fans and, especially, foes - who simply can't wait. Conversely, what is the likelihood of such a gig getting booked anywhere in the first place? Allin's very existence tests legal ground at every turn, and he wouldn't have it any other way. He feels himself a catalyst for change through chaos at best, a pimple on the ass of humanity at least. "I live to be hated," he's proud to say, and it's no ploy for attention or money: Allin is virtually homeless outside of prison, living from gig to gig, recording on a shoestring, and blowing any residuals on booze, drugs, and prostitutes.
He claims his childhood was not a major factor, that he's always felt this way. One has to wonder: his first decade or so was spent in a two-room log cabin without electricity or running water, miles from anything, in woodsy Northumberland, New Hampshire. His father would hole up in one half of the place for days at a time, allowing no conversation or candles after dark, packing snow outside the windows to block the view out. He was also known to dig family plots in the dirt cellar, curse his wife out, destroy things she liked, and once set his own bed on fire when she wouldn't sleep with him. Allin developed both paranoia and egomania, and started to slowly perceive his father's behavior - ergo, all behavior - as normal: "You are what you are."
His mother silently endured because it was an improvement over life with her own mother, while young Allin developed a ferocious Oedipus complex. The old man, by the way, had professed to having "visions" about the boy just before his birth, and named him accordingly: "GG," it turns out, is the phonetic "Je-Je," a nickname given him by his brother - his real given name as it appears on his birth certificate, is Jesus Christ Allin. (It was changed to Kevin Michael by mom just before the start of school.) He has carried the fact as an omen since the minute he understood it as a child, and now feels his inevitable suicide is a sacrifice to his cause.
His musical involvement started around the age of ten, when his mom finally took the boys - and moved back home. The kids hated it, and begged to go back to their dad, but it was not to be. Though it sounds terribly like the standard take, it's true: the split second Allin heard rock'n'roll on his mom's new radio, he knew. He started stashing lunch money to buy records at the end of the week. He became a drummer first, and an excellent one, but soon his new idols were letting him down. For all their alleged badness, even the Stones played by certain rules, and he promised himself he never would. His nonconformity soon landed him in Special-Ed classes. When he was held back a year, his hatred mushroomed. At his first-ever gig, a school dance, he snapped, ran out, and tore down all the decorations in the gym in the middle of a song. The teachers balked, the kids cheered, and that was it.
Merle soon ditched school sports in favor of playing music with him. Each band got more confrontational, and the one they played for in high school would be blackballed locally. Called Little Sister's Date (LSD), in honor of both the drug and young girls, they dressed in semi-drag and played the most annoying skronk they could muster. At one show, a neighborhood block party, they managed to pit the factions of young and old against each other, prompting a near-brawl in the middle of the quaint town common. Allin felt he was on to something big. By 1977, Punk had arrived, and he was drumming for Malpractice, who were no slouches at clearing rooms either. They even put a single out. After that, Merle moved to Boston, leaving his brother to gig and record on his own as a frontman, marry, divorce, father a daughter, and spiral into a hell-ride that hasn't let up since.
For the next ten years, Allin would ingest literally any substance put in front of him without even asking what it was. He took sporadic blue-collar jobs, lived on peanut butter and dog food in single rented rooms, and played whenever possible. For a short while, it was a lot, but word got out on him quickly. His personal habits got downright nasty, while the music and the shows went from snotty to sleazy to scary in a hurry. Around town, he was always whacked. People avoided him, but he got off on it - this was a unique, viable gift, and he would roll with it. In the earliest years, it was almost humorous, but aberrances grew daily. By 1986, he was the Underground's most feared and despised figure. He still is, but a core of believers remain unwaveringly supportive.
How he got from there to here is fairly logical: when you have no personal limits or laws, the horizon is yours to create. Allin believes only in himself. He's not doing it for your freedom - he'll tell you that's your responsibility. He maintains he's in jail for who he is, not what he's done. He hasn't compromised his music in the least; in fact, his most recent work as of this writing is his most wrathful and lucid yet. Aside from being of questionable taste, though, he also burns every bridge he crosses. It's not hard to understand why most people still haven't heard of him. Allin, now 36, looks like a walking train wreck. His limited-pressing records are increasingly hard to come by, his shows almost exclusively word-of-mouth. This interview took place over the phone from Jackson (MI) State Prison, December, 1992.
Joe Coughlin: I guess the biggest question is "Why?" Why you, and why rock'n'roll?
GG Allin: Why me, because it's my revenge on this robotic society, because someone has to do it. Someone has to be the leader, and no one else is doing it. Why rock'n'roll, 'cause this is rock'n'roll, this is what it was meant to be.
GA: Taking a s--- onstage?
GG: Just doing it your own way. It doesn't even have to be about music or anything. I'm just saying, "Do whatever the f--- you want." You don't have to listen to anyone. I don't care if you're a painter, whatever, but for me, this is my way, this is my reality. That audience is there for me. I'm not a performance artist or any of that, I'm not out to please anyone. Just me. Rock'n'roll has to be destroyed and rebuilt in my name if it's ever gonna accomplish anything. It's not about being in some clique, it's for people who don't fit in with any thing.
GA: Do you use a laxative or something? You're pretty "regular."
GG: I have. I don't do that every night, you know, it's not a set thing. If the crowd really pisses me off, I might do an enema up there, sometimes it just happens. It's just one thing that happens, though. Everybody picks up on the sensational things, but no one really gets it. "GG has sex on stage," or whatever, but it goes so much deeper than that, I'm breaking down barriers here. F--- the law, no one's forcing you to see my show.
GA: So there's no cameraderie, no "We're all in this together..."
GG: No, not at all. I do this for me, 'cause I have to. Whether anyone likes it or hates it or shows up or doesn't, I'd still do it. I've sold my records outta shopping carts on the street. Sometimes I don't even have a band, I'll just play to a tape, but it's gonna come out one way or another.
GA: Let's suppose there was no such thing as rock'n'roll.
GG: Christ, I'd be, I don't know, a serial killer, you know? Something...I got all this anger inside me. I'll tell you, my music has always sounded like this. I wasn't waiting around for some trendy thing to happen, I was doing it already.
GA: What are you in jail for right now?
GG: Technically, a parole violation. I wasn't supposed to leave Michigan after I got out last time (1991). We did a tour, and I got arrested in Dalton, Georgia, then in Orlando, Florida with our drummer, and then in Houston, Texas. In Houston, they finally ran a check on me and I got extradited back to Michigan.
GA: Arrested for...?
GG: The usual, drunk and disorderly, indecent exposure, assault, I don't know. I hit some hospitals, too, like I always do.
GA: I heard the club in Dalton is still closed as a result of your show there, even though you posted legal disclaimers outside?
GG: I believe that's correct, I'm not positive. The clubs do the disclaimers, not us, but we sorta recommend it. Enter at your own risk. They all know what's gonna happen.
GA: What were you on parole for?
GG: Well, that was the whole Ann Arbor (MI) thing, with Leslie. That was serious, and at that point, I had just been convicted for the Odd Rock Cafe (Milwaukee, WI) thing. They sentenced me to 60 days on that, and we were gonna appeal that, and then the Ann Arbor thing happened before we got the chance.
GA: OK, the Odd Rock was...
GG: The Odd Rock was for taking a s---. The owner says they had no idea what my act was about, but that's a lie.
GA: So you have warrants now in how many states?
GG: Seven states, I believe.
GA: Back to Ann Arbor.
GG: Basically what happened is we're doing this show, OK? This chick jumps in my lap backstage, she's taking her clothes off, she dances naked onstage with us, I mean she's going nuts. She's saying she wants to marry me and...
GA: That first night?
GG: That first minute! Oh yeah, that's happened before, too. So I end up staying with her for awhile, and we had this wild party, just days on end, people off the street were coming in, it was just...Anyway, what happened is after I left her, she decides I assaulted her and she files charges. I have letters from her from after all the court stuff where she still wants to marry me. I'll show you the postmark. I had messages on my machine and everything, so what is that? The feds wanted me 'cause I wrote to (John) Hinckley anyway, so it just would've been something else. We were there for a week after this so-called incident and she never said a thing. She changed her police report three times, said she was jumped outside, three black guys did it to her. She wasn't, like, typical, either, she was a law student or something. Besides, anyone hangs with me, they know what to expect, really.
GA: I take it you're no longer in touch. So did you assault her?
GG: Not in touch, correct. I didn't do anything she didn't agree to one hundred percent.
GA: Were you sexually abused yourself as a kid?
GG: I don't think so. If I was, I blacked it out. I'd say I was mentally abused. My father was, like, gone, my grandmother...I really don't think it would've made any difference, though, in who I am. If I had, like, a normal family, maybe I'd be worse! (Laughs) I really don't think about it much.
GA: Do you want to talk about your other family, your daughter?
GG: Not really, I mean, it was like this double life back then, I don't...I'm not in touch with these people. I tried going to a shrink when I was married, and it was just such a joke. I don't need help. I'm fine. I don't think I'm allowed to see my daughter anyway, I don't know...
GA: Why do Jello Biafra and 2 Live Crew and Ice-T get off while GG Allin goes to jail?
GG: That's just people in power trying to draw the line for you with that, they're trying to say, "OK, this is acceptable, but this isn't," and I'm what isn't, 'cause I'm not on a major label. In other words, they're saying what's Underground. I'm the real Underground, and they know it, but they don't want you to know about me, so they set the limit. They say, "Anything worse than this is illegal," so no one will look beyond that thing, but there I am, I'm what's beyond it.
GA: Makes sense.
GG: Absolutely, that's what it is. My song "Kill The Police" was out years before Ice-T's song ("Cop Killer," which, by the way, Ice-T pulled voluntarily from his album with Body Count after some serious pressure from law enforcement officials). His song is bubblegum compared to mine. I talk about the whole system.
GA: On that same album (Murder Junkies, recorded with Anti-Seen originally on New Rose), you talk about offing the president. How serious is that?
GG: It's the whole idea of having these seats of power. It's more the presidency. Anyone in power like that, we don't need it. It's not this individual or that one. I hate everybody. And again, if I was on some major label...other people say the same thing, and they don't get locked up. Then you got these bands like GWAR, and people think that's shocking. It's just phony. It's all college jocks and people in suits running rock'n'roll, and it doesn't mean a thing anymore.
GA: Back to Ann Arbor, you did, what, two years?
GG: A little under.
GA: Ever consider a countersuit against...?
GG: Leslie Morgan, no. I got better things to do, I don't have the time or the money for that anyway, I mean, it's done. Good luck to the next guy.
GA: People have been known to throw up or faint at your shows...
GG: Well, I don't think what I do is outrageous. I put myself through it so I can get stronger every day. I can face anything. I really don't, I don't have a problem with any of it. People should get upset, though. No one comes to my shows so they'll feel safe and comfortable. Maybe they'll take it home, I don't care. I get fifty, sixty letters week in here, people saying, "You changed my life." Fine, whatever. I just do it 'cause I have to. I still don't see anybody else doing it.
GA: So no "favorite" shows, really...
GG: No, they're all great. At the Cat Club in New York once, this isn't even the show yet, I'm in the ladies' room tryin' to get someone to [urinate] in my mouth, and this chick thought she's being tough and she pulls out her tampon, and I just ate it right it front of her, just swallowed the thing. They couldn't believe it. That night, someone said, "This is New York, you're not gonna surprise anyone here." They were talking about that show in the Village Voice for two months straight afterward. One time someone threw a dead cat up onstage and I tried to [have sex with] it. Every show could be the last one.
GA: Why do you want to die?
GG: Death is a very important part of life. It's not so much wanting to die, but controlling that moment, choosing your own way. As far as the stage, that's where I lived my life. I don't wanna get old and stagnant and hang around. I think you should go out at your peak. Your soul should be as strong as possible when it leaves here for whatever comes next.
GA: Why are your fans, the women in particular, so extreme?
GG: It's amazing, I don't know. I've had women who move to the towns I'm living in, just pack up and move there, never even met 'em before, 'cause they heard I lived there. Lot of crazy, submissive, I mean some of these girls will do anything. Even way back with the Jabbers, I was having phone sex with girls all over the country, it's unbelievable! (Laughs) I get laid in dressing rooms all the time, Christ, I've gotten [oral sex] on stage, everything.
GA: So you don't believe in relationships or anything?
GG: Definitely not. Sex is better with someone you hate, but I still prefer jerking off over any of it.
GA: You've said elsewhere that you've tested negative for AIDS. That's kind of a miracle.
GG: Yeah, I suppose so. I tried, though (laughs).
GA: It's hard to imagine all these musicians wanting to get anywhere near the whole thing, too.
GG: I've got like a waiting list of people who wanna play with me. This band I got now's a bitch.
GA: How do you like playing with your brother again? Are you guys close at all?
GG: He can put up with me a little more, I guess. I don't get close, period. I use who I have to to get where I want.
GA: Merle makes some decent money selling videotapes of your shows. How do you feel about that, and about bootlegging in general?
GG: That's a good question. (Pause) To be honest, it depends more on my mood than anything. A lot of people sell my product. At least with Merle, I know they're getting good quality, but at the same time, if all you've seen is a video, you haven't seen it. The tension in those rooms is just unbelievable. You'll never get the blood or anything. We definitely have our arguments about it, though. When I'm in the world, I have more of a problem with it, but when I'm in here, I feel like he's taking care of business, you know, better him than anyone else. In the past, I didn't care one way or the other, I thought, "anything to get the message out." If someone comes right up and asks me if they can tape it and they say they'll give me a copy or something, that's usually cool, but when I see someone sneaking around with a camera, I'll smash the thing, cause I've had 'em used against me, too.
GA: How so?
GG: There was a tape someone made at this club called the Halfway Inn, in Ann Arbor, before the whole trial went down, and they got me snorting coke in the dressing room. I didn't know it, and the D.A. got ahold of it and showed it to the jury, so obviously I care a lot more now about these things getting in the wrong hands.
GA: What about lost profits?
GG: I don't know if they're lost, actually, it's not like I miss the money or care so much about it, but why should they get it either? What did they do besides stand there and tape it? I don't know, I've taken them away from people before, it really depends on if I think they're cool, just all kinds of stuff.
GA: How do you feel about the guy in Pittsburgh ("M. Physema") who does all those 'zines about you?
GG: Oh, he's cool, and he actually does pay me, too. He's helped put together records for me, he's helped out with artwork, photocopies, phone calls...he's for real, he doesn't make a lot of money off it. When I went to prison in 1989, he just got totally behind me. I haven't even met him yet, I don't think I even know his real name. He's great.
GA: There are a lot of other 'zines that never seem to leave you alone.
GG: I know, I wrote MAXIMUMROCKNROLL a letter back in '85, from a hospital bed in Texas, and people were furious that they would even print it, and then the other side comes out, and it's like this endless debate ever since. They have a lot stricter, like, political format than Flipside or most of these other ones. There's a lotta stuff they won't print, but they always print my stuff. They really hated me at first, you know, "Drink, Fight and F---" was just not cool for them with all these straight-edge kids reading it, but it's like now that they know I'm for real...I've seen so many bands come and go in the last fifteen years, it's unbelievable. They come off like, "we're so bad," and all, and they disappear a year later, so I think my longevity proves I'm legitimate. They're like, "Well, I guess he wasn't kidding after all."
GA: What were you in the hospital for?
GG: Blood poisoning and a bunch of other stuff, my fever was like 104. I get that a lot. That was my first real tour. Some of these doctors can't believe I'm still walking around, it's like, "Why are you alive?"
GA: What happens when other people get hurt at the shows? Has anyone ever sued you?
GG: Well, the club gets sued sometimes. No one's ever sued me, no. (Pause) Nope, no one's ever sued me. A girl at the Covered Wagon (San Fransisco, CA) show got her arm broken, and I think she sued the club. She might've won, too. There's been a lot of those. I guess the clubs take the chance 'cause we make 'em a lotta money.
GA: And you do get paid?
GG: Absolutely, like I said, we tell them what to expect, it kinda covers both our asses. I still get checks from some of these record companies, too.
GA: Do you want to talk about the records themselves? Any favorites?
GG: They're all a little different. Each one is just whatever I was living at the time, except for some of the compilations that came out, like the ROIR tape (Hated In The Nation, recently reissued on CD.) I always think the one I just finished is the best one. Freaks (Freaks, Faggots, Drunks and Junkies originally on Homestead) is still great. I was going crazy then, people just wanted to kill me. I was sending everyone I knew hate letters, calling 'em up, my parents were gonna have me kidnapped. Eat My Fuc (Allin's own Blood label, later reissued in different edition by Black & Blue) was cool. The originals of that, I had, I think, fifteen hundred of 'em, and I did all the covers myself in one day. I bought all blank covers and traced my c--- onto 'em with a magic marker, and then drew, like, the cum shooting out. The girl I was seeing at the time kept on [performing oral sex] all day so I could keep it up. That was a long time ago, though, my stuff now's a lot more political. People go, "yeah, right," but it really is.
GA: Almost everything is on a different label, too.
GG: Yeah, I put 'em out on my own a lot, too. In '88 I was on three labels at once, but I had control of all the material. I've had a lot of deals fall through when they hear about some of these arrests and everything, though.
GA: You don't keep addresses, but people always seem to know how to reach you.
GG: I've always had a P.O. box somewhere, ever since the first band. A lot of times someone else takes care of it for me and forwards everything. I try to run something in MAXIMUM and Flipside every month, too, they've always been good. Then Merle has his ads in there all the time, so they might write to him. The Underground is pretty well connected, actually, it's not really that hard to get something to me. Being in here is when I really catch up on my mail, otherwise forget it.
GA: What are the plans when you get out this time?
GG: I'm gonna keep doing what I do, not in certain states, though, obviously. I've got some recording to do, some touring. They're dying to see us in Europe, too, I know that much, so it should be a banner year.
GA: So do you really mean all this Christ stuff?
GG: I believe I am the highest power, absolutely. I am in control at all times. Jesus Christ, God, and Satan all in one.
GA: Yeah, but...you're in jail.
GG: This is nothing. My mind is too strong. They'll never break it. I've been doing this fifteen years now. I'd like to see anyone do what I do for one week. One night. They couldn't stand being in my head, never mind on the stage. Prison is nothing, and I get my respect here, anyway. We're all outcasts here. Some of the people here are pretty OK. More than out there. I think everyone in this country should have to do a year in the hole. Mandatory. They send you to school, what's the diference? At least you learn something here, how to be a better criminal, how the system really works.
GA: Tell me a little bit about the facility and your lawyer.
GG: Jackson is the largest thing of its kind in the world, I'm pretty sure, it's like, eight or nine stories, and just cage on top of cage, these tiny cells, it's like a human zoo. My lawyer was a piece of s---. I could have done six to ten for Ann Arbor, but I pleaded guilty to the lesser charge (felonious assault) and did the two. We had the option to postpone the sentencing and do some more work on it and he says, "No, cause if I can you get you done now I get a Christmas bonus." He had a quota or something. Another thing is this state gets $24,000 a year for the first year, for each of us, and like $17,000 a year after that, so we're a big business in here.
GA: But on the Christ thing, you're not religious, per se?
GG: I believe you can make forces of good and evil work for you, to get what you want. I've done black masses that worked for me.
GA: You seem to teeter on the edge of mainstream exposure a lot.
GG: The Geraldo thing was good (Allin was a guest on an edition dealing with "Art vs. Smut"). Morton Downey would've been good if I didn't get arrested first. The Milwaukee thing got me in a lot of papers. It's too bizarre for the media, usually, I mean the cops are always at my shows, and there'll be like eight paddy wagons. I go, "Jesus, you don't send this many cops to a murder scene," and the cop says, "Ah, we get murders every day. This is a lot more interesting."
GA: For someone so...I don't want to say 'conceited,' but you beat yourself up pretty badly. It doesn't really make sense.
GG: I just...it's like I have to do that just to feel something. And that doesn't even work, really. It's like I'm watching this movie and I've gotta smash the screen. I just don't feel it. I've broken all these bones, I've got, like, no teeth left in my head.
GA: What do you want Jane and Joe Average to know about you?
GG: That I'm serious, that I will go to jail, that I will die for what I believe in. I don't know if they'll get it, though. Strip away all the s--- from rock'n'roll and what you got left is me. I don't need anyone. I don't have any influences, any heroes, it's just me. And so far, I think I've done what I set out to do. I do what I want. How many people can honestly say that?
GA: Most people think...well, you know what they think, but you know exactly what you're doing. You're not stupid.
GG: No, not at all. I think what I do is positive, in its own way. It's definitely important. It's breaking through to the next level. I'm not part of any "scene." That's all bulls---, Hardcore, whatever. What I do is real, it's war out there.
GA: Any chance you'll get signed to a major?
GG: Not likely, really, I mean, look who's on the things. People in this lifetime are just not ready for me. They think they've already...I mean, they think Guns'N'Roses are, like, dangerous. Gimme a break. I'll give you danger. (Voice over PA system at Jackson Prison announces phones are being turned off) We're gonna get cut off here in a second, Joe. If that's it, I'll catch you later.
GA: I guess that should do it. Thanks, man.
GG: You got it. We'll see ya.
UPDATE: Musician GG Allin (interviewed last issue) died of a heroin overdose in the early morning hours of June 28, 1993. Allin had been promising his fans for years he'd commit suicide in front of them on stage. He did not get to fulfill his promise. His obit was noted by The Village Voice, The New York Times, Rolling Stone, Spin, Goldmine and even by Rush Limbaugh and Howard Stern. There's been lots of dispute about how much heroin he actually did.
According to his biographer Joe Coughlin, "The funeral was a major circus (wake too). The body was in his leather jacket and a jock- strap that said EAT ME. He was holding a microphone in one hand and a bottle of Jim Beam in the other. People were wrenching the liquor from his arms to slug from it, putting pills in his mouth, pulling the jockstrap down and taking pictures, waving his arms, using the casket as an ashtray, etc. It was a party with a corpse. The stereo was blasting GG's new record and the parlor director was asking for copies of the video. Their drummer was drawing on GG's leg with a magic marker."
Joe Coughlin is currently working on GG Allin's authorized
biography and looking for a book publisher. Interested parties
can contact him at P.O. Box 153, Back Bay Annex, Boston, MA 02117.