Extremities – Chicago 11/28

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HERE WE GO

Right after Geordie passed, I gritted my teeth and decided to go down to the basement and print some shirts, crank some KJ LOUD, and work my way through it and turn the energy into some ART. It did not work like that at all. I made it about 30 seconds and just sat and cried. Over the last two years, I’ve stumbled into bits and pieces. Playing the demos Geordie and I did with Steve Albini at the Museum for interested fans, I realized, “damn, this was me, Geordie, and Steve, and it’s just me now…” That was a moment. And, those of you who have followed my posts or been to the Museum know how connected I was to Raven. That rhythm section thing.

So, I came back to the Extremities album in Feb of this year. I thought I’d listen to a couple of songs. Bang! Termite Mound really got me, I went to sing along (I used to do backups with Jaz) and ‘termite’ stuck in my throat. Ha ha ha. I was slightly astounded by the beats my furious 35-year younger self conjured up. I’ve spent much time dismissing my writing/drumming role just saying that the album was a ‘knife fight’ to get loud, inspirational Killing Joke to the front past the OTG remains. Me and Geordie vs the world for a bit before Raven rejoined. But I listened to the drums and the songs. Found myself dancing in the studio. Breathless of course. I’m old AF. And listened some more.

Then, I thought it would be a good idea for me to play along to some songs – after all, I am a drummer, right? Something strange happened that maybe some people can explain in different ways, but I will go ahead and try. When someone looks at a photo, video or an object that reminds you of someone/something important – then that hits your brain and does whatever it does with memory circuits etc. but, when I drummed the beats that I hadn’t in 33 years, it was like a different, physical, back channel? Visceral pipeline into the space we made the music in? It was JARRING, and I cried a lot, unexpectedly. I think I broke a finger too, which felt totally correct. We were warriors then for sure so it was just like, yeah, deal with it. That was Feb (I posted about it a little) and the germ of an idea started to form. Robby and the staff of Reggie’s have always been super supportive of me (for years and years and years now like family) and conversations with them made this a no brainer. Nicely oversize sound system for the room, balcony, places for friends and family, accessible, A dress rehearsal the day before. And BANG! We put this together. Then, you just fall back into the universe and see what happens.

I chatted with Randy on his recent book tour and asked if he was familiar with the album. He opened his new book to the ‘Money Is Not Our God’ chapter. Next up a few things happened, if you listen to Steven Seibold playing guitar on the Damage Manual Limited Edition you know that there was only one choice of guitarist for this if it was to go forwards. Justin Pearson’s concern to honor Paul correctly on the bass guitar (then the arrival of Paul’s bass case at the museum from the UK via Texas) sealed that. Then I see that Steven was at The Anson Ford Theater Extremities show in 1989/1990? (one of my most favorite) being led onstage by a phalanx of ski torch bearers in the open-air venue. Triumphant. KJ AF.

Then some other things; I’d forgotten that Invisible used to be at 2024 south Wabash, just FEET from Reggie’s, I printed the MINOG backdrops there with Steve Silver and Matt Schulz, Paul Raven spray painted them, we rehearsed there, Jaz poured gasoline all over a cash register under the L tracks and set it on fire stopping the L trains and alerting the cops. PERFECT. Steve Silver walked me across to the sketchiest Western Union EVER to pick up a $10k deposit from a promoter. Steve says he will tell some stories, I will too during the evening. Then, for some reason I crossed paths with the ferocious Tara from I Speak Machine, Leyla Royale will join on cello, and Orville Kline at the sampler and boom!

So here I am once more, falling backwards into the universe. My body is older, by far. I have a new hip that seems to be ok now. I dropped a lot of weight this last year, maybe 50lbs. My hands hurt. A lot. My legs? We will see. My heart? Full. Listening to the album a lot has made me fall in love with it all over again, or, maybe more accurately, for the first time. It was a painful, triumph when we made it, our bodies too tensed as we pushed through the wall, to relax and absorb where we were. Now, I can listen and feel it. And try my best to honor it. 

I am a drummer, 
I love Killing Joke 
and what we did. 

So, here we go. 

Martin Atkins