It all started about five years ago. My brother Z was gone. I could not find him. I spent one and a half year looking for him. Then the subject lost it's meaning. In those days I was playing in really bad blues/ cover /drunk bands. I ended up selling my drums. I needed money to support my drinking habit. I quit playing and became a full time drunk.
As i was wasting my time (and the ones around me) in bars around the world, specially the United States Of America, my brother Z was being locked down in an Indonesian penitentiary. Z Rivers had gotten in trouble with the law in several far eastern countries (to which most of he has permanent exile). He was about to return "home" but decided to visit one last place, a small Indonesian island to drink and enjoy the company of women. The party where Z was boozing was a raid organized by the local law enforcement to gather loose westerners to be put away. Z earned a 10 year trophy to be served in the local grill.
Around the same period another western guitar hero had been trying out his luck in Australia. The quite successful talent, as he was, Mike Henry Leak mastered the straight forward rock and roll. Australia was on its knees. The only think Leak did not master was king alcohol. After a illustrious but sad performance the guitar player ended up killing the local head of police. The story may be true, but mr. Leak has little or no recollection of the event. According to one version of the legend a guitar solo ended in a terrifying fist fight.
Mike Henry Leak managed to flee the country with the aid of his band members and was on his way to Indonesia when he was arrested for speeding. The law found out that he was wanted in Australia. Mike Henry Leak was put away for 10 years.
The boys had already served two and a half years when I got the first (and only) letter from my brother Z. The letter had followed me around the world, to various addresses until it finally reached me at Black Canyon City, Arizona. My father Michael almost lend me money so I decided to travel to Indonesia.
The only things I remember from the journey to asia is one beautiful air hostess and the colossal amount of alcohol and "medicine" which was needed to get me there!
In Indonesia it all went well. Just a stack of dollars to the right people and the men where free. On the way to Arizona we developed an idea of how could pay of my father. We started a band! After spending 38 on flights we had already formed eleven different bands. When we got home Mike Henry noted the state of abasement we were in, He said: "we are on the rock bottom!...We are one fucking Blues Station!"
Thats it! One has to pay his dues and come op with subsistence. We no longer have any business in the United States Of America, except for touring but thats as far as it goes! Thats why our best base is here in Finland: it is cold as hell, people are unloving, there is plenty to drink and the women are more the worlds most beautiful.