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Part I: 3 Days in Berlin

14 Sep
suspect imke photo

Suspect Parts in the basement of The Franken, Kreuzberg. Photo by Imke Wagener.

Disclaimer: Berlin’s vibrant and frequently turbulent history includes two world wars, war atrocities, surveillance, torture, rape, murder, and of course an incredibly positive transformation into one of the world’s most culturally vibrant cities.  I will discuss all of these subjects as they struck a nerve as I dug into Berlin’s stimulating history. 

My Brief Background:

In 2008 I was living in Madrid teaching English, singing in the band Mano De Mono, and working as a DJ on weekends. My American rock n roll band Clorox Girls had broken up, and my heart was aching to write and play some new music. My friend Chris Bell from Seattle punk band The Briefs had been living in Berlin in-between touring, and he suggested that we start a side-project. I recorded some of my new songs on a cassette tape and mailed it to Berlin. A few months later we recorded the Suspect Parts debut single in the cold of a bitter Berlin winter. Behind the dials in the engineer booth of a small analog studio was Smail from legendary Berlin punk band The Shocks.  After the single was released, we recruited James “Sulli” Sullivan from UK teen heart throbs Ripchord on lead guitar and Smail on bass. After a couple of tours and a couple more singles, Smail was replaced by the affable and ever-capable Andru Bourbon from Berlin kamikazis Radio Dead Ones on bass. Our band was complete.  Since then Berlin has been Suspect Parts’ home base and we meet up once a year to rehearse, record, and tour.

Even though I have been spending time in Berlin over the last 10 years, it is usually a whirlwind trip with most of our limited time spent in rehearsal rooms, the recording studio, in the tour van, and at night getting drunk with old friends in Kreuzberg. I was ashamed to say that I had not seen many of the sights in Berlin and had not had a chance to really dig deep into Berlin’s complicated history.

Here we go!

My cheap flight from Los Angeles was on Polish Lot Air with a change over in Warsaw. I originally planned on staying in Warsaw and taking a train south to Krakow. I planned to have a 1 week mini-vacation in Poland before I had to get to Berlin to rehearse with the guys.  Sadly, I tore the meniscus in my left knee in 2 places, so I cancelled my trip to Poland and decided instead to rest up at my bass player Andru’s flat in Friedrichshain and see some of  Berlin’s historical sights for the first time.

Andru greeted me at Tegel airport with a bottle of Berliner Luft. Pfeffi, a peppermint schnapps of East German origin is the official band schnapps in Suspect Parts, but Berliner Luft often fills in. Andru also brought a couple of bottles of ice cold Berliner Kindl stored in Mobi Cool mini, our band’s official cooler. What a good man.



Oberbaum Bridge Photo Credit: Liz Weselby

Andru and his girlfriend Saskia both had work in the morning, and after having coffee with Andru, I decided to see the East Side Gallery and take a boat trip down the River Spree as a way to both see some sights and rest my torn meniscus knee.  Before I left Los Angeles, I decided not to purchase phone service in Germany and instead to rely on my Wifi. This was definitely a mistake. While I pride myself on my sense of direction and my old school navigation capabilities, obviously a smartphone is such a useful tool especially when trying to navigate unfamiliar streets and Berlin’s daunting map of their S Bahn, U Bahn, bus, and tram system.

I wandered down to the river Spree. The East Side Gallery is a fantastic 1.3 kilometer-long collection of art that covers the former Berlin Wall. Most parts of the wall were dismantled after 1989, but the 1.3 km East Side Wall remains as a symbol of freedom (Hasselhoff “Looking For Freedom” anyone?). The graffiti art displays political messages, artistic visions and messages of hope after the fall of the Berlin wall.

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“Mortal Kiss” by Dimitri Vrubel, showing Erich Honecker and Leonid Brezhnev in a lip lock

To rest my knee, I bought a ticket on the first 2.5 hour boat ride down the River Spree at 10:30am and had a coffee and a sandwich while I waited.  I foolishly turned down the 3 Euro English translation, and on a boat full of German tourists, sat on the top deck in the sweltering summer heat while the monotone pre-recorded tour played in German for 3 hours. (I caught that Adolf Hitler did something off to the right of the boat, the German tourists stood and took photos. I really wanted to know what happened).


The boat trip was gorgeous. We did a loop on the Spree through the heart of the city. Berlin’s summer has been unusually hot and atypically long, so there were plenty of shirtless rotund German men sunbathing in Berlin’s many parks alongside the river.  Through the canal we went through Kreuzberg, past the Technology Museum (Deutsches Technikmuseum) and up through Zoologischer Garten and Tiergarten before passing Museumsinsel (Museum Island) with a beautiful view of the Berlin Dome.

On the boat they served Beer, coffee, and food. After a coffee I had 2 beers during the course of the 3 hour tour.  While Germans are strict rule takers and rule givers, they are extremely relaxed about drinking and smoking. The staff of the boat lit up cigarettes on the top deck around the small children and old people. The smoke even seemed to bother some of the older women, but they didn’t say anything. If it’s not against the rules, why bother complaining?

The boat captain smoked cigarettes and drank a Red Bull. He told some jokes in German in between the pre-recorded tour and the mostly older German tourists laughed at his jokes and gave him a hearty round of applause at the end of the tour.  As Berlin is a capitol of culture as well as counter culture, the stereotype is that everyone in Berlin has dyed hair, piercings and tattoos. The boat conductor and the two men working on the boat all had prominent tattoos and piercings,  so maybe the stereotype exists for a reason.

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The Stasi Museum, in the former Stasi Headquarters, Lichtenberg, Berlin. Photo Credit: Gordon Haws

After the boat ride, I decided to check out the Stasi Museum. The Stasi Museum is located in the headquarters of The Ministry for State Security (MFS) AKA The Stasi. Three floors of exhibits take you through the offices of the Stasi showing their various surveillance devices, their infiltration of all parts of East German society, their brutal methods of blackmail and extortion, and the intact office of Erich Mielke, the last GDR Minister for State Security, which is preserved in its original condition.  It was an extremely powerful and interesting museum, with an unforgiving presentation.

There’s something uniquely creepy about walking through this building, through these offices, seeing the faces and the names of the Stasi and their official duties. It was a frightening time. In Berlin they seem to excel at presenting these vicious facts in a unvarnished way.  It’s a way of respecting the victims of oppression while holding those responsible to naked accountability.

The museum presentation is direct and brutal – just like the perpetrators of these inhumane offenses were. I would highly recommend visiting the Stasi Museum to fans of the 2006 film The Lives of Others (original German title: Das Leben der Anderen). When I get back home, I’m going to watch the movie again for a fresh perspective after being inside of Erich Mielke’s office. (Edit: After nursing my travel exhaustion at home, I re-watched the film and loved it even more. If you haven’t seen it, please do watch The Lives of Others. It’s available to rent on YouTube in the States for $3)

Erich Mielke, head of the Stasi, and his office in The Stasi Museum. Photo Credit: Alamy

What particularly stood out to me about Mielke’s office was seeing his extremely rigid breakfast demands. He provided a crudely drawn but insanely specific diagram for his secretaries. Mielke demanded that his breakfast be served in a strictly particular way. The bread, eggs, and other breakfast foods had to be placed on a specific part of his plate (or else).  The secretaries kept his hand-drawn breakfast paper for any new hires to learn how to present this megalomaniac with his breakfast and not be subject to his certain ruthless castigation. His child-like drawing is displayed just outside of his office.

The heat was even more intense in the Stasi’s old HQ and after 3 floors of this stifling environ, I was ready for a beer.

I bought 4 trips on the S-Bahn (Stadtschnellbahn – city rapid railway) ) and U-Bahn (Untergrund-bahn  underground railway) which was given to me on four separate tickets.  A ticket has to be punched to validate it before boarding the train and they love to inspect the trains and give stiff fines to anyone who doesn’t validate their ticket.  I thought that my ticket just had to be punched once in the morning, but I was incorrect and a fare enforcement official forced me to depart the train while he printed me out a 60 Euro fine. A ticket has to be punched every 2 hours (unless a day pass is purchased) which I did not know. This 2 hour rule was not clear on the ticket machine or the ticket, and as I’m not fluent in German, I did not know this.  The ticket guy was very friendly, however and chatted with me as he printed out my fine paperwork. (I didn’t pay the 60 Euro fine. We’ll see if they mail it to me)

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In my familiar stomping ground of Kreuzberg, I strolled over to Coretex Record Shop where Andru my friend and bass player works, and he had already left for the day. I went down Wiener Strasse to visit my old friend Oihane at Wowsville Record Store and Bar, turned on Ohlauer Str. and had a very lovely couple of beers there. If you love old rock and roll, then you will love Wowsville. (I have yet to try Wowsville Pizza across the street although everyone tells me that it is great)

In the evening, my old friends Tim and Imke invited me to a BBQ on the rooftop terrace of their flat in Kreuzberg. Their whole apartment building seemed to have the same idea, and there were four separate groups of friends and family all enjoying Berlin’s extended summer. The rooftop had a great view and Tim’s BBQ sausages were excellent. We drank Sekt, German sparkling wine, and some white wine, then had a Campari and Soda after dinner while enjoying their rooftop view of Kreuzberg. Excellent stuff. A fantastic close to my first day in Berlin.

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Me and the neighbors enjoying the rooftop sun. Photo Credit: Imke Wagener



Soldier, statue, and banner at the Soviet War memorial in Treptower Park. Berlin. Photo Credit: JoeP

On the recommendation of a few German friends, I went to Treptower Park to see the largest Soviet monument outside of Russia.  Soviet Troops experienced the highest number of casualties out of all the Allies during WWII, 8.7 million. 20,000 Red Army troops were killed in 1945 during the final month of fighting in Berlin.  In Treptower Park, the Soviets built the monument to honor their fallen troops during the war, and 7000 were buried there. Stark, patriotic, and massive, the monument is truly something to see.  I had conflicting feelings on the monument after reading about the brutal rape of German women at the hands of Soviet troops. From Wikipedia:

Estimates of the numbers of German women raped by Soviet soldiers have ranged up to 2 million. According to historian William Hitchcock, in many cases women were the victims of repeated rapes, some as many as 60 to 70 times. At least 100,000 women are believed to have been raped in Berlin, based on surging abortion rates in the following months and contemporary hospital reports, with an estimated 10,000 women dying in the aftermath. Female deaths in connection with the rapes in Germany, overall, are estimated at 240,000.Antony Beevor describes it as the “greatest phenomenon of mass rape in history”, and has concluded that at least 1.4 million women were raped in East PrussiaPomerania and Silesia alone. According to Natalya Gesse, Soviet soldiers raped German females from eight to eighty years old. Soviet and Polish women were not spared either. When General Tsygankov, head of the political department of the First Ukrainian Front, reported to Moscow the mass rape of Soviet women deported to East Germany for forced labour, he recommended that the Soviet women be prevented from describing their ordeal on their return to Russia.

When Yugoslav politician Milovan Djilas complained about rapes in Yugoslavia, Stalin reportedly stated that he should “understand it if a soldier who has crossed thousands of kilometres through blood and fire and death has fun with a woman or takes some trifle.” On another occasion, when told that Red Army soldiers sexually maltreated German refugees, he reportedly said: “We lecture our soldiers too much; let them have their initiative.”

Obviously, heinous war crimes were committed by Nazi soldiers and many atrocities were experienced by scores of civilians during both world wars, but it seems that the rape of 2 million German women, 100,000 in Berlin alone, by Red Army troops, hasn’t been adequately addressed.

That said, its important to keep in mind that out of the nearly 9 million Russian troops killed during the war, and the 20,000 who died during the final days of fighting in Berlin, many of them were undoubtedly good people. They were mostly young men who were conscripted into war without a choice, and they had to kill or be killed. War has the capability of turning good men into monsters, animals, devoid of any sense of morality. 

We truly need to learn from the past in order to ensure that these types of atrocities won’t happen again. Unfortunately when one looks with a clear perspective into Palestine, Syria, Afghanistan, Iraq, and Ukraine, it doesn’t look like we are doing too well learning from our ancestors’ horrendous mistakes. War should be avoided at all cost.

Sorry to be so heavy here, but its a heavy subject. Does anyone need a beer yet?

DAY 2 BERLIN (Continued)


Museumsinsel (Museum Island. The Fernsehturm Berlin – Berlin’s TV tower in the background. This East German TV tower was used to transmit signals to GDR East Berlin and beyond. It remains the tallest structure in Germany.) Photo Credit: Thomas Wolf

In the afternoon I went to the DDR Museum near Museumsinsel. There was a line and it was packed full of tourists. While the hands-on exhibits are presented in an interesting way, somehow the museum didn’t hit me as hard as the Stasi Museum did.  While the DDR Museum tries to present what life was like in East Germany from the 50s to present I don’t think it adequately showed the fear, the stress, the hopelessness of many who lived in the DDR although there were quite a few people who were perfectly happy in the DDR and some even preferred the more simple way of life after the fall of the Berlin wall brought capitalism to the formerly socialist state. I bought a couple of tacky presents in the gift shop and continued my wandering.

I walked over to Museum Island, Museumsinsel to take a rest inside of the Berliner Dome, a beautiful cathedral, constructed between 1894–1905 under the supervision of Kaiser Wilhelm II. The roof was destroyed by a fire bomb during the 1940s and it took many years to repair. The crypt below the church has the bodies of some important folks including various Kaisers, a young princess, and some prominent former members of the church. It was beautiful inside and very quiet which was a nice respite from the extremely frantic tourist activity going on outside.

After resting in Berliner Dome and exploring the crypt below, I headed over to the Neus Museum on the recommendation of my friends Imke and Tim.  The Egyptian exhibit was phenomenal.  The sarcophogi and the presentation on the Egyptians concept of their underworld was fascinating and mysterious. I perused hundreds, maybe thousands of ancient Egyptian artifacts excavated by German archaeologists in the 1800s and 1900s. 

However, the bust of Nefertiti had the most impact on me. Upon seeing her face, I felt like I knew her, it hit me emotionally. It hit me hard. I had seen the image many times before, but standing there, looking at her face, my eyes teared up as if I was looking into the face of an old friend, an old lover, someone I held dear.  It was an incredible feeling.

The Bust Of Queen Nefertiti in the Neus Museum, Berlin. Photo Credit: Getty

In the evening I took a quick rest back home in Friedrichshain then headed to a punk bar called K19 to see local band Berlin Blackouts play with Rotten from the Basque Country. I enjoyed the show and the 2 Euro beers. The Basque punks who had taken over the bar quickly drank all of the cold beer, and when there was only warm beer left, I headed home. Both bands were enjoyable and the crowd reaction to their Basque compatriots was truly wild and rowdy. For a moment I felt like I was in an ocupa in a pueblo in the Pais Basquo, drinking Pacharan with my rat-tailed, mulleted, fanny pack wearing friends.

Here’s Rotten Amairu. This song rules pretty hard…

The word Amairu seems to have been taken from a movement in the 1960s and 70s in the Basque Country to re-establish Basque culture. I have toured the Basque Country a few times and my stepdad Pedro is from Bilbao, the biggest city in Pais Basquo. One of the small town Basque punks at K19 educated me on the 300 Basque political prisoners still held by Spain. While I disagree with any kind of violence including the tactics of ETA (who are/were what the IRA was to Ireland), I can understand the raw emotion behind ETA’s tactics.  The Spanish dictator Franco cut the tongues of people who spoke their own language like Catalan, Basque, or Gallego. People were frequently imprisoned and tortured by the fascists for speaking their own language or practicing their own culture. I understand the raw emotion behind Basque separatism and Catalan separatism, but I don’t think separating from Spain is the answer.

I don’t think that Rotten Amairu realize that their Fred Perry polo shirts from England, their Adidas shoes from Germany, their Epiphone guitars from the US, and their Marshall amps from England are not manufactured in the Basque country, and that separation, like Brexit, could increase the cost of imports double or triple the cost of what they paid for their Oi!/punk gear. Just a practical observation of an incredibly emotional and volatile subject.

Between 1968 and 2002 about 800 people were killed in Spain as a result of ETA attacks, about 2,000 injured. 343 of the 829 people killed were civilians.  I understand the anger towards Fascist Franco Spain, but disagree with killing and maiming innocent people because of separatist politics and also disagree with punk bands who may sympathize with ETA. I cant speak for the punk band Rotten Amairu from Larraga -Tafalla, Basque Country, but I am assuming that they sympathize with ETA. Maybe I am wrong. Please correct me if I am wrong.

That said, the Rotten Amairu song I posted above is pretty damn good. Please check it out. I do have a soft spot for the Basque Holy Trinity of pacharan, pintxos, and brutalll punk rock after all.



Abhörstation on Teufelsberg. An abandoned Cold War-era NSA listening station.

I’ve been everywhere, man…

ON DAY 3 IN BERLIN, my friends Tim and Imke took me everywhere.  Tim temporarily had a rental car because of one of his jobs being located quite far away. They kindly took this as a chance to jetset me around Berlin.  As Tim told me during the high-speed breakneck tour, as Berlin was separated into East and West, Berlin often has 2 pairs: two Zoos, 2 Opera Houses, 2 sets of government buildings, 2 TV towers, and so on.  We were to see many of these pairs today.

I don’t remember the order of Timke’s grand tour de Berlin, but I do remember the key stops:

Kongresshalle Berlin AKA:  Die schwangere Auster: The Pregnant Oyster

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Imke in front of Kongresshalle Berlin AKA “Shwangerer Auster” (the pregnant oyster) PhotoCredit: Justin Maurer

Abhör Station on top of Teufelsberg – massive American NSA listening station from the cold war.

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Imke and Tim at Teufelsberg. Photo Credit: Justin Maurer

Kaiser Wilhelm Church: bombed out, bullet riddled and the incredible rebuilt chapel next to it. The pastor in the 1930s and 40s was jailed multiple times for speaking out against the Nazis. The church was heavily damaged in an air raid as well as damaged by scores of bullets and shells during heavy fighting during the final days of the war. The interior of the new church next door is  absolutely breathtaking. It has 21,292 stained glass inlays which were imported from France. The glass, designed by Gabriel Loire, was inspired by the colors of the glass in Chartres Cathedral. As Berliners love to give their buildings nicknames, Kaiser Wilhelm Church is nicknamed “der hohle Zahn”, “the hollow tooth” and the new church is nicknamed “Lippenstift und Puderdose”, “the lipstick and the powder box”.

One fond memory is looking down on the monkeys from the mall next to Zoologischer Garten (rot arsch pavian)

Bernauer Strasse – Berlin Wall Memorial, honors all who died trying to escape with their individual photographs. They also have a simulated view of the death strip with a self-manned automatic machine gun. Seeing the original wall at Bernauer Str. was very powerful.

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Imke at Bernauer Str. Berlin Wall Memorial. Photo Credit: Justin Maurer

The Holocaust Memorial

The Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe (Denkmal für die ermordeten Juden Europas) is also known as the Holocaust Memorial (Holocaust-Mahnmal).

This memorial to Jewish Holocaust victims consists of 2,711 concrete slabs placed on a sloping field. Walking through the concrete maze gives one the feeling of claustrophobia, or feeling trapped, lost. The slabs are organized in rows, 54 of them north–south, and 87 heading east–west at right angles but set slightly askew to contribute to the feeling of confusion, perhaps hopelessness as one wanders through the maze.  An attached underground “Place of Information” (Ort der Information) holds the names of approximately 3 million Jewish Holocaust victims.

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Imke at the Holocaust Memorial. Photo Credit: Justin Maurer

Across the street from the Holocaust memorial is the bluntly-titled Memorial to Homosexuals persecuted under Nazism (Denkmal für die im Nationalsozialismus verfolgten Homosexuellen)

Through a concrete slab, there is a video on replay that shows same-sex couples kissing. It is a simple– yet touching monument.

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Imke and Tim looking at the same-sex couples kissing video displayed in the obtusely titled “Memorial to Homosexuals Persecuted Under Nazism”

Brandenburger Tor

Brandenburger Tor, Berlin

Brandenburger Tor AKA The Brandenburg Gate



The Reichstag (Reichstagsgebäude or Deutscher Bundestag – Plenarbereich Reichstagsgebäude) – The house of German Parliament

Das Bundeskanzleramt AKA The German Chancellery serves the executive office of the Chancellor of Germany, currently Angela Merkel.

Das Bundeskanzleramt

Das Bundeskanzleramt (Angela Merkel’s place)



In between we took a break for Beer and sausages at a Beer Garden in Tiergarten Park: Schleusenkrug. (The red sausages were amazing, I’m still dreaming about them)

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And we closed our day with a beer at Beer Hall in Prenzlauer Berg Prater Garten

Prater Garten

Prater Garten historic Beer Hall in Prenzlauerberg

Many thanks to my old friends Imke and Tim for the best tour of Berlin.

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Imke, Justin, and Tim Photo by Imke Wagener.


I had so much on my mind about Berlin. All that I could do was let it sink in. Berlin is far from undiscovered territory as English-speaking tourists and trust fund kids of all stripes flood into Germany’s capital. Like most major cities across the world, Berlin is experiencing gentrification, housing-shortages, and major rent increases. Google has even sunk its claws into counter-culture stronghold Kreuzberg, opening up shop on Ohlauer Strasse (much to the chagrin and anger of locals).

That said, a beer in the supermarket is about 50 cents and a beer at the “Speti” is about 1.50. You can still find falafel for 3 or 4 Euros. There’s amazing international food everywhere including Turkish, Sudanese, Vietnamese, and more. The city is walkable, bikeable, and the public transportation while it can be erratic and confusing, for the most part works. The winter is brutal but the spring and summer are gorgeous. Parks and green spaces are everywhere.

At times Berlin can feel like a trendy cesspool full of the worst kind of faux-bohemians. Below this veneer is the real Berlin: full of history, full of culture, full of multi-lingual, well-traveled, well-educated people who care. It can still be a magical place at times. Just don’t be one of those Americans who moves to Berlin and never learns German.  When I was digging around a little looking at other blogs, it was astounding to find people who describe themselves as “Berlin bloggers and freelance yoga instructors.”  Maybe I shouldn’t have a bias against trust fund kids, but sorry, I do. (Kudos to those lucky few who can actually pay their rent in Berlin by blogging and freelance yoga instructing, but seriously, please give me a break!)

I am lucky enough to play in a few rock and roll bands and it still gives me the opportunity to travel sometimes. I’m very blessed. I’m even luckier to have dear friends in Berlin who always make me feel at home. It’s truly incredible to have a city full of friends on the other side of the world.  Thank you, Berlin.

PARTS II AND III Coming Soon! 

PART II: WARSAW and PART III: SUSPECT PARTS DEUTSCH TOUR JOURNAL as well as the complete Season 2 of your favorite travel show, GUTEN MORGEN DEUTSCHLAND! 

Keep your eyes peeled.

Your Pal,





“Song For Sadie”

6 Jul

At my old friend Devon Sampson’s wedding in Mendocino County, I met an amazing violinist, Elizabeth Dequine. We played a few songs around the campfire and I was blown away with her playing. The next day I asked if she wouldn’t mind shooting a quick video for an original song I had written for The Wayward Chapel (country version) and Suspect Parts (power pop version). Elizabeth is 8 months pregnant, and had her other little one running around, who appears in the beginning of the video. Mil gracias a Jake Fernandez for shooting this on his iPhone. We had no rehearsal, she just listened to the chords and joined in. One take. We’re sitting on the front porch of an 1870s Victorian Farmhouse on Jug Handle Farm in Caspar, California. Here’s “Song For Sadie” Enjoy!


“It’s A Long Way To The Bottom”

26 Jun
Photo by Zach Mcaffree _preview

Photo by Zach McCaffree

In 2012 I joined a power-pop/punk group called MANIAC in Los Angeles, California. We recently released our 2nd album “Dead Dance Club” on independent labels Dirt Cult Records and Hovercraft Records .With months of planning, we embarked on a tour of the West Coast of the United States to promote our new album. The tour promotion included shooting a music video for our hit single “City Lights”

Day 1 – Los Angeles, CA @ HiHat with Dark/Light, Fiends, and Cheap Tissue

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As I had a knee injury from playing basketball, I was on crutches. Captain Zappin poked fun when I was at the ATM and imagined a potential newspaper headline, “Gimp overdraws bank account for drugs.”


The HiHat is located in Highland Park on York, the recently gentrified area of a traditionally Latino hood in NorthEast L.A. There’s been loads of heartbreaking stories about grandmothers and small businesses being recently evicted including this article in LA Taco noting Highland Park independent businesses’ rents rising 250%.

However, MANIAC were not in NE LA to gentrify, we were there to launch our white-hot sophomore album “Dead Dance Club” into the hemisphere.  With my bum left knee I wasn’t quite ready to launch anything, but Captain Zappin and his better-half Tamara Eunice helped me carry a bag of ice and a bottle of tequila from the liquor store and up the stairs to the HiHat’s green room where I happily iced my knee and guzzled some tequila. Fiends, Dark/Light, and Cheap Tissue warmed up the crowd, then we had the soundman blare our come-out song “The Ecstasy of Gold” by Ennio Morricone.  In a plume of smoke, I crutched out, we plugged in, and we exploded like a truck-full of Chinese fireworks. (Photos below by Tamara Eunice and Tillie Lams)



Day 2 – San Francisco, CA @ Light Rail Studios w/ Harold Ray & East Side Dynamite & DJ Shannon Shaw

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As MANIAC live in 3 corners of Los Angeles it was a cacophony of text messages, Lyft cars, equipment loading, and then we finally made it to our buddies AVR, Airport Van Rentals at LAX to pick up our steed who someone later dubbed “The Great White Hope” (ya know, after Larry Bird).  From LAX we flew to Carson, home of our virtuoso drummer, Young James Carman.  It only took about 4 hours to get out of LA, then we had a 5 hour drive north to San Francisco.  Trader Joe’s provided some excellent van snacks, including but not limited to turkey jerky, beef jerky, salmon jerky, nuts, trail mix, dried prunes, dried figs, quinoa chips, rose, beer, tequila, and vodka.  Icing my knee while driving was an excellent reason to always have our cooler full of ice cold beer. Fantastic.

After a quick stop at Harris Ranch for an extremely overpriced steak sandwich and some iced tea, we jetted north to Light Rail Studios, in an industrial part of San Francisco sort of near the baseball stadium.  Crossing the Bay Bridge while being at an 11/10 on the piss scale is always pleasant. Squirming in your seat and enjoying the view of Alcatraz while nearly wetting yourself was how this van driver rolled across I-80 to the 101.

After a sprint into some SF bushes, we found the venue, a very interesting place, recording studio, rehearsal studios, film studio, and bar. It was the boss man Parker’s birthday party, and he was savvy enough to have it be sponsored by a vodka brand, so entrance to the show was free, and the bands and DJ had their own signature vodka drinks being made. I ordered a MANIAC and regretfully it was watered down and weak. Good thing we came prepared with a well-stocked van bar.

DJ Shannon Shaw of Shannon & The Clams and her soon-to-be-illustrious solo career DJ’d some killer tunes warming up for Harold Ray & East Side Dynamite, who ripped it up with old school rhythm and blues with a horn section and all. Jason Morgan AKA Harold Ray is like a white James Brown.

MANIAC did our thing and people seemed to like it. We received some heart-felt compliments including one from Allyson Baker who fronts one of our favorite SF outfits Dirty Ghosts.

Our entire bass-heavy SF set is here c/o Pressure Drop TV if you care to hear a few flat vocal notes and if you want to see what Young James is wearing.

Day 3 – Corvallis, Oregon @ Cloud & Kelly’s Public House w/ Wups and Kawaii Busters

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It was a 9 hour drive to Corvallis all the way up I-5 North. Our wonderful host Niki woke up early and made us some bacon and eggs. We were up late the night before penning a new hit, “Dwarves In Love”

We found out the Mayor of Corvallis is named Biff Traber. We enjoyed this name very much. When we arrived the venue, an Irish pub, there were families and children enjoying dinner. I made a bee-line to the bathroom to shave. Captain Zappin didn’t feel comfortable shaving in a bathroom where surely fathers and their kids were apt to burst in and interrupt our “me time.”  I just brashly began behaving like a man who lives in a van and lathered up and began to shave. A father and his kids came into the bathroom and I said, “Don’t mind me, I’m just in one of the bands playing tonight, we just drove 9 hours from San Francisco.”   The man said, “No problem, you guys should have a pretty good crowd tonight, it’s the big college graduation ceremony tomorrow, so all of the kids parents are in town.”  This was said while little boys were peeing and while I was shaving. Only slightly awkward.

The opening band had ponytails, backpacks, and canteens. Someone mentioned that they looked like a bunch of school shooters. They most definitely had similar taste in men’s fashion as Eric Harris and Dylan Klebold.   They played thrashy, screamy music. We came out with napalm in our hearts and there was even an all-girl mosh pit going for a song or two.  Portland/Corvallis celebrity Chris Crusher gave us the lowdown on Corvallis and told us about the new book he is writing about his travels in Eastern Europe. Captain Zappin and I looked for some late-night cuisine and found a kebab truck as the only available option. The kebab was lackluster, but we sucked it down and our new friends took us to what they told us was the diviest bar in Corvallis “China Delight” AKA “China D’s”.  

“What goes on that is so sketchy there?”

“Dude, they pour the drinks directly in your mouth! One time, Mike from Defiance got stabbed in there.”

“Sounds great to us!”

No one got stabbed or drinks poured directly into their mouths by the bartender, but we did enjoy a few extremely fair priced drinks ($3 beer, $5 well, no tax). Our drummer Jimmy got some frozen Chinese food heated up in a microwave. (photos below by Chris Crusher excluding the photo of Corvallis Mayor Biff Traber)



Day 4 – Portland, OR @ Green Noise Records AND Lay Low Tavern

green n pdx 2

One of our label bosses, Chris Mason of Dirt Cult, set us up with an in-store at Green Noise Records new location on NE Killingsworth as well as a late show at Lay Low Tavern in deep South East Portland.

On the way we stopped by to visit our friends Jonny Cat, Cecilia Meneau, and Ben Corman at their stall at a classic car show at Portland Meadows. As the show was winding down, Jonny Cat invited us to an impromptu BBQ at his place. With the help of Alaskan Fisherman and Portland Cab Driver Kenton McDonald, we purchased some provisions for the BBQ.  Present at the BBQ were members of Portland punk royalty, including but not limited to Ryan from The Rickets, Tina from the Trashwomen, Ben from the Cormans, and more.

We shotgunned some beers and ate too much and that sort of got us ready for our in-store at Green Noise Records.  Opening the show was me, reading a story from my new chapbook of short stories “Mutant Maniac”. I had to promise the owner of Green Noise that there wasn’t anything too bad in the story as it’s a safe space for POC, women, etc. I agree fully with the principles.  I read the story “Aberdeen Skins Never Say Die”. 

green noise

Opening the show was Muscle Dungeon and Ad-Noids. There were a lot of little kids in attendance wearing ear protection. It felt like being in an episode of Portlandia.

The PA kept overloading when we sang backing vocals, but we played a buncha songs and people seemed to enjoy it. Green Noise is the distribution hub for Dirt Cult Records and we really appreciate the support.


Later that night we were at Lay Low Tavern, and it was a free show. We were to get 10% of the bar take. The Bloodtypes and Public Eye opened up this one. Both bands put on a great show. We were exhausted from the show earlier but had food, coffee, and alcohol and tried to get enough gusto to kick ass. We did indeed. Thank you very much to Doug and Courtney Burns who enlivened me with tequila and encouragement. Later that night was a blur. Very blurry.


Maniac label bosses Chris Mason (L) and Tim Janchar (R) of Dirt Cult and Hovercraft

Day 5 – Tacoma, WA @ The Valley


We passed through Vancouver, the hometown of Richie Stitch from Red Dons who managed to miss all 3 of MANIAC’s Portland shows and headed north to Tacoma, WA, home of the mighty Sonics and the Wailers.  Our soundtrack on this drive was highlighted by Sir Mix A Lot’s 90s hit, “Bremelo.”

We ate some seafood on the water at a place called Duke’s. The food was overpriced and wasn’t too good and it pissed off Captain Zappin. He was on fire with quotes such as “All of the chowder tastes exactly the same, they are just a different color. It was probably brought in frozen from Omaha, Nebraska.” There was a man behind us who didn’t much care for our laughing and carrying-on.


We did have some nice dirty gin martinis though! And we met a very nice middle-aged lady who used to play Al’s Bar in LA in the 80s. She ended up coming to our show which was pretty cool!

It was a Sunday and this was a pretty quiet night. We played our little hearts out. The promoter Logan was a very sweet guy. Nothing much to report.  The absolutely stunning Rachel Barrett from Rare Forms came out and it was  great to see her as always.


MANIAC enjoy some dirty gin martinis at Duke’s in Tacoma.


Day 6 – Bellingham, WA @ Boscoe’s Tavern

The boys partied with Kicks from The Briefs in Seattle and I caught up with an old friend. We met up in Seattle’s International District and once we made it through the Seattle-Everett traffic snare it was a beautiful drive up I-5 through Snohomish, Skagit, and Whatcom counties.

seattle kix

Jimmy at Kicks’ pad in Seattle. Photo by Andrew Zappin

I saw the band Girl Trouble in Bellingham years ago, and for some reason I still think of them every time Bellingham is mentioned.

We arrived at Boscoe’s 3 hours early, and so we had some time to walk around. We snapped some fotos at the boat yard. Jimmy spotted a crab in the water.

The opening bands were all very friendly and many of them donated to the tip jar. The lovely promoter Sean made sure we got 10% of the bar in addition to tips and it ended up turning out very well for a Monday night.  We decided to cross the border that night and James gave Sean his ganja joints to hold onto until we crossed back.

MANIAC has had missed results crossing the US/Canada border. The first time they let us across without any problems and we played the Biltmore. The 2nd time, two years ago, we were denied due to Zache’s DUI 9 years ago and our friend Cezar’s equally ancient DUI.  This time we had all of our paperwork in order but there was one SNAFU. Zache applied with the Canadians for an entry VISA, sending all documents showing that his 9 year old DUI was since resolved, he’s been granted his license back, etc.  However, the Canadians informed him that it would be 9 months to process.  We decided to try and cross the border anyhow.  After hours of waiting and multiple rounds of questioning (think Hillary Clinton’s 11 hour Benghazi hearing), the border guard convinced Zache the correct pronunciation of “Biltmore” was “Bitmore” and told him if he paid $200 Canadian, he could be granted a 48 hour temporary VISA into Canada.  We paid and also had to declare merch at customs which was a few buildings over in some Indiana Jones warehouse building.  We fucking made it!  We celebrated with some cocktails from the van bar and a cold wrap at Tim Horton’s.

Our very kind host Josh from Fashionism and Chain Whip stayed awake til 3:30 in the morning to greet us with a 6 pack of Pilsner. He told us to watch out for his Pitbull and his Bearded Dragon.  In the morning, Josh made coffee and croissants for us before he had to head to work. Tops Tops host!

Day 7 – Vancouver, British Columbia @ The Astoria


We spent the morning wandering alongside the water in Stanley Park. There were a lot of fit people walking and jogging and biking. I was limping along like Quasimodo. Medicated with a little Trader Joe’s rose and that helped a little.  We saw otters and cranes, boats, and bridges. We even got sunburned! Captain Zappin and I spotted a filmic moment straight out of “7 year Itch” which was truly glorious, and especially fitting, being that we all were experiencing 7 days of tour itch.

Marilyn Monroe In 'The Seven Year Itch'

After a wonderful MANIAC band meal at a lunch special sushi place in Gastown ($25 Canadian for a 45 piece party platter of sushi), we went to visit our friend Jeff from AUTOGRAMM.  He has a gorgeous backyard with a skate ramp and we watched him skate for awhile while drinking some ice cold frosty dogs.

It was a perfect afternoon hang. We headed to The Astoria on Hastings.  We loaded in and sound checked, then I had a casual dinner with an old flame, the lovely Sadie Olchewski. It was wonderful to catch up with her (secret fact: Pretty much every song on all 3 Clorox Girls albums is about her).   The other MANIAC guys ended up accidentally eating in the same restaurant with CC from Autogramm which was a hilarious coincidence. On tour, privacy and personal space are quick and fleeting privileges.

You’re in a band now/you’re not behind a plow/you’ll never get rich/you’ll never get rich/you’re in a band now

Opening up the night were Corner Boys who is Patrick from Hosehead Records and Joel Butler from Nervous Talk. They played great catchy late 70s style punk/pop reminiscent of Northern Ireland’s Good Vibrations Records.  They asked me to sing The Simpletones “TV Love” with them and Patrick asked me if I knew the lyrics. I lied and said “Yes.” I know the song, but definitely don’t know the lyrics by heart.  Luckily Patrick backed me up. I spilled some beer on stage and had a serious banana peel moment when I tried to do a high kick and fell directly onto my ass. Luckily the move looked like it was previously planned. Again, another injury nearly avoided!

Fashionism were up next! They are Bobby Beefy, Robin, Jeff from the Tranzmitors and Josh (our wonderful host who I mentioned earlier) newer band. They recently returned from a successful tour of Finland and North Eastern European former Soviet-Bloc countries.

MANIAC did our thing and were followed by some more of our pals Needles//Pins. We most recently hung out with Tony, Macey, Jesse, and Adam at San Diego’s Awesome Fest. It was very nice to see them!

All of our pals from THE BALLANTYNES showed up (Jarrod, Vanessa, Jennifer Wilks  Corey, Max, and Mick).  Jarrod had been rammed by a police car while on his bicycle and had his arm dislocated in the scuffle that ensued. Poor fella! Hope that he heals up soon! MANIAC hearts the Ballantynes.

Jimmy and I grabbed our cooler on wheels and burned the midnight oil over at Macey’s under-construction penthouse apartment with a cast of characters from Sore Points, Needles//Pins, Corner Boys, and Ballantynes.  Macey made these great gin cocktails with freshly cut fruit. Our cooler was emptied, cigarettes were smoked, every drop drank.  Young James and I traveled by cab back to Vanessa’s place where she kindly put us up on her couches.


J Mau & Joel Butler Photo Credit: Andrew Zappin

In the morning we had a lovely breakfast with CC, Jeff, and Macey, and we took this lovely photo afterwards.


On the US border side, we were stopped, had to go inside to immigration/customs, and had to pay $13.52 for the merchandise that we sold in Canada. This made absolutely no sense, but we did it anyway. The border guard looked like Egon from Ghostbusters.

Day 8 – Seattle, WA @ Funhouse


We stopped in Bellingham to pick up Jimmy’s ganja joints from Sean who promoted our show at Boscoe’s.  We also found our smoke machine inside of Boscoe’s. Double luck!

We had a short visit with my Uncle John who taught me how to play my first few chords on guitar in 1994. He was smoking weed in his car parked in an Olive Garden parking lot. He was also dressed like a pirate. Here he is making out with my neck for no apparent reason.


Underneath the freeway underpass near El Corazon/The Funhouse was a tent city where the folks underneath were doing all kinds of unsavory things including but not limited to drinking malt liquor, smoking crack, and shooting heroin.  We saw evidence of all 3.  The venue wouldn’t let us load in because security wasn’t there yet, but we had a very nice hang with the Brain Drain and Donzis folks out front of the venue and invited Will Donzi into our van bar. I went to high school on Bainbridge Island with Jeremy and Andy from Brain Drain. It’s a small world after all.


The tattooed doorman at Funhouse was extremely rude and uncooperative. A few police cars pulled up and began questioning him about something. We overheard something about a gun, a scuffle, something strange being afoot at the circle K.  The tattooed doorman soon left with what seemed like were a bunch of office supplies in a box, as if he was just fired from his office job and another door guy took over who seemed like he didn’t know what was going on. He was slightly friendlier than the first one.

Donzis opened up the show and absolutely ripped it up!

Brain Drain were next. They’ve recently released an excellent album.

The sound woman was in a rush and she said that we had already eaten 6 minutes into our setup time. I told her we’d play 6 minutes less.  Lars from Bread and Butter bought me a shot of well tequila and I found myself in the bathroom dry heaving before our set. Nothing was coming out, just a steady and slightly painful heave.  Nick from Downtown was in the bathroom and I asked him how he mustered enough energy to play without drinking.  He told me it was all nerves and nervous energy.  I ran back out and we jumped on stage and brought the fire to Seattle.

I tried a stupid jump off of a raised part of the stage and fell, also knocking my guitar into disrepair.  I also knocked over a microphone much to the disdain of my fellow Maniacs. Somehow I was able to turn up and make it work for the rest of the set, but my guitar’s input jack was hammerschlocked and kaput.

Nearly all of our friends from Seattle were there, it was probably the best energy of any show the whole tour. Everyone was all smiles and very supportive. We fed off of the energy and brought the hammer down.

Afterwards we parked the van and then things got real blurry.  A lot of beautiful people were out with us that night including but not limited to Conor St. Kiley, Ursula, Chris Costalupes, Rachel Barrett, Will Donzi, Miles and Emi, and many more.  The blur blends and it is a positive blur.  We ate some tortas and the mole torta gave me epic heartburn, the clutching your chest and almost crashing the car kind of heartburn.

Day 9 – Portland, OR @ Black Water Bar


On the way down Jonny Cat convinced us to stop by his place for another impromptu BBQ.


The Jonster, Kicking cancer’s ass one day at a time with his self-designed “cock sucking dick” t-shirt

Zache and Andrew had dinner with Zache’s mom who lives just outside of Portland.


Seve from Autistic Youth and Public Eye came out as well as Alaskan Boat Skipper Kenton McDonald.  It was very enjoyable.


At Black Water we bumped into Dark/Light and the Stops and had pleasant conversations with them.  Zache and I were nearly losing our voices, and Candy from Dark/Light gave us a bunch of lozenges and other remedies.  Doug from Red Dons, Clay from Clorox Girls, Zach and Samantha from Piss Test, and loads more were out and about.   STOPS and DARK/LIGHT were great.   MANIAC brought the fire again and torched the place as best we could.  It was a quiet night and everyone slowly dispersed.  The kind gents from MUSCLE DUNGEON put us up in their place. We had a very nice walkabout and had some pizza and a last drink before bed.  We slept on floor and couch and army cot.


Our hosts from Muscle Dungeon in PDX

Day 10 – Eureka, CA @ Siren’s Song Tavern

It was a 7 hour drive to Eureka from Portland, and we stopped at Guitar Center in Eugene to have them repair my guitar and restring Zache’s bass.  After we cut over from Grant’s Pass it was a gorgeous drive, winding alongside a river and through the forest. Past Crescent City was a grove of Redwood Trees and an impossibly picturesque cliff side forest along the coast. Words can’t begin to describe how beautiful it was and how amazing the untamed northern California coast can truly be.

I had been in Eureka over 10 years ago and I recall it being full of tweakers, meth, and speed.  This Eureka we pulled into was completely different. Farmers markets, nice shops, clean and bright-eyed people.  We had some pozole at a Mexican restaurant and shared the stage with Nico Bones from Long Beach and Material from Vancouver, Canada.   The bathroom was clean and perfect for shaving.

Nico Bones was recently a contestant on American Idol with this hilarious audition:

MATERIAL from Vancouver had Skidge on drums, a fella who had promoted some basement shows in Vancouver for some of my bands 10 years ago. Their singer Laura had seen Clorox Girls play in her hometown of Calgary when she was “a little kid” in 2007.  I was 24 years old in 2007 and this made me feel old. She asked me why Clorox Girls stopped playing and I told her about 3 guys living off of a ziplock bag full of change in London, thousands of dollars in debt, multiple van breakdowns, record release snafus and all that other stuff that leads to bands breaking up 🙂

Our host and promoter Nick brought us to his beachside shack that was straight out of the pages of Steinbeck’s Cannery Row.  He had this little kitten that was absolutely adorable and we all fell asleep peacefully after chowing down on chile verde burrito leftovers and fucking up our voices with more cigarette smoking.

In the morning we walked over the hill to the beach in Manila (are Manila clams from Manila, California?)  I realized that my high school punk band Maurice’s Little Bastards had played the Manila Community Center there in the late 90s or early 2000s.

Day 11 – Oakland, CA @ Golden Bull Tavern

Our last show of tour was in Oakland.  It was another gorgeous drive through the Redwood Forest and the Avenue of the Giants.  The soundtrack for this drive was this JAM:

Niki shot us pre-show at Mike Dirnt from Green Day’s Rudy Can’t Fail Cafe in Downtown Oakland.

Italian Cherry is Jason Patrone from FM Knives new outfit. I LOVED FM Knives. If you dig the Buzzcocks and The Boys, you’ll dig FM Knives… here’s their 1st album

The woman working the door was extremely unfriendly and uncooperative. She seemed annoyed that we existed and answered our questions with a heavy sigh, roll of the eyes, and even glares.  MANIAC take pride in our degree of politeness, we always say please and thank you and make eye contact.  She took the cake for the most rude and unpleasant door person of the whole tour.   Before we played she thrust $22 into Captain Zappin’s palm and told him that was our pay. She then rushed out the door and took off into the night.  $22 was the most pitiful pay that we have possibly ever received on tour.  The other 2 bands felt bad and gave us their $22 and the sound man gave us $20 out of his $100 pay.  I wonder what the door lady’s pay was?  Out of an $8 door 3 bands receive $66 pay on a Saturday night in Oakland?  It really made us appreciate our Sunday night in Tacoma and our Monday night in Bellingham.    MANIAC will not be playing the Golden Bull again. Dulcinea and Camylle from Midnight Snaxx had some great compliments for us and it meant a lot.   Local celebrity Morgan Stickrod made it out and our Bay Area photographer Niki Pretti snapped some shots of us.


It was the last night of tour!  We went back to Niki’s place in Albany with Drew from Personal and the Pizzas in tow and we burned some serious midnight oil. It’s probably best that it ends like this.  Comment below if I forgot anything.  Love you all.


Justin and MANIAC

Oak 1 niki

Photo Credit: Niki Pretti


Photos below by Niki Pretti:

















Suspect Parts Euro Tour Diary 2017

7 Nov

Suspect Parts, An Introduction

Apocalypse Pop…waiting for the Apocalypse to…drop.”

– Suspect Parts biography.


Suspect Parts in Berlin

About 10 years ago my band Clorox Girls fell apart and I moved to Madrid after an 8 week Euro tour that involved 3 van breakdowns, blood, sweat, tears, and debt (Sex, drugs, and alcohol are a given. Exhaustion beyond belief a more accurate description. I’m working on a book called “Clorox Boy” about it. I’ve also been to therapy.)

Another American expat Chris Bell, from Seattle band The Briefs, was living in Berlin and he suggested that we start a side project and record a 7″ single. That winter we found ourselves rehearsing in sub-zero concrete Berlin. Smail from The Shocks recorded our debut single. Gangly and dapper Englishman , James “Sulli” Sullivan from Ripchord, was recruited on lead guitar. The stylish and punctual German Smail Shock agreed to play bass. Our Apocalypse Pop super-group was formed. We semi-promptly released 4 singles and toured Europe.

2 years ago, Smail dropped out of the group to focus on his analog recording studio. Andru Bourbon from Berlin punk band Radio Dead Ones was enlisted on bass.  We toured Germany, France, and Spain with L.A. punk band Maniac and recorded our debut album in the biting chill of another Berlin winter in Smail’s analog studio.


Suspect Parts soundcheck, Gleis 22, Munster, Germany

October 2017 found the release of Suspect Parts debut album on independent labels Taken By Surprise Records (Germany) and Oops Baby Records (USA). I procured a $550 round-trip ticket from L.A. to Berlin and we hit the autobahn once again.

Stream or order Suspect Parts new self titled LP in North America here

Stream or order Suspect Parts new self-titled LP in Europe here

Leaving Los Angeles

Los Angeles is a constellation of plastic.”

– Norman Mailer

I found a new roommate to help me cover rent while away on tour and had a bunch of pre-tour chores including renting a U-Haul, hauling furniture to a storage space, doing laundry, packing and picking up merch. I criss-crossed Los Angeles, completed most of my list, and grabbed a Lyft to LAX.


My cheap flight was on Air Lingus, an Irish airline that I hadn’t flown before. The merch suitcase was overweight by a few kilos and they wanted to charge me $100 to check my backup guitar. I stashed a few things in my guitar cases and told Air Dingus that I was going to the parking lot to put my backup guitar in the trunk of my car. I checked my free bag and clandestinely boarded the plane with 2 guitars and my carry-on suitcase.

Surprisingly, security at LAX overlooked the half-full bottle of Jimador tequila in my guitar case from a recent Maniac  show in Long Beach.  Jimador and Sprite went down a treat.


During my layover in Dublin, I stopped by the Guinness gift-shop where the Irish kid working the bar informed me of oblivious American tourists ordering “Irish Car Bombs” not realizing the harrowing bloody history with the IRA (embarrassingly enough, in my early 20s I made this same mistake in London and a massive fellow who was in the army ripped my copy of Don Quixote in half while saying repeatedly, “I had mates killed by the IRA.”). Moral of the story, while abroad, if you want to drop a shot of Jameson topped with Kahlua or Irish cream into a Guinness,  call it a “Baby Guinness,” not an “Irish Car Bomb.”  Or just a Guinness will do.


Days 1 & 2 Berlin, Germany

You are crazy, my child. You must go to Berlin.”

– Franz von Suppe


suspect carrots

Snacking on some carrots in the rehearsal room in Berlin. Photo by Daniel Distraction.

Sulli came in from London Heathrow and Andru and Chris grabbed us from Tegel in Berlin. Of course Andru Bourbon brought some beers and a bottle of pfeffy to greet us. What a gent.


Pre-flight Sulli before British Airways lost his duffel bag

In Berlin, we spent most of our first 2 days rehearsing. We also found some familiar sights, excellent Turkish and Syrian falafel, classic Berlin graffiti, and some quintessential Kreuzberg rock n roll bars like the Franken, Wild At Heart, and Rock N Roll Herberge.  Daniel Distraction stopped by our rehearsal room and made a video of us practicing “Alright With Me.”

Andru our bassist is vegan, and always has excellent vegan spreads on-hand.  We had breakfast most days at his house, but splurged on the last day on a band favorite, the “Bon Scott Breakfast” at Rock N Roll Herberge which costs about 4 Euros.


Story time with Falcon at Rock N Roll Herberge, Berlin

British Airways lost Sulli’s bag and so he had to borrow my clothes for a few days. Luckily, the bag was delivered to Cortex Records right before we left. I also had some severe tuning problems with my guitar and we stopped by our friend Martin’s flat for repairs.


Martin repairs Justin’s guitar in Berlin

It was good to see our old friend Ricky as well as our new album for sale at Cortex Records.


Suspect Parts new LP for sale at Cortex Records, Berlin


After 2 long days of rehearsal and a long night partying with old friends, both Sulli and I were on the verge of losing our voices, but we hit the autobahn, hoping for the best.

suspect parts euro tour poster FINAL

Day 3: Dresden, Deutschland @ Chemiefabrik

There was a big number over the door of the building. The number was five. Before the Americans could go inside, their only English-speaking guard told them to memorize their simple address, in case they got lost in the big city. Their address was this: ‘Schlacthof-funf.’ Schlacthof means slaughterhouse. Funf was good old five.”

– Kurt Vonnegut Jr., Slaughterhouse-Five


Our first show was in Dresden at Chemiefabrik where we founded the Down With Dons Movement 2 years earlier. Our friends Red Dons were simultaneously on a European tour playing many of the same clubs, so we started a Blur-Oasis online rivalry which was a lot of fun.  The Down with Dons Magnum opus was our Citizen Kane, shot and directed by our Minister of War, Andrew Zappin. Check out #downwithdons if you want to witness the havoc we wreaked on our old friends during the wartime of fall 2015.

Chemiefabrik was exactly as we remembered it, a shack on the outskirts of the city, not unlike a militia compound. On the inside is a bar and a few Foosball tables as well as a ton of band graffiti and posters.  The sound-man called himself “Flash” and proceeded to mike everything. The tiny concrete room was LOUD.  We sound-checked, had our dinner which was a vegan pasta (Andru opted for the spicy pasta sauce option which I opted out as I was already suffering from diarrhea).

justin sulli

British Airways lost Sulli’s bag and he had to borrow Justin’s clothes for the first few days. Here’s Justin and Sulli in Fat White Family t-shirts pre-schlaff.

The first band were called Tanning Bats from Berlin and had really interesting time-signatures and cool changes in their songs.  Usually opening bands in Germany are quite unimaginative, so Tanning Bats were a pleasant surprise.

Our set in Dresden went down really well and the crowd especially knew the familiar tunes towards the end of the set, “Run For Your Life,” “Change Your Mind,” “17 Television,” and “Flowers Of Evil.”

We played some Foosball, chatted to a few Frauleins, and slept in the band flat which was walking distance from the club. In Europe, many of the clubs have an apartment just for touring bands to spend the night in. If only the US and UK could follow Europe’s example.   The crowd seemed to really love our show and we sold a bunch of records and shirts which always helps out on the road.

The DJs were fantastic and played mostly Canadian hits including The Modernettes, Teenage Head, The Tranzmitors, and the non-Canadian standout was the Village People’s punk tune “Food Fight.”

At the band flat, I slept on the top bunk and in the middle of the night couldn’t find the bathroom, it was pitch black.  I managed to find the room where Tanning Bats were sleeping and was having a true middle-of-the-night-midlife crisis.  With luck, I finally found the bathroom and the crisis was mostly averted.

Day 4 Brno, Czech Republic @ Kabinet Muz

Opakování matka moudrosti.
Repetition is the mother of wisdom.

– Czech Proverb



On a typical Suspect Parts morning, we hit a supermarket and/or a bakery to stock up Mobicool Maxi which is our cooler filled full of vegan and vegetarian supplies. Sulli and I opened up a kitchen in the back seat where we learned to excel in the art of sandwich making.

There was some serious traffic so we took a detour through magnificent Prague, one of Europe’s finest cities. Prague is located in what was formerly known as Bohemia, and the general feeling of the place is for lack of a better word… Bohemian.  They appreciate art, culture, music, fashion, and sex perhaps better than anyone else. The architecture is breathtaking, the women are beautiful, and the men sure know how to wear a scarf.   As Kafka said, “Prague never lets you go…this dear mother has claws.”


Storybook Prague

On the Czech highway we noticed that the billboards every few feet had nothing but Czech flags.  Later we found that the Czech government banned roadside advertising. The Czech mafia was upset about this and in retaliation, installed Czech flags to replace them, as it is illegal to take down any Czech symbols (no doubt a reaction to the heavy hand of Soviet rule).


Brno is the 2nd largest city in Czech after Prague, and we found our venue Kabinet Muz  to be a very civilized cafe/beer bar.  The local beer was creamy and delicious.  We sound-checked and checked out dinner backstage which was an interesting vegan goulash. It had something similar to falafel balls in it. Not bad at all.  The opening band was called Wasted Whatever, an early 80s style energetic punk band. They hung out in the dressing room smoking and drinking white wine out of plastic bottles with their friends. Nice kids.   Sulli and I shaved in the venue bathroom.  We have come up with a few pre-show routines to survive the grueling tour schedule.

Pre-Show Routine #1: “The Triangle”

The triangle consists of 3 things in this order:  food, coffee, alcohol.  To realize its full effect, the triangle must be completed in the correct order and ideally at least 2 hours before playing. If whiskey or cognac or schnapps is placed inside of coffee, this can reduce the triangle to 2 steps. Caffeine must be consumed at least 1 hour before playing, followed by beer or liquor. Beer will make you sleepy, so liquor is ideal.

Routine #2: “Triple S” (Shave, Shiesse, Schnapps)  Sulli and I found that to feel fully awake and look our best, we shave after eating as well as change our shirts and shoes.   This is followed by evacuating the bowels (which is harder than you might think in a crowded club that often has only 1 bathroom),  some vocal warm-ups, some stretching, some high kicks, and some schnapps.

back stretching

Pre-sound check back stretches

The men’s bathroom sink was right next to the urinals where folks kept coming in and it made it nearly impossible to shave, so Sulli and I shaved in the hallway next to the women’s bathroom which lead to some people laughing at us.  No big deal, our mission was accomplished and we successfully completed all of our pre-show rituals.

Martin the promoter filmed us through a triangle-shaped hole in the backstage curtain.

The Czech kids danced and only knocked over the microphones a couple of times. We drank some more delicious creamy beers at the club then went to the promoter Martin Slovak’s flat to sleep. I stayed up all night with Martin listening to 60s Czech ye ye which was fantastic, but not great when I discovered staying up til 8am made me nearly completely lose my voice.


Justin and Chris loading the van in Brno before discovering Andru’s cell phone was stolen from the front seat. Photo by Martin Slovak

The best part about staying up all night was listening to Marta Kubisova. She was a Czech singer who was perceived as being anti-authoritarian and anti-imperialist and is still an inspiration in the Czech Republic. Her music is absolutely beautiful. Her song “Prayer for Marta” became a symbol of national resistance against the occupation of Warsaw Pact troops in ’68. During the Prague Spring, she recorded over 200 SP records and one LP which was immediately banned from stores. In 1970, the government falsely accused her of making pornographic photographs leading to a ban from performing in the country until 1989. (Disclaimer: I plagiarized much of this from Wikipedia)

Martin told us a story about the first time he went into Germany with his parents in the 1990s. He said that the Germans had made signs along the way that said “Czechs, don’t steal,” and “Czechs don’t stop here to clean your teeth.”

In the morning, I started drinking immediately to help the hangover. Martin joined me. Unfortunately, Andru’s cell phone was stolen from the driver’s side door which was unlocked when we were loading our gear out from the venue. Ox-strong Andru took it in stride and didn’t have a phone on the rest of the tour.

justin martin

Justin and Martin, the morning after the night before. Brno, Czech Republic

Day 5 Vienna, Austria @ Rhiz

Vienna is a handsome, lively city, and pleases me exceedingly.

-Frederic Chopin


Austria was home to many famous folks including Sigmund Freud, Arnold Swartzenegger, Falco (“Rock Me Amadeus”) and some bad ones who we won’t mention.

Rhiz is a very civilized little cafe underneath a railroad bridge. Members of the opening band “Bad Weed,” were present and served us a civilized Viennese coffee before soundcheck.  When the train went by overhead, the sound in the club made this wacky little buzzing. The sound-man had worked there for 20 years or so, and wore one of the best sweaters I have ever seen. Wish I had a photo of the man and his sweater.

We were reminded of the derogatory term that the Germans call the Austrians, Schlucten Shiesse, which means “valley shitter.” Remember the Austrian Alps.

I have neglected to mention how cold Deutschland and Austria were. Being used to California weather, the central European October cold chilled me to my bones and made me feel like I had a constant cold or flu. Paired with the jet-lag and my new mandatory vegan diet, I felt like I was constantly being sat on by a large Germanic man.  Thankfully we had our pre-show routines to save us, as the show must go on.  In the bathrooms, a few African men were coming and going. They locked themselves into bathroom stalls presumably to organize some drugs that they were selling. I’m not trying to racially profile Austrian drug dealers, but this touring rock and roll musician knows a drug dealer when he sees one.

The shaving situation in the bathroom was again a tough one. A bespectacled middle-aged man in a brand new 500 Euro leather jacket commented, “Shaving, that isn’t very punkrock.”

On the contrary,  shaving in a cracked bathroom sink in the venue bathroom shortly before playing your set may in fact actually be “punk rock,” but that’s another argument for another time.

Arno, the drummer for opening band Bad Weed was formerly a promoter in a small town called Klagenfurt where Clorox Girls and The Feelers played in 2007. It was nice to see him again. Also bumped into Tom Jirsa and some other familiar faces.

Afterwards, there was a unmistakable tension in the club for the free DJ night when a few sketchy characters piled into the tiny smoke-filled bar. The tension was so intense it was almost physical, like you could reach out and touch it. It seemed like a fistfight was inevitable. A grade-school mating ritual unfolded where men wearing camouflage pants, hair gel, and cologne would dance uncomfortably close to a woman they were attracted to. If the woman danced with him, it was on, if she didn’t, most of the time the man didn’t seem to get the idea and kept coming back again and again to harass her. Most of the women seemed to go to the bar in groups, and so usually it was up to her female friends to shoo the humping greasy harasser away.

The other guys went to bed and I went to an 80s night with some folks and danced to songs like “Ghostbusters.” I danced with a school teacher who unironically had tickets to David Hasselhoff the following week.

At the 80s night I met some nice folks from Antwerp where we were soon headed to, and then stumbled through the freezing Alpine rain and finally jumped in a taxi when I couldn’t find our sleeping place.  Luckily, Andru woke up to the sound of the buzzer, and let me in at 4am as there wasn’t any wifi and I didn’t have any cell service. It would have been a bad night to sleep on the sidewalk in Vienna.

Day 6 Munich, Deutchland @ Kafe Kult

Of one thing there is no doubt: if Paris makes demands of the heart, then Munich makes demands of the stomach.

-Rachel Johnson

kafe kult

Our Euro record label Taken By Surprise Records is located in Munich. Our drummer Chris has his screen printing shop Flatland  in the same building as Black Wave Records which is located near the Augustiner Brau Haus. We picked up some merchandise from the record store and screen-printing shop and headed over to the venue Kafe Kult, which is an old WWII military hospital. The caretaker’s name is Herbie, and he is a wild-eyed hippie who fishes Nazi memorabilia out of the river. His collection is pretty insane, if you ever stop by Kafe Kult it is well-worth it to take a look.


The Kafe Kult backstage is full of black-markered penis drawings and band-tags, as many of our friends’ touring bands have played here in the past.  Suspect Parts played one of our first shows in 2008 here.


kafe kult backstage

Andru warming up on bass in the Kafe Kult band room

Dinner was a vegan “almost burrito,” which actually wasn’t too bad. Europe has improved on the availability of spicy food these days. A particular bottle of spicy sauce at Kafe Kult almost killed Andru and I.

Kafe Kult’s bathroom is nearly impossible to shave in. The mirrors are covered with band stickers. We used my cell phone as a mirror. I held it for Sulli as he shaved, he did the same for me. Yes, yet another low pressure cold water shave for the ‘Parts. The bathrooms also have a permanent shiesse smell which proves that the place reeks of authenticity.

The openers were a grunge band from Vienna called Baits.  They were extremely friendly folks. They had to drive the 3 hours back to Vienna after the show and then go straight to work the next morning. The drummer even had to get on a bus to Zagreb, Croatia afterwards to play another show. That is dedication.  Baits sound reminded me of growing up in the 90s in Seattle.

One of the bartenders was a foxy girl with bangs named Veronica who plays in a noise-art kinda band called Friends Of Gas. She hadn’t heard of the Archie comics, and I told her about them. (Maybe it has something to do with my days living in Portland.  I’m a sucker for a dark-haired girl with bangs.)

At the beginning of our set my guitar amp stopped working which led us to scramble around, find a backup, and hastily commence our set. Sulli and I had almost completely lost our voices and were really pushing it as the vocal monitors were barely audible. We tried our best to play well, and sold a bunch of merchandise but my band mates told me afterwards that we played the worst set of the tour so far. Our Euro label boss Michl Krenner seemed to like the show (or he was lying to make us feel better). I gave him a kiss.


Justin smooches Michl

parts kafe kult

Suspect Parts with Taken By Surprise label boss Michl Krenner at Kafe Kult in Munich

kult guestbook

Andru’s art in the Kafe Kult guestbook in Munich

My crush, the bewitching beauty Veronica, left without saying goodbye much to my chagrin and we slept in the band room which was dirty, dusty, dark, and cold.  With all of the lights turned out, Herbie the caretaker’s handmade creations seemed to creep up the walls. A trip to the bathroom was like a barefoot walk in some filthy post-apocalyptic construction site. Luckily there was a space heater and it finally started to work as we drifted off to sleep.

In the morning, I woke up at the crack of dawn and contemplated what was going wrong with my life. A few hours later, I accidentally took one of the Kafe Kult volunteer’s sleeping bags which wasn’t the one that Michl loaned me. It apparently was a 200 Euro thermal sleeping bag for Alpine camping. Whoops. Luckily Chris lives in Munich and was able to bring it back after the tour.  The shower was grubby, located in a storage room full of Herbie’s ongoing projects and various broken appliances. It was covered in black muck. Andru was brave enough to take a shower, but Sulli and I opted out. The friendly volunteer who slept in the band room with us made us breakfast which we ate in sub-zero temperatures and we packed up the van and headed out to pick up Chris and his wife Laura at their place.

Touring is hard on the body.

Day 7 Cologne, Deutschland @ Sonic Ballroom

In Köln, a town of monks and bones, And pavement fang’d with murderous stones, And rags and hags, and hideous wenches, I counted two-and-seventy stenches, All well defined, and several stinks! Ye nymphs that reign o’er sewers and sinks, The River Rhine, it is well known, Doth wash your city of Cologne; But tell me, nymphs! what power divine Shall henceforth wash the river Rhine?

– Samuel Taylor Coleridge



This was only the 4th date of tour and our 6th day in Europe but it felt like we had been on the road for ages.  Me and Sulli’s voices were nearly gone and I felt like I had a constant flu. This was the longest drive of tour – 6 hours (which is a relatively short distance compared to US Tours), and I took the opportunity to try and sleep in the back and get my voice back.  Our van kitchen was fully powered and Sulli had become a sandwich making gourmand. Our vegan spreads and veggies and cheeses were truly delectable.


At most Deutschland gas stations, they have paid bathrooms with attendants – which usually ensures that they are cleaned on a regular basis.  I was out of change and tried to sneak into a bathroom by ducking and rolling through the child-sized free entrance and was promptly caught by the bathroom attendant. She was not impressed.

The last time we were in Cologne, we filmed a short episode of our web-series “Guten Morgen Deutschland” at the Dome as we had filmmaker and Minister Of War Andrew Zappin in tow.

Sonic Ballroom is another classic Deutschland venue.  Small, great little bar, band flat upstairs and it has it’s own kitchen and bathroom. Roman has been the promoter there for many years and a strong supporter of ours since 2008. It was his birthday and so he was off somewhere enjoying it. Happy Belated Birthday, Roman!

best band names

Our favorite band names and DJ name from the tour: “Fuck It Head,” “DJ Tobias Sheisse,” and last but certainly not least, “Ape Shifter.”

Sonic Ballroom’s staff made us a nice vegan lasagna in the oven, soundcheck went smoothly, and we continued with our pre-show routines.  In Cologne the local beer is called Kolsch and this is ordered as opposed to Alt which is the rival beer from nearby rivals in Dusseldorf. Our kuhlshrank was filled with Kolsch.  The local cheap schnapps is called kettenfett which is like a black licorice shot. Not too bad. One of our biggest local supporters Frau Mony filmed a few of our songs.

Another local supporter, a 60 year old woman from Greece, knocked my microphone over a few times when she was dancing too hard. She apologized afterwards by kissing me on the neck and face. Suspect Parts’ German groupies are primarily women and men between the ages of 50 and 70.


Sonic Ballroom Cologne, photo by Frau Mony.

The audience under 60 didn’t dance much but seemed to enjoy our tunes. We had some more kettenfett and Kolsch and went to bed in the bunks upstairs. The promoter told us that our first single “Seventeen Television” was a local dance floor hit. The DJs that night had a set that went on until about 5am. Their set included The Shocks “More Kicks”and Red Dons “Auslander”

sonic ballroom

Sweaty Suspect Parts post-show at Sonic Ballroom in Cologne. Photo by Frau Mony.

Day 8 Antwerp, Belgium @ Venue 219

“It’s absurd to see an enchanted princess in every girl who walks by. What do you think you are, a troubadour?” 
― Roberto BolañoAntwerp

If you open the door of a bar in Brooklyn, you know exactly who is the mobster, who is the nice guy, who is the drunk, who’s the waitress, who’s the lonely heart. If you push open the door to a bar in Antwerp, people will talk five different languages. You don’t know who’s who. You don’t know if that guy is a banker or a mobster.”

– Thomas Bidegain


We pulled into Antwerp and it felt a bit like France with its narrow streets and cafes. Antwerp is in the Flemish part of Belgium which historically has a rivalry dated back to medieval times with the French part of Belgium.  Flemish is similar to Dutch but they also have a rivalry with the Dutch. You can drive across the entire country of Belgium in about 3 hours but its a complicated place with an intricate history.

As the venue was closed and locked, we stopped into an extremely civilized local bar and tried the local beer.


Sulli and Andru sample some Belgian beer. Justin’s personal favorite: De Koninck. Smooth and creamy with a consistency similar to Guinness.

The show was a Halloween party and most of the folks there seemed to be there for the dance party, not our band, which was fine. The local band were these kids who left their gear on stage for way too long and it annoyed all of us into playing a seriously blistering set.

The owner of the bar had a box full of Halloween supplies that he let us dip into. We did alright!


Suspect Parts’ makeshift Halloween costumes in Antwerp.

That night was another 80s music dance party. The place was packed. The guys went to bed at a reasonable hour and I foolishly stayed out and went to another after-hours party. I was playing roulette with the devil as far as my singing voice went.


Justin and Andru enjoy Halloween in Antwerp

Parking the van Halloween night in Antwerp proved to be extremely challenging and only Andru was up to the daunting task. We circled the city and finally found parking down by the river. Andru felt that the van might be at risk for a break-in so he slept in the van. It was freezing cold and only Ox-Strong Andru would take on this noble cause.


Ox-strong Andru Bourbon

The next morning we only had a 1 hour drive to Kortrijk, so we had one of our only touristic days to walk around the city and see the sights. Our hosts Joris and Ann made us a lovely home-made breakfast in their flat and gave us an absolutely enjoyable walking tour with their dog, Clipper. Antwerp is exquisite. Here’s some of the highlights of our tourist day in photos:

antwerp 8

L to Right Joris, Andru, Sulli, Ann and Clipper enjoy a civilized coffee at a cafe in Antwerp


Belgian fries with mayo of course!


Andru enjoys a Jupiter on the 2nd best day of his life.



Day 9 Kortrijk, Belgium @ The Pits

I’m half-Irish, half-Dutch, and I was born in Belgium. If I was a dog, I’d be in a hell of a mess!

– Audrey Hepburn

Chris and Andru finally trusted me enough to drive our rental Mercedes Sprinter Van and I successfully drove 1 hour through Belgium without incident. There was some backseat driving, but not too bad. The Pits is a legendary 20 year old garage punk venue that has hosted bands  like The Mummies, Supercharger, Dead Moon, The Spits, King Khan & BBQ, Black Lips, Alex White, Clorox Girls, Briefs, The Feelers, The Chemicals, and many more.

We were told that there was another show going on that night in Lille, France and that 11 of their regulars were headed to that show.  The Pit’s (sic) is tiny and can be filled to the absolute brim with about 40 people.  Tonight we had about 15 in the crowd so it was only about half-full. The staff was nice and dinner was tasty.  Again we had some issues with our pre-show shave as there was no bathroom mirror or even a sink to shave in.


The Pits urinals and toilet across from the merch table. Note: no sink or soap to wash hands with. Who needs soap to enjoy primitive beer-soaked garage punk?



The Pits DJ played some great stuff including The Kids from Antwerp.

The Pits staff told us that we could park the van overnight at the venue and then walk to the sleeping place. Our host was named Stoppe. He kinda looked like Andre The Giant. Stoppe was totally wasted and insisted that we drive to his flat. All of us had been drinking and since we were told that we could park at the venue, we all had enjoyed a few Belgian beers. As I was feeling sick, I didn’t really drink after the show and had been sober for a few hours.  I drove our van to Stoppe’s house and parallel parked half on the Belgian side walk.

Inside his flat, Stoppe had a fish and shrimp curry that he had made for a girlfriend of his.  I ate some despite Chris’ reasonable concern that I would get food poisoning from the shellfish that had been sitting out.  Stoppe’s friend had some home-grown weed and they brought out some fancy Belgian beer for us that was very tasty.  Stoppe put on a jazz record on 78 speed and proceeded to dance to it which brought most of us to tears laughing at his antics.  In between eating, drinking, and dancing, Stoppe cooked some samosas and brought out some more beer.


Justin and Stoppe

My favorite record that he played was this Belgian female singer from the 60s which I wish I could remember.  The record he put on 78 speed was Ottone Pesante.

My all-time favorite tune is Lio’s “Le Banana Split.” Despite Lio hailing from the French side of Belgium, everyone should know this tune.

Stoppe told us that Facebook had blocked him from using his name “Stop Stop Stop” and he was trying to resolve it as it was his only way of communicating with many of his friends. Good luck, Stoppe!



Our drawings for Stoppe’s guestbook

Day 10 Munster, Germany @ Gleis 22

In Germany, I’m a filmmaker. In the US, I’m a bum.”

– John Carpenter


Promoter Markus Schmauck has been booking concerts in Munster for nearly 20 years. The opening band was called Conta. It was their 4th show. Their pre-show schnapps was also Berliner Luft which caused us to immediately bond with them.


sulli schmauk

Sulli and Markus

There are also some scenes from our music video for “Run For Your Life” filmed at Gleis 22.

A local amp shop called Rare Guitars fixed my broken guitar amp which was fantastic. We had dinner, shiesse’d and schnapps’d and then had even more schnapps with Conta backstage.  It was their 4th show and they were real nervous.


Conta at Gleis 22, Munster. Photo courtesy of


Gleis 22 was pretty packed, Conta killed it and we killed it in turn.  We all went to a bar called Boheme something and enjoyed some kettenfett, jagermeister, and beers until they closed.  Markus is a local legend and for good reason. Munster should appreciate Markus bringing hundreds of touring bands to their student city over the years.


We stayed in this flat that some local hippies lived in. One of them introduced himself to us and said that he was a digital nomad. I guess that we are analog nomads.  The handle on the bathroom door kept falling off and the shower was dirty but the water was hot.  Hot and dirty.


Sulli at Gleis 22, Munster Photo courtesy of


Andru at Gleis 22, Munster Photo courtesy of


Sulli, Justin, and Chris at Gleis 22. Photo courtesy of

Day 11 Hamburg, Germany @ Molotow

You’re not getting any sleep tonight.

– Graffiti seen on the Reeperbahn, Hamburg


I’ve known local promoters Jens Keller and Michael for over 10 years. Their old promotion company Wildwax previously booked shows in the now defunct Beatclub. Jens and Michael in their younger years would take shots of hot candle wax and force the touring bands to do the same. Wildwax hosted loads of touring bands like The Spits, Black Lips, King Khan & BBQ, Jay Reatard, and more. The last couple of times I was in Hamburg I was sick and would sleep in Jens’ bunk bed (often he would not sleep). We may have shared the bed a few times. One particular night with Holy Ghost Revival, Jens convinced them to buy a pigeon to throw into my face while I was sleeping.   They bought the pigeon at the Fisherman’s Market at 7am or so, and John let the pigeon free. Jens was pissed off at John for years (and probably still is).  Another time Jens convinced me to try to give Colin from Clorox Girls a roman soldier, which is one of the worst things I have done to any band mate. Colin, I’m sorry.

In the morning in Munster I had some schinken (ham) with breakfast. I hadn’t eaten any meat on the whole tour as all of the venue-provided food was vegan and vegetarian.  The ham tasted very strong and didn’t agree with me at all.  My stomach was a wreck during the whole drive to Hamburg and I felt like I had food poisoning. If any of you have had food poisoning before, you know what it feels like – a flu with your head, body and stomach all in volcanic disorder.  Our van was subjected to a melee of bad smells coming out of my body during the drive to Hamburg.  I honestly didn’t know if I could play.  I slept in the back of the van with a scarf on and rode it out.

van death

Justin dying in the van

At Jens’ place in Hamburg we met his new son, Sixten. Jens made us a delicious chili. When serving a heaping serving of chili,  a plate suddenly shattered above his son’s head. Uncle Justin grabbed the baby and the rest of the ‘Parts cleaned up all of the spilled chili and broken plate.


Sulli and Sixten in Hamburg

After the near disaster, we enjoyed Jens’ chili paired with a glass of Schwabish red wine.  I was feeling a little bit better from my run-in with the schinken earlier but still pretty rough, sweaty and sore all over.  I took a shower and shaved then we headed out to soundcheck at Molotow. We were playing with 2 bands that night, 1 that sounded like The Strokes and another one that had crazy mohawks, bondage and whatnot. It was their last show, they streamed a backdrop banner across the rear of the stage, and sound-checked for a very long time.


39 Euro Sex on the Reeperbahn, Hamburg

The Molotow is a proper indie venue and has a downstairs, upstairs, and outside stages.  It’s located right on the Reeperbahn which is in the heart of Hamburg’s red-light district. If you haven’t been there it’s like Las Vegas but sleazier, shadier, with legal prostitution mixed with kebab shops, dance clubs, strip clubs, bars, restaurants, music venues, and some American chain restaurants like Burger King and Hooters.  The Beatles also kick-started their career here.  A description of the Beatles early days in Hamburg:

McCartney later said, “We lived backstage in the Bambi Kino, next to the toilets, and you could always smell them. The room had been an old storeroom, and there were just concrete walls and nothing else. No heat, no wallpaper, not a lick of paint; and two sets of bunk beds, with not very much covers—Union Jack flags—we were frozen.” Lennon remembered: “We were put in this pigsty. We were living in a toilet, like right next to the ladies’ toilet. We’d go to bed late and be woken up next day by the sound of the cinema show and old German fraus [women] pissing next door.” After having been awoken in this fashion, the group were then obliged to use cold water from the urinals for washing and shaving. They were paid £2.50 each a day, seven days a week, playing from 8:30-9:30, 10 until 11, 11:30-12:30, and finishing the evening playing from one until two o’clock in the morning. German customers found the group’s name comical, as “Beatles” sounded like “Peedles”, which meant a small boy’s penis. (From The Beatles in Hamburg )

Luckily Suspect Parts seemed to have it slightly better than the Beatles in their early days, and at Molotow, had our own private dressing room upstairs where we could sit quietly away from the cigarette smoke and eat some erdnuss flips (the best German snack).


We were at least 2 hours early for the show, so I had time to take a 30 minute power nap in the dressing room.  Sulli went to the train station to pick his wife Chris up. Here’s Chris modeling a Suspect Parts shirt.


The Strokes band sounded a lot like the Strokes. To paraphrase Pablo Picasso, “Bad art is imitation, great art is theft.”

The crazy mohawk band sounded better onstage than their soundcheck. I was really worried about my voice and my energy level but I managed to get up to “adult chimp strong.”  As I may have mentioned earlier, in the German language, the strongest animal is an ape. “Affenstark,” or “Ape-Strong” is the strongest that one can get in Germany as well as in Suspect Parts land.  On my worst times of day I was a newborn baby deer, one that could barely walk.  On the Munster to Hamburg drive I was a newborn salamander, a slimy creature that could be easily crushed.  Onstage in Hamburg, I made it to adult chimp strong, which is almost as strong as “Ape Strong” but not quite.  Andru Bourbon was steadily “Ox Strong” throughout the tour except one time when he apparently passed out behind our merch table.

merch death

At the end of our set in Hamburg I thought I would die, but ran to the merch table to sling some records, buttons, and shirts to folks.  We did pretty good.  Hamburg didn’t kill us. I had to go to bed early to attempt to get Ape Strong before our last show in Berlin, and we went back home where Jens’ wife Julika played us some of her favorite Plimsouls tunes.

Sulli’s wife Chris took this photo of us the next morning next to the river.


Suspect Parts in Hamburg. Photo by Chris Almeida.

Day 12 Berlin, Germany @ Kastaniankeller

I still keep a suitcase in Berlin.”

– Marlene Deitrich



Suspect Parts have played Berlin 6 or 7 times between 2008 and present, so it’s the closest we have to a hometown. We knew that we would have a lot of friends there but were literally gobsmacked by the amount of friends that came down to support us.


L to R Jakob, Daniel, Andru, and Smail. Kastaniankeller, Berlin

Slime The Boogie and Gang Zero opened up the show and were both fantastic. There were these hilarious bearded guys in Harley Davidson jackets who kept chest bumping each other and “moshing.”  They were half amusing, half annoying.  It was packed in the place and a Suspect Part couldn’t go 3 steps without bumping into someone who wanted to say hello or offer food, drink, or drugs, so we had a hard time getting Ape Strong for this one.  We had to give it our all though. The monitors onstage literally had static coming out of them, but we sang our hearts out and tried our best to kick some ass and take some names.  One of the big bearded fellows was grabbing at my leg and hugging me during our first few songs. The beards finally got bored and left, which was great because it opened up the front row for about 10 girls to dance.  Finally, dancing in Deutchland!   Success! We blasted through our set and closed out with Chris singing “Do It Clean” by Echo and the Bunnymen. We had some “Animal House” -reminiscent call and response and brought down the house.  Thank you Berlin, our last show was easily our best show, and couldn’t have gone down better. Ich leibe dich Berlin.

Stream or order Suspect Parts new self titled LP in North America here

Stream or order Suspect Parts new self-titled LP in Europe here


sulli shoes

Sulli retires his Chuck Taylor’s in Berlin

Post Script, German Vocabulary

I’ve been to Deutschland a few times and always try and pick up some new insults and vocabulary words. Here’s the list from this trip:

Schwips – buzzed, Ich Habe einen schwips or Ich bin beschwipst (“I am buzzed”)

Motorat – Motorcycle

Kinderwagen – stroller

Ampel – Traffic Light

Ampel menschen – traffic light men

Hamsterer – a hoarder

Rucksichtslos – regardless

Festgennomen – Arrested

Keks – Cookies

Dar ist ein hund in einer tasche – there is a dog in a bag

Schlucten Shiesse – Valley Shitter (what the Germans call the Austrians)

Spaten – Idiot  (literally means shovel, but if you call a person this it means idiot)

Laberbacke – someone who talks too much

Best quotes of this tour go to Andru Bourbon:

Chris: “You have to step into the modern world, Bourbon.”

Andru: “Sometimes I do.”

Chris: “She has the right to cut you off, she’s driving a Porsche.”

Andru: “Do I have the right to kill her?”

You can stream or order Suspect Parts new self titled LP in North America here

You can stream or order Suspect Parts new self-titled LP in Europe here

Suspect Parts on Facebook

Suspect Parts on Instagram: @SuspectParts


Suspect Parts in Antwerp


And some wonderful extras for those of you who stuck around this long:

























New Essay “White Light”

16 Dec

Hello All,

Just had a new essay, “White Light” published by Vol. 1 Brooklyn. Read on Vol. 1 Brooklyn site here


White Light

by Justin Maurer

White light, white light goin’ messin’ up my mind
White light, and don’t you know its gonna make me go blind
White heat, aww white heat it tickle me down to my toes
White light, ooo have mercy white light have it goodness knows
-Velvet Underground, “White Light/White Heat”

Most people like ghost stories, but I don’t. They scare me. I don’t like to think about ghosts or demons because I know they are real. Sometimes even watching a TV program about them, I think that I’d better stop watching because a portal to hell could open and the demons that plagued me in the past could come back and harass me. I have been unable to write this story for 15 years, but now I think I am strong enough to write this and strong enough to keep them at bay.

When I was 18 years old I played in a punk rock band. We did stupid things like getting drunk and getting naked. As a frequently wild and unbridled lead singer, onstage I was the most naked of all. After we graduated high school we pooled our money and bought a van. We split our podunk small town and hit the open road. We drank vodka out of the bottle, slept on top of our van, and shook scorpions out of our shoes. By the end of our U.S. tour we felt invincible, and our live set involved quite a bit of provocation, nudity, and screeching guitar feedback from our guitarist Devon’s off-brand pawn shop guitar (aka “Framus”).

The last date of our tour was an all ages venue on the wealthy and uptight Eastside of Seattle, near Microsoft headquarters. Our chaotic set didn’t go down well with the team of big-necked security guards. There were a few adult chaperones in the audience. One particularly uneasy mother of a 14-year-old concert attendee called the cops on us. The 14-year-old girl’s mom pressed charges (indecent exposure) and I was summoned to court for a felony charge.

I didn’t take the court summons seriously and helped my mom, a school teacher, move to New York City where she had received a small scholarship towards her Master’s degree. We drove across the country, and I loved it every time “Ramblin’ Man” by the Allman Brothers Band came on the radio–about 3 or 4 times a day. My brother and I drove the U-Haul and my mom and sister drove in my mom’s Jeep. The Jeep would often swerve violently as my mother and sister vehemently argued in sign language, hands off the wheel, and my sister would pull the car over, throw the door open and kick the dirt. My brother and I laughed and were glad we weren’t in the other car.

I was having a hard time landing a job in New York and was handing out resumes across the city. Some guy at the 121st Street and Broadway subway station told me not to take the train downtown. He told me to go home and turn on the TV. The burning buildings were on every channel. The whole world was changing.

New York became a dead city. Everything stopped, including the U.S. Mail. One month later I received a warrant for my arrest that was forwarded from our address in Washington State. I had missed my court date for the naked thing. I got a job waiting tables at a restaurant on 110th Street and Broadway and the owners ripped me off. They paid me $80 cash for working full time for a week. They kept my tips and didn’t call me in for any other shifts.

I decided to head back to Seattle to face up to the felony charge. I went back to Bainbridge Island where I had gone to high school. All of my friends had gone to college or moved away. There were a few younger kids I was friends with including two twin sisters named Cora and Penny. I had dated Cora briefly in high school. Something clicked and I started dating Penny. She had wild hair, wild eyes and a wonderful laugh, the kind where she would throw back her head and roar. I found Penny to be quite a rambunctious creature and I liked her very much.

One day my friend Devon and I stopped by their house. They lived with their single mom who was an interior designer and always let us eat their food and hang out and play guitars. The twins would often choreograph dance moves to “Crimson and Clover.”

We knocked on the door, and Penny answered looking very surprised. She held her finger to her lips and beckoned for us to follow her inside. In their living room a man lay reclined on a couch. A woman sat above him. He spoke in voices. The voices coming out of his mouth were not his own. A gaggle of new age ladies with crystal necklaces and hippie dresses sat cross legged on the floor and hung onto every word. When Devon and I came into the room a strange voice spoke through his mouth.

“Do you have any questions for us?”

The new age women smiled and encouraged me to ask some questions. The voices went through every detail of my life. They described my personality, my trials, and my tribulations in disconcerting detail. Their answers to my questions were spot on, as if these spirits knew who I was and as if they knew the internal turmoil that I was going through.

After my questions, the woman counted back from 10 and with every number the man convulsed as if spirits were leaving his body. After the number 1, the man sat up and rubbed his eyes, speaking in his own voice.

“Ah, some newcomers! How y’all doin?”

He spoke simply like a man born in the country. He sounded nothing like the spirits that were using his body to channel their energy and spoke in stilted yet articulate voices.

After I came home from my experience with the channel, I started seeing apparitions. The black beasts swam above me like underwater sea creatures. These sinister eels writhed through midair with their tails. They had no faces. They would fly by my car, my bed, they would stop and stare directly into my soul, chilling me to my bones.

One day Penny and I were driving my red 1982 Chevy on a dark winter night. One of these demonic salamanders floated in front of my windshield and stared at us menacingly before continuing along its way.

“Did you see that,” I asked Penny.

“Oh yeah, we see them all the time.”

Living in the house where a new age cult was paying this man to channel these demons posing as angels, Penny and her sister Cora lived with these apparitions. To them, it was normal.

Soon they were everywhere. They scurried on the floor, they watched me as I showered, they hovered over my bed and I couldn’t sleep. I contemplated suicide to get away from them.

To keep them at bay I would sing and play Muddy Waters and Lightnin’ Hopkins songs.


I would scream these songs and they wouldn’t bother me as I sang them. Otherwise, they were always there watching me, following me, torturing me.

I found out that the man posing as a channel for these demonic spirits had left town. It made me feel a little better.I stopped by the twins’ house to play some guitar and goof around. I sat on their couch playing their acoustic guitar and one of them said,

“Oh my God! Mom! Come here… Mom!”

Their mother came in the room and said, “Oh my God. Justin, sit up for a second.”

I stood up and one of the twins reached underneath the couch cushion where I was sitting. She handed me a folded up piece of notebook paper and asked me to read it.

“Request a date of your new channel: October 13th.

Request a time your new channel will appear: 2:30pm.

On this date and time your new channel will sit here. May white light be with you.”

It was discussed that I should travel to Ashland, Oregon where their old channel was living in a hotel room. They told me that if I was the new channel I could earn lots of money as there were plenty of people who wanted to ask these spirits questions. They told me that their mom had a religious group called White Light and they were working on a book that would lead the people of the world to a new truth and a lasting peace. Their old channel had left town and the book wasn’t finished and they needed me to learn how to channel the spirits so that they could finish their book.

This was a lot for me to hear. Around this time, the haunting from the apparitions rose to manic proportions. The little demon creatures would crawl all over me and I was being suffocated by them. One night I heard a boom like a thunder clap. I sat up in my bed and there was a blinding light coming from the bedroom door, it looked like a portal to heaven.

A deep commanding voice spoke, like the voice of God and he said, “Choose a door!”

To the left was a simple wooden door, the kind you would find on a log cabin in the forest. To the right was a bright sparkly door like one you would see on a game show.

“The door on the right is if you become a channel. The door on the left is if you decide not to. Choose wisely”

The bright lights left the room. I thought about Indiana Jones and The Last Crusade and remembered that the right choice was the simple wooden cup. The other choice meant instant painful death.

I drove to Ashland, Oregon with the twin sisters and their mom. We went up a flight of stairs and met the channel and his wife in their motel room. He told us that on the morning of 9/11 the spirits woke him up and told him that this country’s false economy would fall.

He went into his trance led by his wife who counted down from 10. When she got to 1, the stilted yet articulate voices of the demon spirits spoke through the man.

“Do you have any questions for us,” they said.

“Should I become the new channel,” I said.

“If you open that door, it shall never be closed again,” they said.

At that point I knew I didn’t want to be the channel.

We drove from Ashland, Oregon back up to Bainbridge Island, Washington. I told the twins and their mother that I wasn’t going to be the channel. I got a letter in the mail that asked if I wanted to move to San Francisco to play in a punk rock band. I wrote back yes.

My nudity trial took some strange turns, my pregnant public defender didn’t show up most of the time, and so the case was often delayed and extended. Then it was finally over. I was guilty of disorderly conduct, a misdemeanor charge. After community service hours were served and a fine paid, I moved from town to town: Oakland, Portland, Madrid, London, L.A. Every once in a while I wake from sleep and find myself staring into the shadows of my bedroom and I start to see a slithery creature writhing across the floor. So I look away.

IT’S A LONG WAY TO THE TOP…2 underdog rock n roll bands attempt to conquer Europe in 30 days

6 Oct
Freehand sketch by Sandra Vérine drawing LIVE at Montpellier Subsonic music festival, Montpellier, France

Freehand sketch by Sandra Vérine drawing LIVE at Montpellier Subsonic music festival, Montpellier, France

Hello Friends,

Two of my musical groups Suspect Parts and Maniac just careened across continental Europe for a month, playing about 30 shows in Germany, Switzerland, France and Spain. I did double duty and played 2 sets a night. Exhaustion and sensory overload only scratch the surface of how I’m feeling, but I’d like to share some memories before they fade away.

Photo by Chris Almeida, Suspect Parts live at Cassiopea, Berlin. L to R, Andru Burbonski, Chris Bell, Justin Maurer, James

Suspect Parts live at Cassiopea, Berlin. Photo by Chris Almeida

Being back in the US is a trip. After coming off tour, you feel a little bit of PTSD. You get used to living like a dog, sleeping on the floor, eating and drinking and pissing and shitting whenever and wherever you can.  You’re existing in a state of perpetual motion, your only goal to get to the next town and play a 45 minute set.  It involves driving, waiting around, carrying amps and drums and soundchecks and vegetarian dinners and drinking out of boredom and out of trying to get in balance with a steady stream of caffeine and booze because you know you won’t get any sleep.  And maybe you’ll sleep on a filthy cot or on a bare mattress in a mold filled punk squat filled with graffiti and sharpie’d penises crudely drawn by other drunk punk bands who stayed there before you.  You’re horny but you don’t jerk off in the shower out of respect for your band mate who is showering after you.  You don’t have a towel so you use a dirty t-shirt instead.  You sweat so much that your face begins to itch and your eyelids feel like scales on a reptile.  But for some reason it’s an addiction and when you’re not doing it your skin crawls and you feel restless and you begin to plan the next tour. You’ll probably lose money but it doesn’t matter because when you’re up there playing that 45 minute set and it really works and you’re playing together like a well oiled machine, everything is out the window because what you’re doing is pure bliss. And the people you meet will be your friends for life. And the places you visit will continue to rub off on you and you will become a different person and you forget what you are doing and then it is over.

So here I am, in godforsaken Los Angeles, two days back at work, skin beginning to crawl, ready to do it all over again.

Justin Maurer, Little Armenia, Los Angeles 09/29/15

Before tour MANIAC shot this promo vid in the Los Angeles River where many a chase scene was filmed, from Repo Man to Grease to Terminator.  The vid was shot by Ardavon Fatehi and edited by Andrew Zappin. It co-stars Lord Cezar Mora as the thief.

Revisiting our multimedia tour journal we had a lot of time sitting around, either in a van or in a pitch black dank German venue. We launched a friendly rivalry with our old friends Red Dons who were also on a European tour.  We dubbed it “The Down With Dons Movement.”


Our lead guitarist in Maniac Andrew Zappin is a skilled filmmaker and photographer. “Captain” Zappin utilized the basic iMovie app on his iPhone to create a series of #downwithdons communiques as well as a travel webseries dubbed “Guten Morgen Deutschland” starring James “Sulli” Sullivan and yours truly.  Captain Zappin transformed into our “Minister of War” and began our series of attaques on The Dons.


Pre-Tour Journal:

Justin: We got in a few days early to rehearse. We practiced on a street called Pfarstrasse and it was, well, a little Pfar from where we were staying. My first couple of meals were so flavorful, I mean I could TASTE the butter, eggs, cheese, bread, falafel, tomatoes, etc.  Coming from the land of Monsanto and excessive preservatives, whenever I go to Europe I immediately notice the food is more healthy with less chemicals. Berlin is great. Graffiti art everywhere, people riding their bikes, excellent falafel, young people walking around. The street vagabond dudes all wear camouflage pants, some of them shirtless, always drinking Sternberg beer.  Suspect Parts did a photo shoot with Christina, Sulli’s wife.

Suspect Parts in Berlin. (Photo by Chris Almeida)

Suspect Parts in Berlin.
(Photo by Chris Almeida)

We drank some Mexicaners at The Franken in Kreuzberg.  Classic stuff.   Suspects were staying at Mutti’s (Mother’s) band flat.  I don’t think there is an equivalent in the US.  You have a booker who books shows, has an apartment for touring bands to stay in, has a warehouse full of gear to rent bands, and just a well-organized, well thought out setup.  Unfortunately  someone from MANIAC hired another booking agent to do our tour but that’s another story!

28.08.15 GER-Berlin, Cassiopeia

Justin: The venue was next to this skate park and climbing wall.  Ice Cube was at the skate park in the back a few days beforehand for the NWA “Straight Outta Compton” movie.  It was very civilized behind the venue with a series of coffee shops and bars and people leisurely enjoying coffee and beer in the sunshine. The show went well, kicked em in the head.

Maniac in Berlin (Photo by Chris Almeida)

Maniac in Berlin
(Photo by Chris Almeida)

29.08.15 GER-Hamburg, Get Lost Festival (Suspect Parts during the day // Maniac at night)

Hamburg is a port town full of surly old fishermen types and well, the world-famous red light district, the Reeperbahn.  It’s in the district of St. Pauli who is the unofficial patron saint of Hamburg. The urban legend goes that Saint Pauli was a pirate who was captured by authorities.  He was to be beheaded. He made a deal with them saying if once his head was cut off he was able to run across a line, his men were to be freed. The legend goes that the headless man made it across the line and his pirates were set free.  He is the official mascot for the St. Pauli football team.

Some members of MANIAC were very excited to be near the red light district and began regaling other members in the van on past visits to the Reeperbahn. As members of MANIAC had heard these stories many times, they were mostly met with rolling of the eyes. When we rolled into town we saw our compatriots in RED DONS and we hugged and kissed them (and began to plant the seeds of the Down With Dons movement that would later prosper and flourish)

In Hamburg, the scene bosses are mostly Schwabish (that being, coming from the South Western part of Germany near Stuttgart). They are some of my favorite people in the world. They love good music, don’t give a fuck about anything and are real sweethearts.  It was good to see these people again.  Suspects played a day show in the back patio of this bar and there were people from around the world there.

The night-time show was nutso, in this two floor bar, jam packed full of people.  MANIAC played upstairs and downstairs was the mighty DEAN DIRG, German garage punk superstars.

They were fantastic, people stage diving, cigarette smoke everywhere, people doing speed in the dressing room while drinking out of a giant bottle of Jagermeister.  Real fun that was had by all. Apparently, whoever was running the MANIAC merch booth was asking every single person who came up to the merch table for drugs. Real Classy.

30.08.15 TBA

31.08.15 TBA

Because of our fantastic booking agent, we had 2 days off after Hamburg.  We decided to go back to Berlin and try and record a split 7″ at our friends’ studio on the outskirts of Berlin.  The recording was mostly a wash but we did get to go swimming in a lake that was an East German vacation hotspot.  There were naked old men, naked women, geese, children and more. Suspect Parts German bassist Andru told us about Freikörperkultur or FKK, the “Free Body Culture” movement which was the world’s first nudist movement which began in Germany in the late 1800s.Andru also taught us the word for Fat German, “Dicker Deutscher.”

Our East Berlin Lake Photo by Andrew Zappin

Our East Berlin Lake
Photo by Andrew Zappin

01.09.15 GER-Dresden, Chemiefabrik

It was raining in Dresden so we didn’t get a chance to see the beautiful historic part that they rebuilt after the bombing. We did get a chance however, to roam around Berlin in the morning, see loads of historic sites, the Spree River, bullet holes in the walls where there were serious gunfights during the war, Hitler’s bunker which has been turned into a Jewish Cultural Center, Brandenburg Gate, Soviet monuments and many more. We had a great tour given by Andru and Chris which concluded with a stop at the Ramones Museum.  The Ramones museum is fantastic and well worth a visit. As far as the Dresden show goes, not much to report.  We made the first “DOWN WITH DONS” video, that was fun.

Justin and Chris signing the wall at the Ramones Museum in Berlin

Justin and Chris signing the wall at the Ramones Museum in Berlin02.09.15

GER-Münster, Gleis 22


Munster is a great college town near the Dutch border in Northwestern Germany. It was a long drive from Dresden to Munster, we had to cross pretty much all of Germany. Gleis 22 is a great venue, I have some fond memories from when Clorox Girls opened for Jay Reatard here in 2007.  The booker Markus has been promoting concerts in Munster for about 20 years. He’s one of the nicest most knowledgeable German independent promoters out there. The morning after the show he took us around and showed us the Dome (the local cathedral) above the Dome is a steel cage. There was an uprising against the local Bishop about 500 years ago. The Bishop ordered the men in charge of the uprising killed. Their prostrate bodies were placed in this cage hung high above the cathedral to dissuade any future rebellion. The cage trick worked.  We had a nice stroll in Munster, a great cup of coffee and a visit to Green Hell the local punk record store.

We also made the 2nd “Down WIth Dons” video, as always, directed by Minister of War Andrew Zappin.

Posse in front of Gleis 22, Munster, Germany (Photo by Justin Maurer)

Posse in front of Gleis 22, Munster, Germany
(Photo by Justin Maurer)

03.09.15 GER-Kassel, Goldgrube

This perhaps was the most interesting night yet.  The show was on a Thursday night but felt like a Monday night. Pretty uneventful. However we made not 1 but 3 Down With Dons videos after they took us to the “Best Bar in Kassel if not all of Germany.”  At the bar we were given an open bar tab.  After the first round of Mexicaners was poured, a local fell off of a barstool and shit himself.  Captain Zappin helped the man up and this man’s excrement got onto Zappin’s shoe.  The smell was so overwhelming that we couldn’t drink our drinks and had to leave to get some fresh air. We tried to get the bar staff to call the man an ambulance but they instead were arguing with us about us staying and not leaving.  We told them we’d like to go to our sleeping spot, but they wouldn’t give us the address.  They instead continued to argue with us about not leaving.  Finally we convinced one of them to come with us and show us the way to the place where we were staying. I observed, “If that was the best bar in Kassel, imagine the worst bar in Kassel!”

The sleeping place seemed like it was an art student’s apartment and had themed rooms.  James, Sulli and I were in the Jesus themed room. There was a crucifix across the ceiling.  Elmo or another Muppet character was crucified to another cross in the corner of the room. Creepy turn of the century German portraits of Christ were across the room.  An organ was in another corner and I composed the “Down With Dons” theme song.

There was also a hunting themed room where our Minister Of War Andrew Zappin starred in his first appearance in the Down WIth Dons Multimedia campaign:

04.09.15 GER-Düsseldorf, Tube

Well, in Cologne they drink Kolsch, in Dusseldorf they drink Alt. It’s a battle that has existed for centuries.  Not caring for this battle, the meat eaters among us ate some meat food instead.

Tale of two schnitzels. One is Weiner Art and one is Jager art. A Dusseldorf Alt stands proudly in its glass.

Tale of two schnitzels. One is Weiner Art and one is Jager art. A Dusseldorf Alt stands proudly in its glass.

In Dusseldorf we met Vom, drummer in Die Toten Hosen and The Boys.

Dance party at Vom's! (Photo by CB Mangler)

Dance party at Vom’s!
(Photo by CB Mangler)

A super nice guy, he invited a bunch of us back to his house.  Here’s a portrait of the man by Andrew Zappin.

Vom Ritchie of Die Toten Hosen and The Boys in his place with his moose

Vom Ritchie of Die Toten Hosen and The Boys in his place with his moose “Frank.” (Photo by Andrew Zappin)

Red Dons were in Finland and paid us these two tributes including this bizarre visit with Santa Claus

In Dusseldorf, our booking agent truly showed his prowess when in his hometown he could not convince the bar owner to pay up the previously agreed upon guarantee on paper. Luckily, we were headed to France and Spain which are out of the jurisdiction of he who will not be named’s territory. But first, 6 more German dates!

05.09.15 GER-Trier, Lucky’s Luke


Trier is next to a river and in the middle of wine country. At the show there were people but none of them knew who we are. Suspect Parts sung “Kumbayah” as the closer.

Zache from Maniac went to a “jack shack” where he purchased a thong earlier in the day and wore this thong as the closer for Maniac.

The bar stayed open until at least 7 in the morning and gave us free drinks all night. It was a pretty packed dance party. They played real god awful music and so most of us left to go to bed upstairs in the band flat. Someone brought a psycho girl upstairs who called herself “Nadine The Unbreakable.” She said she was an anarchist and was trying to beat everyone up. She actually punched me in the face at least twice. Some others got it even worse.

06.09.15 – Day off

Our skilled booking agent again failed to fill a day for us, so luckily we were able to stay in Trier in the same band flat. The place was pretty disgusting but it was free and it made a perfect setting for our Magnum Opus of all Down With Dons Videos. This was Director Andrew Zappin’s Citizen Kane.

Also around this time some Down With Dons copycat videos started making their way around the globe, like this one, starring Kenton McDonald in Portland, Oregon

We also had a nice time strolling around the old part of Trier, really gorgeous architecture, a cathedral, Roman walls, ruins of bath houses and more. We began our travel show “Guten Morgen Deutschland” here in Trier, sponsored by Lowenbrau, “Das Bier Fur Trier!”

On the way out of Trier, we drove through the tiny country of Luxembourg, where we shot another episode of “Guten Morgen Deutschland”

07.09.15 GER-Aachen, AZ @ Some Irish Pub

Ooh, this was a brutal one.  Maybe the only good part was staying with our friend from the Komplications. He had Nazi knives and cool stuff at his place (Disclaimer, none of us are Nazis obviously). He let us raid his warehouse thrift shop in the morning. Super super super nice dude.

Here he is, singing in the Komplications. If you like The Screamers, you will dig Komplications. Keys, drums, vocals.

Also, we found a Red Dons fan outside the Irish Pub and shot the first “Up With Dons” video:

08.09.15 GER-Köln, Sonic Ballroom

Our old friend Roman is the booker at Sonic Ballroom.  Played here many times, a classic Deutsche venue.

We shot another episode of our travel show “Guten Morgen Deutschland” here at the world famous Dome in Cologne:

Thanks to Frau Mony for shooting these vids:

09.09.15 GER-Karlsruhe, Alte Hackerei

On our way to Karlsruhe we shot this episode of “Guten Morgen Deutschland”

Karlsruhe is Badish which is right next to Schwabisch turf in SouthWestern Deutschland.  One of the local specialties is spaetzle.  My Schwabisch friends who now reside in Hamburg are always arguing about who cooks the best spaetzle among them.  It’s good stuff.  The one we had was near the small red light district of Karlsruhe and was sorta like a glorified mac and cheese, not the deliciousness I remembered.  Anyhoo, when in Badish or Scwabisch turf, be sure to try the spaetzle. We got kinda unlucky in our spot.  The beer was good though.   

Alte Hackerei literally means “old hackery,” it used to be a slaughterhouse and now is a venue for punk and alternative music.  The bar and back area were very nice and the fooseball table quite good.  We played with Party Force from Oakland, California who were friendly fellas and we sampled the local schnapps at the bar.  Not a bad time in Badish Deutschland.

10.09.15 GER-Tübingen, Hegelstraße 7

Ah Tubingen, an interesting night.  We made friends with some Calgarians called Teledrome who were also playing.

They were an electro pop new wave kinda band which was really refreshing in the land of bad 90s punk.  We danced pretty hard for them and they in turn danced pretty hard for us.

It was Chris’ friend Brandon Madrid’s birthday and we dedicated our wild breakdown to him:

Afterwards there was a baby crawling on the floor of a punk squat, some bad pink speed going around, drummer of Teledrome talking like Jeff Spicolli and more

11.09.15 SUI-Luzern, Sedel

It was a beautiful drive to Luzern, Switzerland even though Andru Bourbon called it “Country Of Freaks” and “City of Freaks.”  Our other Andrew, Captain Zappin, Minister of War, had to piss pretty bad as we were stuck in traffic in the middle of Zurich City Center.  He finally pissed in a bottle. The first bottle piss of tour.

We were playing this venue next to these cow pastures, right on the foot of the Alps.  You could hear the cow bells jangling around the cows’ necks as we loaded in.  The backstage spread was excellent, unparalleled. Literally the best tasting cheese you could imagine.  The beer was great too. Beer made with glacial water from the Alps?  Fantastic. They had 3 cooks backstage cooking us a beautiful homecooked meal. The Swiss treated us pretty well and it won’t be forgotten.

12.09.15 FRA-Montpellier, Subsonic Open Air

Again some genius booking on our agent’s part, we had to wake up at 5am to make it to 5pm loadin in Montpellier. We hauled ass with Chris behind the wheel and he didn’t accept my offer of Swiss Cheese.  See him star in an Andrew Zappin film here (Music by La Femme)

After paying hundreds of Euros in tolls to the French, we made it to Montpellier. It was raining so they moved the Open Air Festival indoors.

We met the guys from Le Grys Grys and their girlfriends, all nice people

Some of our friends from Valencia were there and reminded us of Paella and Wau Y Los Arrghs!

Sylvie and her husband have been doing Subsonic for many years now.  They put together a great little shindig and everybody had a great time.  It was raining but Sulli, Bourbon and I along with the Valencians got an espresso and a pastis before playing.  Perfect.  That is some wake up juice.  It was Sulli’s birthday at midnight and folks sang “Happy Birthday” in English, French and Spanish. Good stuff. We stayed up very late with Isidro from Valencia and the Grys Grys guys. It was fun. Ardy our roadie, photographer, raconteur, international man of mystery, got into town and showed up at 6:30am. The sleeping place was closed and he slept on the sidewalk. Welcome to tour Ardy. Next stop, carajillo country.

Maniac in Montpellier @ Subsonic Festival. Photo by Sue Rynski

Maniac in Montpellier @ Subsonic Festival.
Photo by Sue Rynski

13.09.15 ESP-Barcelona, Freedonia

Crossing the border into Spain is a beautiful thing.  CATALUNYA rather. The beer is colder, the food tastes better, the people friendlier, the sun sunnier.  God damn we started having fun.  Barcelona was a small little venue with a cocktail bar in the front.  It was in Raval which is an immigrant neighborhood and can be one of the seediest ‘hoods in Barcelona, especially on weekend nights.  We were there on a weekday and it was relatively peaceful excepting someone trying to steal a diner’s jacket while eating in broad daylight on the terrace of an Indian restaurant.  After the show we went to a gay bar and had a fantastic time.  The Gin and Tonics were huge, cold, cheap and delicious.  Some of our party disappeared to do speed until 9 in the morning. The rest of our party slept.

14.09.15 ESP-Terrassa, Skorpions Bar

Speed takes its toll

Photo by Ardavon Fatehi

Had a nice walkabout all around Barcelona in the daytime, mostly the tourist stuff but it was a beautiful day.  This gent played some accordion for us.

Photo by Ardavon Fatehi

Photo by Ardavon Fatehi

The markets had some of the finest jamon as sampled by Captain Zappin and yours truly. Ardy found this great graffiti in Terassa

La Policia Esnifa Cocaina. Our very own man about town Ardavon Fatehi. Photo by Andrew Zappin

La Policia Esnifa Cocaina. Our very own man about town Ardavon Fatehi.
Photo by Andrew Zappin

Terassa is on the outskirts of Barcelona and this beautiful man put on our show.  For a Monday night it was a fantastic turnout. It seemed like the whole village showed up.  On the way back to Ori’s apartment he kept telling us he had this huge pitbull and that we had to be careful. He actually had some of us spooked.  When we got to his house we met the “pitbull” this shy little guy:


15.09.15 ESP-Bilbao, Satélite T

Next stop was the Basque Country.  Bilbao, home of Eskorbuto.

Unfortunately we weren’t playing in Donosti/San Sebastian, home of fine fine pintxos and a beautiful beach, but a beautiful time was had in Bilbao. They made us a fine dinner with wine.

Basque hospitality in Bilbao

Basque hospitality in Bilbao

Justin and Sulli cleaning up in Bilbao. Ardy in background wearing a sweet beret

Justin and Sulli cleaning up in Bilbao. Ardy in background wearing a sweet beret

16.09.15 ESP-Oviedo, Lata de Zinc

Next we were off to Asturias, home of Asturian leche and cidra.

Red Dons struck back by burning a fabricated Suspect Parts Setlist:

We stopped at the beach on the way where this epic Down With Dons video was shot

There was an insane staircase to load all of the gear into the basement where the stage was. They cooked us very good vegetarian food at the venue. Afterwards was a nutso local Catholic festival which in Spain means a lot of drinking and bars staying open as late as possible, some in this case 4am or 6am.  We drank some local cider and went to a lot of bars. Cobblestone streets, people wandering around.  A very social occasion, the festival of San Mateo. La Resaca was muy fuerte.

17.09.15 ESP-Alcala de Henares, Ego Live

Alcala de Henares is on the outskirts of Madrid. It is known as the birthplace of Cervantes, author of Don Quixote. It was a quiet night but Spain beat France in the Euro basketball championships so people were happy. Sulli and I had an excellent carajillo next door.  The promoter was a gentleman who paid us our guarantee even though he lost money on the show. Hotel was across the street and very comfortable.

18.09.15 ESP-Sevilla, Sala X

sala x

Sevilla was an amazing city, way down in Andalucía. It was impossible to park the van anywhere because the parking garages wouldn’t fit our German van. Narrow cobblestone streets, old people and children in public squares, bars and cafes everywhere. Beautiful city. No one at the show but we got our crazy guarantee of 500 Euros. The promoters of our show actually lived in Grenada but did no promotion in Sevilla.  Very strange scenario. But our friends at Holy Cuervo in Madrid were taking care of everything so we got a hotel and the guarantee.  Worth the trip to Sevilla just for the food and the sights and the smells. Wonderful to be in Andalucía.

Roadside bar in rural Spain (photo by Andrew Zappin)

Roadside bar in rural Spain (photo by Andrew Zappin)

19.09.15 ESP-Madrid, Wurlitzer Ballroom

Madrid, mi ciudad natal. Wonderful to see Gran Via again. Malasana. El Wurley. El Omni bar. Nacho took good care of us but again a parking nightmare. Chris had to head back to our hotel and put a chair in the road to save a parking space for our van. He sat in the chair and drank a bottle of wine and waited for the van and gear to return. Sulli , Chris and I were booked to do a DJ set at Weirdo Bar but Chris wasn’t able to make it . Andru had to drive the van so he couldn’t make it either. Ardy AKA DJ Madrid filled in as DJ while I loaded the gear in the van. DJ James Carman also jammed some hits. Captain Zappin and I stayed behind because he had to film a very special message for Red Dons. The Captain finally declared a temporary armistice. Peace between Suspects Maniac and Red Dons had finally been declared.


MANIAC went back to Los Angeles from Madrid and Suspect Parts continued the righteous quest back to Berlin. I will keep these last few brief.

20.09.15 ESP- Valencia, Magazine Club

One word. Paella. They made us one. With conejo and costillas. Chris and Sulli are vegetarian but they pushed the meat aside to eat the rice. That should tell you how good it was.

21.09.15 ESP- Sant Feliu, Atzavara Club

Back up to Catalunya it was a beautiful drive along the Mediterranean coast. We went to the beach twice.

First on our own

Suspects on the beach. Costa Brava, Catalunya

Suspects on the beach. Costa Brava, Catalunya

Then since an armistice was officially declared we met up with Red Dons on the beach in neutral turf, Catalunya.

Suspects and Red Dons meet on the beach in Catalunya. Peace is declared!

Suspects and Red Dons meet on the beach in Catalunya. Peace is declared!

They treated us very well at Atzavara Club. Red wine, bbq and a great community organized volunteer-run club. It was Chris’ birthday and everyone sang him happy birthday in Catalan. Good stuff!  He drank red wine and was a happy boy.

23.09.15 GER- Munich, Kiste

A long drive to Munich from Catalunya. We crossed France, Switzerland and Bavaria and finally made it to Munich at about 7am. We stayed with Chris and his wife Laura. Great bakeries in Munich. We visited Michl Krenner’s new record shop, Black Wave Records and made the necessary trip to the Augustiner Brauhaus. The show was in this weird techno bar, but went well and had a great time DJing with Michl afterwards. Viva Bayern!

Sophia, Michl, Herbie, Sulli, Justin in Munich

Sophia, Michl, Herbie, Sulli, Justin in Munich

24.09.15 GER- Berlin, Cortina Bob

Last Falafel, last Pfeffi, Last Jager, Last Espresso Machiatto, last Mexicaner. Thank you to our family in Berlin. You made it feel like home. Hell, it is home! We love you, XO Suspect Parts

Chris, drummer of Suspect Parts, kept a pretty detailed record of the most hilarious quotes on tour said in the van or out of the van.  When he was driving, I kept track.

Sulli's van rendition of Suspect/Maniac members (James Sullivan)

Sulli’s van rendition of Suspect/Maniac members (James Sullivan) L to R – Chris, Zappin, Justin, Andru, James, Zache, Sulli

The personality of the person saying the quote is key, I will introduce them with hometown and instrument:


Justin Maurer (vocals, guitar, current city: Los Angeles)

James “Sulli” Sullivan (vocals, guitar current city: Manchester, UK)

Chris Bell Brief (vocals, drums current city, Munich, Germany)

Andru Bourbon (Bass, current city, Berlin, Germany)


Zache Davis (vocals, bass, current city: Los Angeles)

Andrew Zappin (lead guitar, current city: Los Angeles)

James Carman (drums, vocals, hometown: Carson, California)

Justin Maurer (guitar, vocals, current city: LA)

Van Life L to R Ardy, Zappin, Justin

Van Life
L to R Ardy, Zappin, Justin

Here are some of my favorites:

“You are really obsessed with your underwear” (Andru Bourbon to Chris Brief on his underwear air drying in the van after being hand washed)

“Give me a little bite of your sausage, James” (Justin to James on sharing his Spanish Sausage)

The crew in an official Down With Dons party meeting lead by our Minister of War

The crew in an official Down With Dons party meeting lead by our Minister of War. L to R – Zappin, Sulli, Zache, Andru

“I had a dream I was wearing shorts. When I woke up I had pants on and I was happy.” (Andrew Zappin on his van dream)

“Stupid Dream” (Andru Bourbon in response to Zappin’s dream)

“I like all food that comes out of a tube…really!” (Andru Bourbon on his vegan culinary preferences)

“I like to taste my olive,” (Chris Brief on Spanish olive tapas)

“Where do we keep getting all of these random fucking CDs from?” (Chris Brief)

“The dwarf gave them to me,” (Sulli clarifying the origin of the dozens of random CDs sliding around the van floor)

“2 dwarves in 1 place, that’s like lightning striking twice in the same place,” (Zappin on 2 dwarf attendees of a show, one of whom gifted us dozens of random punk CDs)

“No, there are plenty of dwarves all over Europe,” (Andru Bourbon)

The crew in Trier, Germany (Photo by Justin Maurer)

The crew in Trier, Germany (Photo by Justin Maurer) L to R James, Zache, Sulli, Zappin, Chris, Andru

“I haven’t touched my dong this entire trip” (Zappin, on masturbation)

“So what you’re saying is that you’d consider having an open relationship with Jane Fonda” (Justin to Sulli on Barbarella-era Jane Fonda)

Roadside bar in rural Spain (photo by Andrew Zappin)

Roadside bar in rural Spain (photo by Andrew Zappin)

“I shot my friend with a BB Gun once” (Chris Brief)

“Watch out for scorpions, don’t touch black widows…there were some serious wasps” (Chris Brief on growing up in New Mexico)

“I think the most dangerous thing where I grew up was feral dogs with rabies…or wild pigs” (Andru Bourbon on growing up in East Germany)

“When I was growing up we had a family of skunks living underneath the house” (Chris Brief on coming of age in New Mexico)

Zache Davis in conversation with Ardavon Fatehi, Maniac roadie and filmmaker:

Zache – Why, you have a girl there?

Ardy: I have girls everywhere

Zache: I used to be like you

Ardy: I’m nothing like you

“If I have any Hopi in me, it’s because someone in my family raped a Hopi Indian” (Chris Brief on his family’s claim that they have Hopi Indian blood in the family)

“I would slit all of your throats to wash her underwear” (Andrew Zappin, on an attractive female pedestrian in Sevilla, Spain)

“I don’t know who I am anymore…no, I do, I’m the Minister of War” (Andrew Zappin)

“I won’t be crying tonight but next week I might drop a tear…secretly” (Andru Bourbon, discussing emotion in an atypically German way, on the departure of Maniac in Madrid)


Soundtrack to the tour was dominated by two standouts.  First off, the German 80s New Wave band TRIO (They are known primarily for their hit “Da Da Da” but the rest of their early catalog is criminally underrated.)  Our favorites included “Sunday Need Love, Monday Be Alone,” “Drei Mann Im Doppel Bed,” “Anna,” “Hearts Are Trump,” and more.

The 2nd Van Hit was a new French New Wave band called LA FEMME .  What excellent driving music.

Run With The Brown Buffalo

9 Feb


“We are all cockroaches.”  I have this realization, and it hits home and tears stream down my face. I have to take refuge in the airplane bathroom.  There is turbulence and my tears drip down onto my jeans and my shoes and the airplane bathroom floor.  I sob for Oscar Zeta Acosta. I sob for all of the pain in the world.  I sob for my uncle and aunt who were just murdered by their own son with a pair of hammers. I sob for my Grandmother who died before Christmas. I sob for Eric Garner who was strangled to death by NYPD on Staten Island. I sob for myself.

Finally I clean myself up and wash my face in the impossibly tiny airplane sink.  I feel like a giant. I am six foot one and I hit my head on some white hard plastic in the bathroom.  I look at myself in the mirror. I look like I have been crying, or that I am really stoned or maybe just red-eyed from lack of sleep.

I head out into the world of the plane and order a whiskey and coke from a pair of haggard flight attendants. They are friendly and I open up to them, telling them the story about the murder of my uncle and aunt in rural Michigan.


I’m on a gargantuan metal bird, soaring 3000 feet in the air. It’s an American Airlines flight from JFK to LAX. I am reading about Buffalo Brown, the Chicano lawyer with a lust for life and a fire in his belly. He has a thirst for the truth and a revolutionary spirit. He is defending the vatos locos in East Los Angeles during the Chicano Power movement in the late 60s. Bobby Kennedy is killed, LA Times journalist Ruben Salazar is killed, Molotov cocktails are thrown, it is a war between the pigs and the people on Whittier Boulevard. They blow up a Safeway and they try to blow up a courthouse. As a civil rights attorney, Brown is representing dozens of Chicano defendants who he lovingly refers to as Cockroaches. They cannot be killed, there are millions, they are despised by Anglo society but they refuse to hide, they have come out into the streets and are marching against Vietnam, marching for justice for their murdered brethren, fists in the air and Buffalo Brown is their lawyer and compatriot. In between he enjoys drink and drugs and women, after all this is the 1960s, but he wakes with that fire and he fights the good fight for the cockroaches.

I am reading this book and a very kind man from Jamaica has given me some free booze because he is an employee of American Airlines and can drink for free on the flights.


I drink a bottle of Merlot, not the tiny bottle, one of those medium sized ones. And then I upgraded to Jack Daniels and Diet Coke. I drink 3 or 4 plane cocktails and I am reading this book and I come to this realization.

In America we are all cockroaches.

My cockroach family tree:

My paternal great great grandfather, Jonas Maurer sailed from Bremen, Germany to Baltimore in 1906 and he was a cockroach. He went on to sweat and bleed in the factories of Youngstown, Ohio. Every 10 years he would change his nationality on the census: “Polish,” “Slav,” “Austrian.” He may have been illiterate, the borders in Eastern Europe may have been changing or maybe he didn’t know who he really was or where he was from.

My maternal great grandparents were Irish apple pickers in Yakima, Washington. They were migrant workers, they were cockroaches. My grandmother had to move to a different house every month because her father would drink and gamble all of his money away. He was a cockroach.

And so now here I am, a cockroach in America. I think of this. And the whole Occupy Wall Street movement, about the 1% controlling all of the wealth and the other 99% wage slaving to make these 1% even richer. I think about the Hands Up and the Black Lives Matter movement where black kids and all kids are saying enough to police shooting unarmed black men. I was in New York City and I saw the video of the cops choking that guy to death on Staten Island. He was selling cigarettes on a street corner to try and make money for his family. And they choked him to death.

I remembered the WTO protests in Seattle in the 90s. I remembered the cops billy clubbing teenage girls and grandmothers. I remembered the black woman who had her ear dangling in a bloody mess because she was hit by a rubber bullet. I remembered the tear gas and the danger and the broken windows and the cries of “WHO’S STREETS? OUR STREETS!”

And everything started to make sense to me while riding this great metal bird and tears welled up in my eyes.

So I had to lock myself in the airplane bathroom and tears were streaming down my face and onto my jeans and onto my shoes and onto the floor.

I was sobbing uncontrollably because I knew in my heart that I was a cockroach too and that I was related to all cockroaches everywhere. And I have to start changing around my life so that I can help other cockroaches because there are so many less fortunate than me, fighting over scraps, barely surviving. My talents are music and writing and so I need to hone these weapons, sharpen them, prepare for battle, prepare for war.

Acosta reading a chapter from "Revolt Of The Cockroach People" at the Festival de Flor y Canto, held in 1973 at the University of Southern California in Los Angeles. These photos capture Zeta as he holds back tears reading his description of the autopsy of Robert Fernandez. The passage describes in grisly detail how the team of coroners peel back the corpse's face and scalp to reveal a sand-filled cranium and a small bag holding Fernandez' brain. Photo Credit:  Michael V. Sedano.Copyright 1973, 2008.

Acosta reading a chapter from “Revolt Of The Cockroach People” at the Festival de Flor y Canto, held in 1973 at the University of Southern California in Los Angeles.
These photos capture Zeta as he holds back tears reading his description of the autopsy of Robert Fernandez. The passage describes in grisly detail how the team of coroners peel back the corpse’s face and scalp to reveal a sand-filled cranium and a small bag holding Fernandez’ brain.
Photo Credit:
Michael V. Sedano.Copyright 1973, 2008.

Before I can help any cockroaches I have to dig myself out of poverty and stop living paycheck to paycheck, stop living in debt. Poverty can be suffocating and I have to pull off this plastic shopping back tied onto my head. I have to get out of poverty. End that vicious cycle of debt in my life. Then I can help the cockroach.


So what are our weapons to fight back in the meantime? Words. Writing. Poetry. Literature. Comedy. And Music.

We can kick at them.

Writers’ words need to grow teeth and start biting ferociously. We have to start tearing at flesh.

Musicians chords need to cut through and their words need to have fire, the harmonies can be sweet but the intention must be all out war in defense of the cockroach.

We must make reality bleed. We must pop the bloated bubble and become savages. Drink the blood and march forward like a Viking army.


But back to Oscar Zeta Acosta. Acosta is best known as Hunter S. Thompson’s “Samoan” lawyer Dr. Gonzo in Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas. In reality, Thompson had traveled to Los Angeles to interview Acosta about the death of prominent Chicano journalist Ruben Salazar.  Acosta was an attorney taking on dozens of clients involved in the Chicano Power movement of East LA and he himself became fully involved.  On his suitcase was a sticker, “Chicano Pride,” and he carried a .357 magnum inside of that suitcase which accompanied him to many a court case. He not only had to protect himself against LAPD and the FBI who were tailing him around every corner, but there were threats within the movement as well.  In LA things proved too hot for Thompson and Acosta to have a quiet conversation so they decided to purchase loads of drugs and head to Las Vegas in search of the American Dream.  Thompson was offered a job by Sports Illustrated to cover a motorcycle race in the desert and they spent most of the $300 advance on purchasing drugs hastily gathered in 24 hours all over LA County.

Thompson’s tape recordings of 2 separate drug-fueled adventures to Vegas with Acosta became Fear And Loathing In Las Vegas.  However, Acosta was a writer in his own right, and he pledged to write a book about his experience in the Chicano Power movement.  In 1973 this came to fruition as Revolt of the Cockroach People after his 1972 book, Autobiography Of A Brown Buffalo.

Acosta and a female fan at the 1973 Festival de Flor y Canto, USC, Los Angeles.  Photo Credit: Michael V. Sedano.Copyright 1973, 2008. Acknowledgement to La Bloga for their great piece on Acosta in 2008

Acosta and a female fan at the 1973 Festival de Flor y Canto, USC, Los Angeles.
Photo Credit: Michael V. Sedano.Copyright 1973, 2008.
Acknowledgement to La Bloga for their great piece on Acosta in 2008

But let me go back in time for a second.

In a suburb north of Detroit Michigan my 2nd cousin murdered his parents with a pair of hammers.

I was heading to Boston where there was 3 feet of snow, but managed to reroute my trip to attend the funeral of my Great Uncle and Aunt.

After much eating and drinking and crying it was 11 degrees at 6 in the morning when my Uncle Charlie drove me to the airport.

I was overcome with grief and shock and started reading a book I brought along with me to take my mind off things.

The book was Oscar Zeta Acosta’s Revolt of the Cockroach People.

Hunter S. Thompson and Oscar Zeta Acosta at Caesar's Palace, Las Vegas in 1971.  Thompson was supposed to be interviewing Acosta about the killing of LA Times journalist, Acosta's friend Ruben Salazar.  The scene in LA proved to be too chaotic so they purchased many drugs and left town for Las Vegas when Thompson was offered to cover a  March and April 1971 was when Thompson and Acosta made 2 separate trips to Vegas. Both of these trips made up the material for "Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas." Acosta was upset to be referred to as "Samoan" so he demanded this photo be included on the back cover of the book as well as asking for writing credit as much of the book was based on tape recorded conversations the pair had. "The Gonzo Tapes" contains one of these interviews

Hunter S. Thompson and Oscar Zeta Acosta at Caesar’s Palace, Las Vegas in 1971. Thompson was supposed to be interviewing Acosta about the killing of LA Times journalist, Acosta’s friend Ruben Salazar. The scene in LA proved to be too chaotic so they purchased many drugs and left town for Las Vegas when Thompson was offered to cover a race in Vegas for Sports Illustrated.
March and April 1971 was when Thompson and Acosta made 2 separate trips to Vegas. Both of these trips made up the material for “Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas.” Acosta was upset to be referred to as “Samoan” so he demanded this photo be included on the back cover of the book as well as asking for writing credit as much of the book was based on tape recorded conversations the pair had. “The Gonzo Tapes” contains one of these interviews

I knew about Hunter S. Thompson’s “Samoan” attorney in Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas. What I didn’t know is that this lawyer was a real person. He was Zeta Acosta and he was there in the trenches of East LA, Whittier Boulevard, Boyle Heights, Tooner Flats during the Chicano Power movement of the late 60s.

When I began to turn the pages, Revenge of the Cockroach People was instantly irreverent and unabashedly un-PC. Like all great writing it kicked me in the gut, the book challenged me to continue turning the pages.

He championed the Vato Loco and described East LA and Downtown LA beautifully.

Here he writes from his Downtown LA hotel, walking distance from Skid Row:

“I’ve been in town six hours and now lie naked on my bed with the window of my sleazy downtown hotel room open to the sounds of the city. I have nothing to do until I see my sister in the morning. After checking into the Belmont at Third and Hill, I walked the streets until dark to shake the cramping bus ride from my bones. But already my bones have told me that I have come to the most detestable city on earth. They have carried me through the filthy air of a broken city filled with battered losers. Winos in tennies, skinny fags in tight pants and whores in purple skirts all ignore the world beyond the local bar, care about nothing except where the booze comes cheapest or the latest score on the radio. Where I am, the buildings are crumbling to pieces. The paint is cracked and falling to the streets covered with green and brown phlegm, with eyeless souls who scuttle between tall buildings hoping to find a bed, a bottle, a joint, a broad or even a loaf of bread. Streets filled with dark people, hunchbacked hobos, bums out of work, garbage of yesterday and tomorrow; with black men and women in bright garish clothes, brown men with mustaches to boost themselves up a notch, coffee-drinking people, wine-sipping sods who haven’t had more than five bucks at a time since the last war. And then back to the hotel…”


Buffalo Brown travels to Delano, California to meet his hero Cesar Chavez who is weak and bed-ridden in the middle of a hunger strike. Bobby Kennedy is shot and killed. Brown takes LSD in the desert with his vato loco friends. The Charles Manson family murders take place. And the death of of journalist Ruben Salazar at the hand of LAPD. Brown runs for Sheriff of LA County and his only campaign promise is to dismantle the LA Sheriff department. He comes in second place. In contempt of court, various judges throw him in jail dozens of times.


Here Zeta tells us about East LA:

“Tooner Flats, a neighborhood of shacks and clotheslines and dirty back yards. At every other corner, street lights hang high on telephone poles and cast dim yellow glows. Skinny dogs and wormy cats sniff garbage cans in the alleys. Tooner Flats is the are of gangs who spend their last dime on short dogs of T-Bird wine, where the average kid has eight years of school. Everybody there gets some kind of welfare.

You learn about life from the toughest guy in the neighborhood. You smoke your first joint in an alley at the age of ten; you take your first hit of carga before you get laid; and you learn how to make your mark on the wall before you learn how to write. Your friends know you to be a vato loco, a crazy guy, and they call you “ese,” or “vato,” or “man” …

There is no school for a vato loco. There is no job in sight. His only hope is for a quick score. Reds and Ripple mixed with a bennie, a white and a toke. And when your head is tight, you go town to the hangout and wait for the next score.

On the day he died, Robert had popped reds with wine and then conked out for a few hours. When he awoke he was ready for more. But first he went down to Cronie’s on Whittier Boulevard, the Chicano Sunset Strip. Every other door is a bar, a pawn shop or a liquor store. Hustlers roam freely across asphalt decorated with vomit and dogshit. If you score in East Los Angeles you score on The Boulevard. Broads, booze and dope. Cops on every corner make no difference. The fuzz, la placa, la chota, los marranos, la jura or just the plain old pig. The eternal enemies of the people. The East LA Sheriff’s Substation is only three blocks away on Third Street, right alongside the Pomona Freeway. From the blockhouse, deputies come out in teams of two, “To Serve And Protect!” Always with thirty-six-inch clubs, with walkie-talkies in hand; always with gray helmets, shotguns in the car and .357 Magnums in their holsters.

The vato loco has been fighting with the pig since the Anglos stole his land in the last century. He will continue to fight until he is exterminated.”

Photo Credit: Michael V. Sedano.Copyright 1973, 2008.

Photo Credit: Michael V. Sedano.Copyright 1973, 2008.

In perhaps his most moving courthouse speech, a straight out of Hollywood speech, he recants the history of the American Chicano:

“It is 1509 AD…We are in Cuba…A captain from Castile wants gold…He wants land and he wants slaves. He also wants to go on a mission for his god and his king…He fills three boats with soldiers, fire powder and horses, which sail west until they land on the coast of what we now know as Mexico.

“The king, the supreme ruler in the land of the Hummingbird Wizard, hears of the arrival of white men in long boats. It is a prophecy come true. For over two hundred years, the prophets of Quetzalcoatl have predicted this event. The king, Montezuma, has taken upon himself all power in his empire. He is both political ruler and chief priest. In a word, he has assumed the status of a god. Not even his family can look him in the eye. He has become the principal deity of the people of Tenochtitlan in the valley of Mexico. The people are called, collectively, the aztecas.

The captain from Castile, Hernando Cortez, burns the boats and tells his men there is no turning back. They have come to this strange land to conquer or die for the glory of God. They attack village after village, taking captives and booty. They make alliances with the natives, promising them protection from Montezuma’s bloody rituals, from the human sacrifices to Huitzilopochtli, the god of war.

Anxious to rid themselves of the burden of Montezuma, these Indians, as they are called by the Catholic Cortez, join up with the Spaniards. They march toward the capital, thirty-thousand strong…Through diplomacy, political chicanery and modern techniques of warfare, the white men on horses and their army of slaves enter triumphantly into the most advanced city in the world, the world’s most beautiful city. In 1500 AD, Mexico City far surpasses anything that the Spaniards have seen on the European continent. There is an efficient government. It is a city with streets and canals and a sewage system, a city of gold and birds and leopards and barber shops. A land of flowers and parrots, mountains and blue beaches. They have priests and philosophers, soldiers and artists.

…And then (Cortez) ransacks the capital and sends the gold and glitter to his king in Spain. And they rape the women. If you want to join the new nation, all you have to do is give up your slave name and your slave tongue. If you want to become a Spaniard, be baptized and take a Christian name. An attack upon the Church is an assault upon the State. And vice versa. Church and State are one.

Ad for Acosta's Autobiography

Ad for Acosta’s Autobiography

Three hundred years later, in 1850 AD, more white men in covered wagons come to the land of the northern deserts, the land we now call the Southwest. It is the ancient land of Aztlan, the original homeland of the aztecas. New invaders. New conquerors. They, too come with fire power and the flag of a new nation…As Cortez had done before, through modern warfare, through politics and diplomacy, the new white barbarians invade the land and subdue it. They inform the people that they now have a new government and a new religion – Christianity. They sign a treaty called Guadalupe Hidalgo. The United States pays a couple of million to an idiot in Mexico City for all Aztlan and for all the slaves living thereon. The treaty says that, if the people choose, they can remain as citizens of America or they can go south to Mexico.

“But we are not Mexicans,’ the people cry out. ‘We are Chicanos from Aztlan. We have never left our land. Our fathers never engaged in bloody sacrifices. We are farmers and hunters and we live with the buffalo.’

“But they are wrong. They are now citizens of America, whether they like it or not. And we’ll call them Mexican-Americans. But if they want to be Americans, they’ll have to give up their slave name.

…And when they entered they were told: There is No Room. Leave, or we’ll kill you. Or jail you. Insult you. Mace you. Kick and bite. Scream and holler. While the choir sings, ‘Oh come all ye faithful…Oh come ye, Oh come ye…to jail and court. Court and jail…Come. Come! Come!’

…And yet we are guilty of inciting to riot. We did want a riot. We sought it. And we did accomplish it!…A riot of the brain. A revolution of the spirit.”

And so I finished Revolt of The Cockroach People and it was one of the best books I read in years. It shoots from the hip and bleeds from the heart and it does not hide behind any thin veils of political correctness.  It is Gonzo literature from Dr. Gonzo himself. This book was written in defense of the vato loco and all cockroaches, straight from the lips and the pen of their very own defense lawyer.  From the trenches of civil rights the Brown Buffalo plowed forward. And if he didn’t achieve all of his objectives, he took a few bastards down with him.  Until the bastards got him back in the end.  Oscar Zeta Acosta mysteriously disappeared in 1974 while in Mexico and was never seen again.

When we learn to walk with the cockroach then we will learn to run with the buffalo.

Dedicated to the memory of Oscar Zeta Acosta.