clinging to the wreckage

  As a teenager, I saw a video of GBH playing live in Stoke, England, and it absolutely inspired me. I loved the sound, the energy, the chaos. I dreamed of someday seeing them live. In recent years I have seen them four times. Two of these occasions were in the last two weeks, once in Las Vegas, and last night in Dallas. To be able to see GBH in 2023 is something I am truly grateful for, and I am still amazed by their energy and power. They are legends and yet so down to earth. I took a break on the patio last night just before they played, and the vocalist was standing next to me casually chatting to the people around him. Then he got up on stage and set the place ablaze. Looking back, it never fails to amaze me how life unravels, and I am so grateful, always, for all of the opportunities I have had and all of the things I have done. ​

  Arriving home from Las Vegas and returning to normality is not easy. Reality is a joke. Where are the pools with the drugs and the booze and the punks and the tattoos? I don’t take drugs, but I strongly encourage them, especially for people who are boring. For the past five days I have been in Las Vegas for the Punk Rock Bowling Music festival and… well, where do I begin? Las Vegas is extraordinary. I arrived at my hotel, downtown, to a street full of punk rockers… more than I had anticipated even though the festival was starting that night. I did not realize at the time, due to my confusion over the time zone, that Greg Graffin of Bad Religion was in the hotel at that very moment in the midst of a book signing event. As well as this, bands were setting up at the Swimming Pool on the third floor for performances that would stretch into the night. This was to set the scene for the weekend. I struggled to get up to my room on the 10th floor because the escalator to the pool wasn’t ...