Karma to Burn: The Long Version, Pt 3

Check out Parts 1 and 2, then get 'er done here.

Which one thing do you wish you knew back then?
RM: What we didn’t know back then is you really can’t force lyrics onto an existing piece of work. We went in and recorded a record instrumentally, then Roadrunner’s idea was to get someone to sing on top of what was already there, rather than have us sit down and rewrite all the songs and record them for vocals. We worked with a couple of producers, and no one ever suggested that as a thing to do. [Laughs.] We had no idea.

WM: We went at it as hard as we could in the ’90s, and people kicked us in the dick every fuckin’ time we had a chance to shine. We tried to do what we wanted to do, yet people always wanted to change that or manipulate us.

How do you feel about the term “stoner rock”?
WM: The first time we heard of the term, Rich and I hadn’t even smoked pot yet.

RM: I like it. I always liked it. I liked it for a different reason back in the day because people would always bring us weed, which was great. Now I enjoy it because it was its own little thing back then and it was cool to be a part of it.

The first single off Appalachian Incantation, “Waiting on the Western World,” features Year Long Disaster vocalist Daniel Davies. What made that song so special?
RM: We actually wrote it for vocals. It was our first time where we sat down and wrote a song with a singer. He also plays guitar on that song.

Karma to Burn and Year Long Disaster are touring right now, but Rob is filling in for drummer Brad Hargreaves in YLD [who had a conflicting tour with his “day” band, Third Eye Blind] and Daniel is playing guitar with KTB. What’s that like?
RM: It’s all merging into one band. [Laughs.] It was really fun to do that one song with Daniel, so we thought we’d try to do some more stuff along those lines and do it soon… like record a whole record this year. The four of us are really good together, so we want to pursue that no matter which name we use, it’s all the same guys. It’ll be fun.

What’s the oddest thing about being back on the road?
RM: The weirdest thing is we have so many kids at the shows, and I thought it would be all be older people. That’s kind of great.

What are you out to prove this time around?
RM: We just have musical goals. I just want to show that our band can do exactly what I thought we could do back in ’99, when everyone was like, “you gotta check this band out”… and take it to a higher level.

Read Parts 1 and 2 here.

Karma to Burn: The Long Version, Pt 2

Read part 1 first, then get back here.

What went through your mind during those weeks between exchanging phone numbers?
WM: It was burning a hole in me. [I kept thinking] even if we don’t get back together, I still need to talk to them. It had been seven years since I talked to either of them. But I did it on my terms.

What was that first conversation like?
WM: It went well. It was something I’d never done before. Getting back with Rich—especially Rich—I really had to sit down and face the facts: Am I gonna live with this anger all my life? And the answer is no. There’s no sense in going through life being angry at someone.

Rich started off apologizing. I said: We all know what we all did. If we want to do this, let’s just forget about it and move forward. I think the first words out of his mouth were, “Thank God.”

RM: I needed to talk to Will man to man, just about all the past stuff that I did when I quit the band. [Sighs.] Mistakes were made, bad decisions were made while high. I wanted to talk to him, but he didn’t want to talk to me and I knew it. I waited patiently.

What were those first new rehearsals like?
WM: When they got out [of rehab] and we started playing again, they reminded me of the people I played with in the first place.

Even though we hadn’t played together in seven years, getting back and writing with those guys didn’t feel like we missed a step at all. It seems like the material that we wrote recently would have happened if we could’ve kept our act together.

RM: We were so close [at one point], we had been together almost every day for about 10 years straight. There was so much history between us that it was just so easy to just go right back to the music. We pretty much grew up learning how to play together.

Now, go to Part 3!

Karma to Burn: The Long Version, Pt 1

When I first met the guys in Karma to Burn, I wasn't even old enough to drink yet. In fact, in order to attend the SxSW be bonded at, HIGH TIMES had to invest in a fake ID for me (which I was promptly busted with during my second night in town). We were introduced by their long-suffering A&R guy and a long, tempestuous friendship was born—particularly with bassist/ringleader/snake oil salesman Rich "Little Dickie" Mullins.

Little did I know then just what a dangerous meeting it was. Over the years, I beared witness to so many hustles, white powders, unsavory situations, and industry fuckfests with the instrumental trio, that I'm honestly surprised (and infinitely pleased) they're all still breathing and thriving. And it always irked me that their place in stoner rock history was regularly overshadowed by their party legacy.

Recently, I had the opportunity to interview them about their reunion for DECIBEL. It gave me the rare chance to put on my Journalist hat and really ask them all the questions I probably would never have the balls to ask as a friend. And naturally, a lot of it didn't make it to print because of word count restrictions.

Not wanting to waste all that editing, I decided to post my interview with Rich Mullins and Will Mecum here in three parts. Enjoy.

Did you ever expect Karma to Burn to reunite?
Will Mecum: No, definitely not. There were a lot of things that were left undone when we decided to split; a lot of anger—and a lot of late night revenge scenarios. Like, ‘if I ever see that guy again…” And that went on for years.

What was the breakup like for you?
WM: I lost my band, I lost a friend, and I lost a career—if you want to call it that. [Laughs] It all went to shit. Substances got in the way, personalities got in the way. We lost sight of the goals that we set when we first started playing.

What kind of substance issues did you have?
Rich Mullins: Everyone in our band had a little bit of a heroin problem; mine was giant and Rob’s was giant. Will was able to just stop, Will doesn’t really have that personality for it.

How did you get clean?
RM: After Speedealer, I went to Holland for a year, then I came to L.A. and that’s where I got clean. I was in a rehab, and the guy who ran the place came up to me and said, what if I say the name ‘Rob Oswald’ to you? I go, ‘Oh, I love that guy.’ He said, ‘well, he’s behind this door.’ Can you imagine?

WM: I’m proud to say that I’m the only member of the band that didn’t have to go to rehab. But my addiction wasn’t anything minuscule. I went cold turkey and it was not pleasant. I quit my job and I locked myself in my apartment for 10 days. After the eighth or ninth days, I started feeling human again. 

How did the two of you get back in contact after you’d cleaned up?
WM: I got a call really late at night, [a mutual friend] said that Rich and Rob were trying to get a hold of me. Two weeks later I said yes to giving them my number. Rich texted me—and I’m not one to really receive texts that well. The first thing I texted back was, “Fuck you, L.A. cunt.”

Then Rob called and we talked for a good two hours. He said, “You really need to talk to Rich.” After that conversation, I waited another week and got Rich’s phone number and I sat down and talked to him.


Want to read more? Check out the rest in Part 2 and Part 3.


Photo lifted from Raginpit magazine.

Waiting on the Western World

Here's something truly rare: a Karma to Burn song with vocals! Year Long Disaster's Daniel Davies laid down some magic on "Waiting on the Western World" the first single off of KTB's comeback album, Appalachian Incantation, which came out in the US just yesterday. Go buy it!

Better yet, go see the two bands play together on tour, which kicks off this Friday night at Brooklyn's Knitting Factory. For more dates and info, click here.

It's Been A While..

Where did March go? It dawned on me that it's been almost a month since I posted on here. Coincidentally, it's almost been as long since my last gym visit, but Lost is on soon, so I figured this was the way to go.

Work's been busy with all sorts of fun stuff, but somehow I found the time to interview Ratt's Stephen Pearcy for Metal Sucks and got a preview of their stellar forthcoming album, Infestation. I got to tell Pearcy all about Ratturday, averted a "Way Cool Jr." pun, and please believe I melted a little in my seat when the elder statesman of thigh bruisers referred to me as "girlie." Look for that write-up shortly.

Besides swooning over a 50-yr-old man, I managed to avoid lots of other aging rockers by not attending South by Southwest this year. While it would have been awesome to hang out in a beer- and BBQ sauce-basted city surrounded by 95 percent of my favorite people on Earf, the lineup seemed way more like a '90s revival than a new music festival (Stone Temple Pilots and Hole were leading headliners). I could have done without it all except for the Sword/ Year Long Disaster/ Motorhead show at Stubb's. THAT would have been cool to see. Did anyone out there besides Henry Owings witness the alleged Shellac gig?

I'm actually quite excited about a bunch of shows going on around NYC in May, including Karma to Burn with Year Long Disaster at Knitting Factory, the Yuppicide reunion at the Black N Blue Ball, plus two nights of HIM (don't judge me) at Irving Plaza.

Cannot wait to sink my teeth into the forthcoming Deftones record, Daughters' latest, and someone needs to tell me if the new Black Rebel Motorcycle Club album is any good. As for stuff I've been listening to: Dax Riggs. Lots and lots of Dax Riggs. Also, the four-disc deluxe edition of Iggy & The Stooges' Raw Power is pretty effin dope, its greatest revelation being Georgia Peaches - Live at Richard's Atlanta, 1973. Last good show was Black Dahlia Murder at a packed Santos Party House.

Until next time... play them out, Dax:

Shut Up And Listen To... Karma To Burn

Back in the day when instrumental-only bands were as rare as Republicans with a sense of humor, Morgantown, WV's Karma to Burn were tearing up stages and blowing through towns like a gang of rock n roll outlaws. And like all good (or bad) volatile creations, the band eventually went out in a blaze of glory, becoming the stuff of legend.

Then earlier this year, the trio made peace and decided to give it another go—headlining festivals all across Europe (where they're HUGE) mere months after the reunion. So in honor of their recent signing with Napalm Records and brand-new DVD, I implore you to shut up and listen to Karma to Burn.

Karma To Burn Reunite

There are few bands more appropriately named than Karma To Burn. The (mostly) instrumental trio from Morgantown, WV garnered as much acclaim for their meaty riffs and take-no-prisoners performance style as they did for their drug-fueled offstage antics. Led by a charismatic bass-playing sociopath named Rich "Little Dickie" Mullins, there was no telling what kind of trouble you'd get into hanging out with them—nor the snake-charming schemes you'd be let in on. This was all around 1996; and after the new millennium came and went—as did Karma To Burns' four-album career—I lost track of the guys.

Oddly enough, while Karma To Burn remain an obscure footnote in the American "desert rock" genre, they really were fucking huge in Europe. How huge? Well, let's put it this way: their current American club tour is a mere warm-up for their overseas festival appearances.

As fate would have it, they're playing tonight (4/20!) at NYC's Lit bar. But since I'm living it up in Florida until tomorrow, my plan is to catch them next week at Philly's Trocadero. Who's coming with me?

For a full list of shows, check out Karma To Burns' Myspace page. I, for one, can't wait to see them again (and get a T-shirt for posterity this time around).

SxSW Flashbacks

The first time I attended SxSW, the mega-music fest in Austin, TX, I was a 19-year-old intern at High Times and was flown down to produce a streetwear fashion show as part of the magazine's annual party. I had no idea what I was in store for. Between party planning, model fittings, self-medicated tangents enhanced by the dozens of bats circling the high-rise hotel party room—plus seeing acts like Clutch, Wesley Willis, Iggy Pop, Karma to Burn and Red Aunts—I was definitely not ready for the madness (not to mention the following week's Comparative Political Systems midterm I hadn't studied for).

Over the years, I've gotten the SxSW experience down to a science. Being familiar with the 6th Street clubs and knowing all the fun locals usually helps; and it's absolutely crucial to have a forcible partner in crime. Enter Merilee 666, aka Zombie Kitten. Together, our bitch powers exponentially strengthened and our ability to talk our way into—and, sometimes, out of—situations created a legacy and more than a few funny stories.

Granted, I've probably forgotten more crap that I've done at SxSW than I actually remember, which is sometimes for the best. But before my memory's shot for good, I wanted to count down my Tex-ass adventures. Some are goofy, a lot are medicament related, and then there were a few really f'd up things that happened—like Merilee jumping into traffic on the then-undeveloped South Congress Ave. and giving herself a concussion—that just didn't seem right fitting under "awesome." But since she's the one that reminded me of that day, fuck it, read about it under #5. And please, I know it's hard, but don't trip on all the names I dropped. (I may be an asshole, but at least I'm self-aware.)

Of course, I'll be doing it all again this year... and blogging/Tweeting about it. So before I get caught up in this year's whirlwind, here's my run-down of SxSW moments from years past:




1. Meeting Mastodon & Kicking Them Out - For a while there, Merilee and I toyed with the idea of starting a company called C.W.I. And though we could never get a good business plan going for it, we knew our core mission had something to do with tray wares and role reversal. Enter Mastodon's Brent Hinds, who was one of our earliest adapters. He, in turn, invited the rest of his great unwashed band to our hotel room for a demo—and the then-unknown act presumed that they'd be crashing with us that night. Not so. I kicked their asses out. The boys were not pleased... and over the next year, each of them took me aside and individually chewed me out for my bitchy behavior. Well deserved, I suppose, and thankfully we got past it way before they became poised to take over the rock world (when are those Vans coming out, Brann?).



2. Lemmy & The Yellow Rose - My good friend Wes has been following around Lemmy Kilmister for a documentary he's filming on the legend, and he didn't have to ask me twice to accompany them to one of Austin's premiere gentlemen's clubs, the Yellow Rose. To be honest, I was a little disappointed with the quality of dancers (then again, I'd been living in Atlanta, and it's sort of a huge point of pride there), but there was one showgirl who performed a trick involving her nipple and a lit match. I was intrigued and asked her to show me how she did it, which she did, demonstrating on me. I did it all for Lemmy.

3. Oh, Isaac Hanson - One of my favorite restaurants in Austin is the BBQ mecca, Iron Works. During our first visit there years ago, I discovered a giant Texas-shaped mirror in their womens bathroom and insisted Merilee see it as we left the restaurant. Once inside, we probably tapped a one-hitter to help settle dinner and giggled at the mirror, then stumbled out—right into the eldest of the Hanson brothers, Isaac. He looked at us, staring closely at Merilee's wild 10 lbs worth of dreadlocks (replete with quarter-machine prizes as ornaments), and nervously greeted us. Then, turning to Mer, said, "Your hair is very... cool. You're very brave."

"Right on," she responded casually, handing him an invite to the High Times party. Then, as we left the joint, Merilee turned to me and said in all seriousness: "time to shave my head."

4. Being Stalked By Shat's Jeff Wood - I wouldn't exactly say I was in any kind of danger, but considering my Psilocybin-enhanced demeanor, I was in no mood to entertain date requests from a guy who followed me into a women's bathroom whilst wearing a tie that read, "I [Heart] Cunt." Still, there was something endearing about the Shat figurehead (maybe it's hit songs like "Cunt Flavored Lollipops" and "Vagetarian") that keeps him close to my heart. One day, Jeff. One day...



5. Merilee's First TX-Sized Concussion - After persuading Hank III & Assjack to perform at High Times' party (along with acts as varied as Keller Williams and Stephen Perkins), Merilee and I wound up inadvertently taking off on their bus as they made their way to their second gig of the night at Continental Club. At that point, HT's party was hosted at a venue specializing in making frozen drinks with Everclear and grain alcohol, so we were probably a little hammered when we decided to walk back to our hotel on the unpaved and elevated strip of South Congress that led back to the Embassy Suites. When we came to an impass, we had only one choice: to jump down six feet or so down to the traffic-heavy street. Merilee went first, and promptly made contact with the concrete using her head. Her eyes started rolling into the back of her head and we freaked out a little. Mel and I helped her back to our room, settled her in the bed and made sure Merilee stayed awake and ate some room service fries. As soon as she was feeling better, I went off to my next adventure of the night... getting cock-blocked by Jello Biafro (see below).

6. Cock-Blocked By Jello Biafra - Sure, he's a punk legend and all, but that motherfucker can talk. Especially when he's coked up. And adding more cause to speculation that he bats for both teams, I clearly caught him checking out both me and my date. Paying close attention to the detailing on my boy's custom leather pants, Jello announced that he would thereby refer to him as Shank Skullbutt. That's when I rolled my eyes and thought, "Jello Biafra get the fuck off the bus so I can make out with my boy." But he STILL didn't get it. Be warned, Jello Biafra is a furious cock blocker.



7. Yngwie Who? Yngwie Fucking Malmsteen! - It's kind of a trip thinking about how many different kinds of acts I've caught at SxSW over the years. Last year, my big bragging rights came after seeing the Clipse immediately after headbanging to Motorhead—all before 5 pm. But nothing was quite as trippy as seeing Yngwie Malmsteen at the gratefully dead Back Room (for a long time, all metal shows were relegated to this strip-mall rock joint). Malmsteen, in all his bloated, foundation-wearing glory rocking out. It would be years before he unleashed the fury, but at least we had that one night in Austin.

8. Smoking The Bible - Picture the scenario: A group of us throw our luggage down in our off-strip hotel room, we get our hands on some premium green... and there are no papers anywhere. Then someone (Rob? Derek? E?) remembered that Bibles were printed on rice paper, thereby making the blank sheets inside safe to smoke. It worked in a pinch, but it didn't spark that well. Am I going to Hell? Sure. At least I'll be with all the cool kids.



9. The Meaning Of 'Karma To Burn' - During my very first SxSW, I met (and damn-near adopted) an instrumental trio from Morgantown, WV named Karma to Burn. And in our many years of friendship, I have never met a group—led by charismatic snake-oil salesman Rich "Little Dickie" Mullins—so deservedly and ironically named. There have been a few years between now and that fateful meeting so long ago when I didn't know what they were up (but hoped for the best) and I'm glad we're all around today to laugh about it.

10. Getting Busted - As mentioned above, I was 19 when I first came to SxSW—just two years shy of legally drinking. So what was a girl to do? Get a fake I.D. Little did I know at the time that Texas was super strict about checking licenses, and not surprisingly, I got caught... in front of a bunch of music-biz execs. Thankfully, I still had my official badge and was let in after the legendary Harry Crossfield Jr. hooked me up.

What does this year have to offer? Bring it.