Whenever I decide to raid my Musical memory bank, I often uncover the same select slew of Artists that can be held accountable for the fiery fascination I have always enjoyed with the expressive art of Music. As an Acne-addled teen I found solace in Music much the same way as any misunderstood youth striving to find a place where they can belong. Music has always been a most attractive magnet for the supposed ‘loners’ who skulk around aimlessly, sporting slogan tee’s and quoting their Alternative idols with a religious rigour. I can clearly recollect hearing ‘Beetlebum’ for the very first time, the initial cut from Blur’s revigorating eponymous effort, a release that enticed me to plunge headfirst into my first real relationship with my first real ‘favourite band’. The sonic, lo-fi effects that can be heard eeking out of that record would lead me to discover other ‘Indie’ bands, most notably those groups that were littering  American college rock radio ie Nada Surf, a trio who’s output would push me into a dizzying Musical journey that would inevitably culminate in my final resting place being my beloved ‘Grunge’ era. Needless to say, I, just like those aforementioned outcasts, fell in lust with the characters that populate the Alternative Music scene. Whether your poison of choice be the dark, almost demonic figure that Trent Reznor has cut for the past twenty years or the flamboyant fancies of Flaming Lip Wayne Coyne, the Alternative Music scene, specifically that of the nineties, was never short on the weird and the wonderful.

Whilst the Alternative Rock phase has had many a tag tossed towards it one undeniable fact remains seldom spoken, the principle members of this ’scene’ remain active to this day. Whether it be through the numerous reunions that have infected the current, in my opinion otherwise lacklustre, Musical landscape, or through forming other acts/cutting solo deals, those jeffe’s of Generation X just WILL NOT DIE!!!!

I put this durability down to one simple factor: TALENT! Those key figures of the last great Musical revolution were just a lot more talented than today’s heavily mascara’d mob. One name that sums up this six letter word better than almost anybody else is HENRY ROLLINS!

Actor, Author, Activist, Publisher, Recording Artist and general all-round good egg,  Hank Rollins is quite possibly the last great renaissance man. To continue with my theme of nostalgia, my favourite memories of Mister Rollins can be summed up by the exuberance exhibited by my Brother and I over a decade ago viewing a somewhat dated spoken word performance on a battered VHS tape that had seemingly been passed around our entire family tree. What we discovered on that historic Spring afternoon was a mere introduction to the true extent of this man’s numerous talents. As was always the case back in those days, my elder sibling boasting more mileage on his Musical clock could testify to being a faithful disciple for several years, however we were both sat in a stunned silence at this spectacle that our innocent eyes were privy too.

For the proceeding ten years we have followed Henry’s somewhat experimental endeavours with a keen interest. From his turn as a White Supremacist in a weekly American drama series to his tireless efforts of raising political awareness throughout the entire World, Rollins continues to shock and surprise with his versatility which is exactly what a roomful of devout converts experienced two days ago when the relentless Rollins touring  schedule rolled into Liverpool.

Infamously intense, heavily inked  and exuding an unparalleled punk pedigree you could be forgiven for reading this gargantuan gladiator wrong. Having fronted seminal Punk pioneers ‘Black Flag’ and his very own ‘The Rollins Band’, Hank’s recorded output is a brutal sprint through the mind of a very angry, extremely disillusioned young man. What Liverpool bore witness to however was a two and half hour insight into a man who has packed several lifetimes worth of adventure into his forty eight years on Earth. Henry Rollins employs the most enquiring mind I believe I have ever come across. Regaling his besotted brethren with tales of adventures  as diverse as sitting down to Thanksgiving dinner with William Shatner to partaking in a trek to the Indian city of Bhopal to pay his respects at the 25th Anniversary of the worst industrial disaster in history. Despite his imposing frame Rollins is actually a fiercely intelligent individual who has crafted his universal knowledge not in a classroom but from scaling the very ends of the planet, viewing downtime as his mortal enemy and choosing instead to venture on leaving no stone unturned as he continues to plough into any new experience that will quantify his quest for adventure. If nothing else you have to respect anyone who can continually crow on for well over two hours without even a refreshing glass of water at hand to recharge.

They say you should never meet your heroes, my rebuttal to such a claim would be to get better heroes for if you can spend an evening in the company of a lauded icon who can engage you for such an amount of time as I did then you are obviously worshipping at the alter of the inferior.

The chills I experienced that night teleported me back to that pimply, pre-pubescent little boy that felt like he was discovering something special all over again.

This is how Music, or Art in general for that matter, should consistantly make you feel, sadly it’s an all too rare occurrence but those few impassioned souls can still envoke this most desired reaction and make you realise why you got into all this in the first place.

Thank you for reading this – Marty!

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