"Reason has always existed, but not always in a reasonable form."- Karl Marx
"To: Talent Buyer, Venue Management & Production Staff
From: Jet Rash Bullshit Detector Management and Tour Support Systems
Date: WED 17 DEC 03
Re: problems with local artist
Greetings and warm holiday wishes to you and your staff,
I am writing this letter in hopes that I may spare you the trouble I have experienced lately with a local artist out of the San Diego area. His name is Chris Squire (aka Billy Druid) and he plays in two local San Diego acts, The Tori Cobras and an old favorite of mine, Battalion of Saints. Most of you know me and have worked closely with me in one capacity or another over the last 24+ years of my career in the music business. I have never in all of my years written something like this, then sent it out in a mass mailing, but Mr. Squires actions as of late have caused me great concern. While everyone knows that I am a huge champion of unsigned & independent acts, I cannot in my right mind give you a positive reason to work with this artist on any level, and I would be concerned for your employees safety given Squires erratic and unprofessional behavior that I have recently witnessed.
In conclusion, I wish you all a healthy and profitable new year, Ill see you on the road.
I am willing to discuss this matter with you either Via my office email or by phone"
To priests, soldiers, judges- to men who rear, lead, or govern men,
I dedicate these songs of murder and blood...
My heart has just gotten grasped and twisted out.
Literally...well, not, but that's how I felt when I gave ear to his music for the very first time. What music genre is it, you ask? None. What bands does he sound like? None really. There sure are various musicians/bands that have influenced him in the past and the present, but don't you listen to music with your tamed brain. Whenever I start listening to his new tune, I find myself not breathing. My tension just keeps up high from head to toe. It somehow reminds me of 'Sturm und Drang'. What I think is unique about Billy Druid's lyrical songs is that the substances denote the ash and the diamonds of life and of the world at the same time. It will make you stop moaning and groaning about your doggone night. His guts spilling noise is going to be your styptic agent. If you have the thirst for pure noise, this is for you. And only if you are ready for it.
-NeoTrad, Punk Globe
Then let men kill which cannot share
Let blood and flesh be mud and mire
Scheming imagine, passion willed
Freedom a drug that's bought and sold
So sick and tired of today's anorexic bands' songs nicely packaged that sound inconspicuous and that seem as if the songs are just in different orders from their last albums. Rip-off product, fancy packaging. Billy Druid's tunes, on the other hand, feed your head with a new zest for life while emptying it of the stale mess. It's distinctly good and thrilling to be alone with a wild stray wolf in the dark, instead of lying down with a fine pedigree dog on the rug. Billy Druid is also like the frenetic wolf that has gone through every situation that many could not endure and it has led him to the core of a hurricane he calls home.
Just gorge yourself with his provocative tunes at ear-bleed volume, then you will get the urge to taste more of his unpredictable actions.
- NeoTrad April, 2006
Voice & Axe of The Tori Cobras
Diamond Dog
Czar of The Pure Noise Mafia
I push people's buttons with uncanny precision. So far the myspace mods have deleted eleven profiles of mine.
I think I really pissed them off.
I want to tear the world a new asshole. I want to bring fire down from the sky and burn every hack journalist, pretentious artist, and contrived rock band on the planet. I specialize in psychic warfare, mind control, and rock and roll.
Turn me on and set me loose, cast me into the sea and I will emerge a tsunami. I want to take the world on a snipe hunt and lead it into an abyss. My favorite sounds are explosions, my words are like razors, and my heart is an atom bomb I wear on my sleeve that goes tick... tock...tick...tock... BOOM!! I committed automatic social suicide the day they told me I wasn't a kid anymore, and the day they pour my ashes into the Tia Juana river is the day I start crossing names off my list cuz I plan to haunt fucking assholes from beyond my grave.
Wild Noise!