Saturday Night Massacre

I want to tell you that when we started Saturday Night Massacre, we were just doing it for the art, and that there wasn't any ambition for us beyond making something where there wasn't something before. It was for the art, man! But twenty years ago -- holy fuck was it really twenty years ago? That can't be right. I must have made that up, because we are not that old -- twenty years ago, when Soul Coughing was putting spoken word poetry to music, and the experimental films of Kenneth Anger and Jack Smith were making their way across the early Internet, all three of us privately entertained dreams of hopping into their wake and riding the wave to wealth and fame.

It was never going to happen, of course, for a whole host of reasons, and eventually, our real lives took up so much space, there wasn't room any left for SNM. But as Sean and I got together to make new pieces, we wondered ... what if we had made the room? What if we could make different choices? If we could go back in time and trade any one of our super not legal parking lot shows, or quasi-legal LA River performances for the kind of performance at the Palladium or The Palace that would have led us to money or fame ... well, the younger version of SNM would have done that faster than you could load a film loop. But this version that you're hearing today? No way. Trade the parking lot show in North Hollywood, where we all nearly got arrested for trespassing, only to be saved by the cops being called away to a literal gang shootout a half mile up the road? Or the warehouse show in Downey that lost power in the middle of our set, and was saved by our third member going acoustic with materials he found on the stage, while Wil read a psychiatric diagnosis that was found in a condemned mental hospital, and Sean improvised film descriptions? Trade those memories and experiences for a shot at fifteen minutes that would have been over in ten?

No fucking way. The money would have been spent, and the fame would have faded so completely, there wouldn't be any evidence that it ever existed at all. But the memories are priceless, and they are part of the foundation we built, together, upon which our individual successes now sit.

We don't know if we'll ever get the full band back together again, but if you're one of the few who saw us back then, you'll certainly recognize the spiritual presence of He Who Wishes To Not Be Named But Is As Much A Part Of This Now As He Ever Was. The world has changed so much since then, we don't know if we could even pull off a show like we did back then, or if the fortysomething version of us would even know how.

But what you helped us create is more than these pieces of art (that we sincerely hope you love). You helped us reach back through time and see a version of ourselves that we've forgotten ever existed, and you helped us remember.

If we promised you 2 songs, we are giving you 3. If you were expecting 3, you are getting 4. This is just the beginning. There is so much more to come.

-Wil, and Sean and [Redacted]