So I was on the train one day, it was a Monday to be precise. I was running errands in Brooklyn and after stopping at Nicolas, on Fulton St in downtown Brooklyn, and seeing some friends there I was heading back into the city. I felt like it was a good day for me. I turned the corner on Fulton st. and on to Flatbush ave. and proceeded down into the subway. I decided I was going to stop off in the est village before I made my way uptown, so I was going to take the 4 train into the city. I looked down the tunnel. I saw the head lights of another station not that far away and a train was pulling away from it. My bags began to weigh in my hands. I hope I was going to get a seat in the oncoming train. As the train was slowing down and pulled up to the station I noticed there were open seats in the car through a window. The doors opened. I did my usual New Yorker hustle, the ol' push the old lady out the way if she's in your way because or she or the baby mama would get you first and take the seat hustle, into the car. I stopped. Before me was a legend. Not like the movie but a genuine rock legend. My thoughts raced to Detroit and the online doc I saw last week with friend about the city, in part because he's from their also because members of his band we're in it. Before me was none other that fricking MICK COLLINS. *Pause If you don't know who Mick Collins is take a look,
The band went on to produce a few albums before a break-up of the band with Mick eventually creating The Dirtbombs (currently the Gories we're on a reunion tour as of 2010). Originally conceived as a singles release band, they were only going to release 7" vinyl record in the vain of various blues, R&B/soul, and punk traditons, they however eventually put out a album worth of material and have continued to do so.
So there he was sittng there on the four train before me. Mick FRICKING Collins. I was vaclepesd none the least. Why was he here on this train, the train I'm on, where's he going, what's he doing, Who, What, Where, When. My mind was racing to ask him question or say hi in the least. It wasnt like this was the my first time meeting him. I met him once before when I was helping out with the Afro-Punk festival one year and the Dirtbombs played.
-If you pay attention you can see me in the crowd shots near the drummer.
You know I wasn't like a noob or anything. I've been behind the velvet ropes, in the bath rooms of CBGB's, backstage at more concerts than I care to count (pssst that isn't were the music is, its live and on stage) I know how to act around artist but for some reason I was loosing my cool seeing him just sitting there. He kinda looked like he was in a funky mood, but I was the eager puppy trying to recognition. I went through all the emotions, Acknowledgment - "Oh my fricking moon shine its Fricking MICK COLLINS". Regression - "I wonder if he remebers that time I also saw him outside that dumpling place on 23rd st".. Anticipation - "Just look up, just look my way oh geez what do I say?". Denial - "Maybe he doesn't know who the fuck I am and my staring at him like a salivating puppy is giving him the creeps, piff naw Mick it me". Realization - "Sigh I have my own curse, doomed to be never remembered by anyone." So as the train swept through the stops and my heart pounded out "Sharpest Claws" the train filled and my direct line sight, glare, was obstructed. I reached my stop my head all spinning from lack of air and I realized that it wasn't my stop oh well. Lesson - maybe I should pick my guitar and lean to play it so I can have random people hyperventilate when they see my just just being me on the train.
Basic Blac the Zine
Read the Digital copy below, just click.
Basic Blac#2 Summer 2010