Streets of Kittery by Jim Danger

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                      Jim Danger
                          January 19, 2017

Thoughts On GG Allin by Jim Danger {Was GG To Be Admired?}

Re-Post of article i wrote in 2015:

Thoughts on GG Allin: Is GG To Be Admired?

by Jim Danger 8/2,3/15

GG Allin was like a scientific experiment in real life. What if there was a guy who absolutely refused to observe rules, laws, of any kind; who insisted on “going too far”, every time out? He freely admitted that he couldn't help himself, couldn't hold back, couldn't stay within any “reasonable” guidelines, even when his own band depended on his ability to “not go too far.”

I think that a lot of the fascination with GG Allin is based on the fact of his being a spectacle – the guy in the experiment, the singular “what if” specimen, who is probably the only case we're going to see, of a person acknowledging NO bounds.

Is GG Allin to be a hero because of his refusal – his inability – to obey any rules?

This question itself contains questions. He clearly could, at times, obey rules. When on television talk shows, for example, he would usually guard his language, carefully avoiding a lot of offensive words that must have come to mind at such times. “You're following a false Bible,” he declared on the Jane Whitney show in New York, a day or two before his death, “I wipe my a- [pause] – butt with it!” This always interested me, the quick-change choice of words, there, carefully altered the fit the TV audience. He could control himself, at times. He also declared on a TV show that he would rather be naked, “if they'd let me.” He had to follow certain guidelines, or not be on TV. He was not “totally out of control.”

The main question at hand here is: Is GG Allin is to be admired, considered a hero, for the way he lived? Certainly, some do revere him for his pedal-to-the-metal, headlong dive into destruction. Why is that? I still think it's the spectacle factor, and the vicarious participation in his ardent “fuck you” to any and all rules, that is the key to his appeal. He puts on the best show, in the estimation of his select, particular fans. It's also the fact that he is apparently not putting on a show, in the show-biz, commercial sense, but that he is soul-level serious about his “mission” to destroy all rules, all fashion, in rock'n'roll music – and in his life. Nothing will be denied him, and he can and will do anything he wants, and nobody will tell him otherwise – and he will never stop this rebellion. Certainly seems like an appealing life, to some, and fans cheer him on in that endeavor – even years after his ignominious death.

One of the most outstanding traits that GG Allin possessed was his ability to turn a negative into a positive, by a magical twist in perception – his own perception, and in many cases, that of those around him, as well. If an obstacle or unfortunate circumstance arose, and was unavoidable, instead of complaining about it or fighting it, GG would find a way to make it work for him. His whole life, it seems, was an ongoing cycle of unfortunate circumstances, which GG did his best to turn into positives., to use – somehow – as steppingstones. He refused to be beaten – this one thing can truly be said of him. Even if he was beaten, his way of viewing it would never allow for that, and those who idolize him will take his view. GG was never beaten, never took no for an answer, never took shit from anyone, but lived “his way” every second of his life. So goes the deifying legend.

GG could not have been any different from the way GG was. This is true of you and me, as well. We do stuff we do 'cause that's what we do. It's largely based in both genetics and environment, with personal variables thrown in for spontaneity's sake. {“Personal variables” - eg., twins brought up in the same environment, may have sharply varied personalities, tastes, perspectives, etc..} You can't help being who you are, and attempts to alter ourselves from our natural inclinations can only lead to confusion – for there's only one of us, and we're it.

GG was unusual. This is what makes him fascinating, to many. You don't see many cases of a person like this. In fact, most of us can't think of any other case like this. The things that he was driven to do were somewhat unusual, but the fact that he was a rock'n'rolling lunatic along these lines, the fact that he delighted in and succeeded in exhibiting his unusual behavior onstage, with an audience, while a band accompanied him, was just too remarkable to not pay some attention to. Again, it's the spectacle of GG Allin, and people's fascination with that mind-boggling oddity, the very edgy freak show, that continues to gain GG Allin the attention of many people, the world over.

I'm just going to jump to my conclusion here, and continue to elaborate on it afterwards: GG was a sick, twisted, out-of-control sociopath, most destructive to himself but savagely destructive to others as well, were they unfortunate enough or foolish enough to be in his presence. He was – during the majority of his adulthood – an extreme drunk, a coke-head, a speed freak and a junkie, whose drug and alcohol consumption led to extremes in behavior, as it does for even the most garden-variety drunk & drug addict. He was wildly maladjusted, psychologically and emotionally. Causes of such maladjustments are not hard to find, given what was apparently his upbringing.

GG, within his own limitations, tried to conform, but could not. He has said something about “no matter what I did”, he just “did not fit in”. He was driven to be an outcast, at least in his own perception, by the majority, who indeed were not like him in most regards; so, again, given his savage upbringing. GG couldn't help being GG. In his real attempts to “get along”, he even agreed to see a psychiatrist, during his marriage, when he was in his mid-20s. The doctor he saw may well have been a simpleton, but in any case, GG was simply angered by the “shrink”, and went away all the more determined to go his own way, no matter what anyone else thought. Again, had he a choice? No; yet he knew how to take a negative and turn it into what he could call a positive. He decided to celebrate being GG Allin, Out Of Control, Unmanageable & Ever-Outcast, to be proud of this status, as though he had chosen it out of sheer courage! I dare say that many of his fans believe this of him; they believe that he could have conformed like anyone else, but that he refused, out of sheer, willful courage, to do so. This will be part of his myth.

When I first met GG Allin in March of 1980, he and the Jabbers {his first well-known band} had just played a couple of sets in the bar of the hotel in which GG & the band were staying. They had played the previous night, as well. At least one of the rooms they occupied, the one in which everyone was hanging around between and now after the band's sets, was covered in crude graffiti and drawings all over the walls – the work of the band, and of some of the small crowd hanging around with them. One young woman with some serious artistic talent, had drawn a life-sized nude woman on one wall, but other than that, it was all quite crude and rude, and very pervasive. The room was effectively trashed. This was all good fun, as long as they didn't get caught at it, before checking out of the hotel, the following morning. There was no alcohol, no drugs in the room, nor in GG or the Jabbers' system. My friend, who drove me there that night, had some acid, and he and I were doing that, but GG & the Jabbers were always straight when they played, and nobody had any bad habit at this point in time, nor any money. So, this was “pure GG”, un-drugged, sober, young and not yet well-known.

[Cont.'d from this point on 12/12/15:] Suddenly, we were informed that the manager of the venue and the hotel was on his way – in fact, now coming up the hallway, and about to arrive. There was a panicked moment of scurrying around, everyone's eyes got big, in an “Oh, no!” terror. Nobody had expected that any “authority figure” would see the trashed room until after the perpetrators had left – yet here he was, The Man who ran the place. Believe me, GG was as seized with instant fear as anyone else. He didn't want to get caught or have to be in a confrontational situation any more than did anyone else. Though it may be hard for some people to believe, GG Allin by natural temperament did not enjoy confrontation, personally. If he were hiding behind some sort of facade, or drugged-out fog, sure – if it was rather unavoidable, he'd do confrontation, and even brag about it later. However, it was not his thing, at all. He wouldn't tell anyone anything they didn't want to hear, as a rule. If someone tried out for his band, and he knew immediately that he didn't want them, he would simply say, “Okay, we'll be giving you a call,” or something to that effect, just so he wouldn't have to be direct.

So, here came the manager, and it was clearly not what GG wanted, but it was an unavoidable situation. I was standing right next to him, and I saw an instant change occur in GG, as soon as he popped his head out the door and saw the manager headed our way. GG stepped back into the room for just a second, took a breath, and then stepped back into the hallway, to greet the manager. “Heyyyy,” he enthused, “How ya doing!” He put his arm around him, slapping him jovially on the back, and led him into the room as though showing him into his presidential palace, with a wide grin.

“What is this?” was the inevitable reaction from the manager, “Graffiti on the walls?!” He spoke in a heavy British accent, being a 40-yr.-old hippie type from England. He looked around in some horror, taking in the scene.

“Sure,” GG told him, “From now on, you can charge double for this room, 'cause we'll be famous! Everybody's gonna wanna stay here!” He was selling it already.

“I don't know....” the man responded, looking now at me, trying to gauge whether to fall for this or not. I just looked back at him evenly, quite amazed myself at the unfolding scene.

Soon, the manager {I wish I remembered his name, but don't} just let it go, and sat down, pulled out an ounce of weed, and started rolling joints. From there, the party really got started.

My point is this: GG Allin was a master at making the best of a bad situation. When something was going on that he would rather not deal with, he refused to let it get him down. Instead, he would act as though this was what he had chosen, himself. He wasn't going to belly-ache about anything, even if it was something he personally wished wasn't there.

GG had a terrible problem with alcohol, cocaine and heroin. It certainly and obviously affected his behavior, and effectively ruined his life. He also had the worst case of self-destructiveness that most of us have ever seen or heard about. These were not attributes – they were problems. They were his “demons” - not his qualities; not his gifts. They were what destroyed him, ruined his relationships, and made a shambles of his life. It was not his way to bemoan these facts; it was his way to act as though he didn't care, and to even celebrate those very things which destroyed him. He would never let anyone see a sign of weakness in himself – even when that weakness may have been a huge, gaping chasm.

When I spoke with GG the last time on the telephone, September of 1992, he had recently gotten out of jail {again}, and was telling me that his most recent concerts had been sheer chaos, “as bad as” they had been a few years earlier. He said this was because he had been drinking two fifths of whiskey a day, and shooting cocaine as well. {He didn't mention heroin.} He was telling me that he had been out of control, to a degree that he did not enjoy or want to go back to. He heaved a big, heavy, extremely weary sigh, that actually said more than his words could. He was not enjoying how fucked up he was.

     I say all that, to say this: GG Allin was not a person to emulate or even celebrate, regarding how messed up he was. He was – to those very few who truly cared about this person – a sad, pathetic figure. He wasn't the way he was because that's how he wanted to be; he was the way he was because he couldn't help being the way he was, and he made the best of what he was stuck with. If you don't get completely screwed up on drugs and self-destructive behavior, you would be someone that GG Allin would basically admire. He didn't do what he did because he thought that was the desirable thing to do. He did it because for him, it was absolutely unavoidable. He did say more than once, that what he did was not what he would recommend for anyone else. He is not someone to be envied, idolized or admired. Those who really loved him see his life as a very sad tragedy.  

Thoughts On GG Allin by Jim Danger {Was GG To Be Admired?}

Re-Posting this 2015 article, so it's easier for people to find.

Notes on GG Allin & the Jabbers, From My Experience With Them by Jim Danger 

     My main thought on the Jabbers is that they were better than they dared to be, without GG Allin.     

     Maybe they were all too polite, I don't know, or just lacked the vision. I thought they were so great, even without GG Allin, but then that was a rare and unique lineup, of Rob Basso on lead, Alan Chapple on bass, and John Fortin on rhythm – whomever their drummer turned out to be, had those three continued together – but that's all imaginative and retrospective speculation.

     What disappointed me about the Jabbers from when I first heard, around the year 2001, that they still existed & were playing, was their lack of band identity as A BAND in their own right, without the throw-back connection to GG Allin, who has essentially brought them their only fame, and remains their main claim to same – now over three decades since they played with him, and over two decades since his death. I'm disappointed that they took such embarrassingly disrespectful treatment from him, and basically kept their mouths shut about it. They showed no spine or self-respect, let alone the “balls” befitting a serious punk rock band. For them to – years after his death, and amid his lasting, rising fame – feign great personal regard for him, and some kind of kinship, is, to me, shockingly disingenuous.

     The Jabbers' rage and hostility toward GG Allin {I speak now of Rob Basso and Alan Chapple} are barely concealed beneath a flimsy veneer. They are torn, it seems, between loudly rejecting GG as a total asshole for what he did to them, and, on the other hand, paying GG sufficient lip service to go on with the pretentious boast that he was one of them, and they a key part of the whole GG story. If they seriously blow their cover and admit to the bitterness and anger they still feel toward GG, then they presumably forfeit their right to ride in the hot-air balloon of GG's fame. As long as they perpetuate the idea that they are proud of their association with a beloved, kindred musician, who they still admire and love, then they get to remain in the bubble of GG's fame and glory. Press them on the matter, though, privately, and they will readily unmask, and display their seething contempt for the person of GG Allin, who used them villainously for his own gain and went on to “glory” {if you can call it that} while they – went nowhere, remaining forevermore stuck in the shit-stains of GG's storied past.

     GG did not become really well known until years after his actual association with the Jabbers was over. This is what irks them so. First of all, they sting from the ringing explosion of their violently traumatic break from GG, in the mid-'80s. He was like a morphing monster who rose up from their band, knifed them in the back, cut their Achilles' heels, and then rapidly went into out-of-control-beast mode, leaving them not only used, but broken, dazed and, it turns out, permanently devastated. I think it was too much for their senses, for their very organic beings and entity, to process logically or viscerally. I think he basically did the Jabbers permanent brain damage.

     Listen to them now, in their confused, conflicted explanations, justifications and attempted exonerations, regarding their self-perpetuated connection with GG Allin. They veer sharply, almost drunkenly, between minimizing GG's importance to the Jabbers on the one hand, to actually over-inflating his role in their existence, on the other. Depending on the focus of the conversation, they {again, I speak of Rob and Alan, who were the main crew on board when the “GG Allin & The Jabbers” ship first hit the rocks, in the summer of 1980} will either pay homage to their famous mate, and raise the GG Allin flag high {and salute it, on their knees}, or they will seethingly rip him to shreds for his ill use of them, and his vile crimes against them.

     What happened was, there was this band called the Jabbers, and GG became a part of them. They were excellent, as a five-person unit {Al Chapple on bass, Rob Basso on lead guitar, John Fortin on rhythm guitar, various, temporary drummers, and GG on vocals, playing the frontman}.

     Alan Chapple maintains – at times, and, “for the umpteenth time” - that it was merely a five-person band called The Jabbers, and GG was merely one-fifth of that unit, “nothing more or less”. {Sorta like John Fogerty being merely one member of CCR, or Jim Morrison just one member of the Doors.} He further insists – again, at times, that the band's name was, “just the Jabbers, it was always just the Jabbers. Only in GG's mind was it ever anything else.” This is where a break from reality first appears, as regarding the viewpoint of Alan Chapple, original and founding Jabber par excellence. {Alan is a serious, remarkably able musician, with a very cool persona, and with enormous talent and potential in his own right.}

     I first encountered the Jabbers via a telephone call from GG Allin in early March, 1980. He told me that the band was called, “GG Allin & The Jabbers”. They were gigging as “GG Allin & The Jabbers”. They had radio airplay as “GG Allin & The Jabbers”. Their records, two 45-rpm singles, were labeled, “GG Allin & The Jabbers”. {In point of fact, in the year 2015, they are STILL promoting themselves with “GG ALLIN & The Jabbers” merchandise!} When I started driving them around, I spray-painted the side of my van, “GG Allin & The Jabbers – the Worst of punk!”

It was always GG Allin & the Jabbers – though maybe not in Al's mind. {It was very clear too, at all times, that GG was in charge, he called the shots, made the major decisions, was their leader.} On that LP, however, recorded before summer officially began in 1980, it wasn't even the Jabbers at all, but simply, and very pointedly, “GG Allin”! For that little bit of skullduggery on GG's part, Alan claims he wanted to kick GG's ass – to beat the shit out of him. Instead, Al had little stickers made, that said the Jabbers name, which he attached to the records he was able to alter in this manner. Then GG had bright, hot-pink buttons made, with black block letters saying, “GG ALLIN”, which he distributed liberally, of course right in the Jabbers' faces, even when they were all together. If it was “always just the Jabbers, except in GG's mind,” then I must say GG's mind was way better known that was “always was”!

     So now, a line had been drawn, crossed, and a gauntlet thrown down by GG, vs. the Jabbers. He was taking over, he HAD taken over, and if they wanted to continue this ride toward stardom, they would do so as his underlings, his dogs on his leash. They muttered fire under their breath, but continued with him. Respect had been lost, all the way around, however. They now had a love-hate for GG – loving the potential stardom they stood to gain with him, and now, suddenly and basically, hating his rotten ways, and regarding him with personal animosity, feeling betrayed and deeply injured by him. He was still lots of fun to be with, and it was usually difficult to feel real hatred for him while enjoying the light of his humor and charisma, yet deep resentment had set in.

     Planning preemptively for both Rob and Al to leave him for what he'd done to them with the album project {basically, using them to make his own album, which had been a collaborative effort of the entire band, financed by Rob Basso, chiefly, and a project that the entire band had pretty much lived for}, GG immediately began seeking a new band. He was planning to keep John Fortin on as guitarist, even the only guitarist, for he felt that John's energy and rock-solid rhythm didn't need a lead player's help, at least for the time being. Being so young {16 by then, I think}, he was not so much involved in or aware of the dirty tricks GG had pulled on Rob and Al, and he was easily led. I was to be the drummer, as my right hand was now healed, having been in a cast for the previous several months. I drove us around in search of a bass player. GG was brainstorming names for his new band, since the Jabbers would be gone {though he was always after me to change my name to Jim Jabber – for yeats!}. He was already mentioning the name, “The Scumfucks”, by late June/early July of 1980. He also really liked, “GG Allin & the Whoremasters”. {Whatever the name, it was always “GG Allin and the - “}

     So, just as soon as that LP was out, GG was already planning for life after the Jabbers, and had all but ruled out any further association with them. Why? I think it was – in a perverse way – a gentleman's understanding that once a gentleman fucks over another gentleman, then said fucked-over party will no longer consider the fuck-er to be in his good graces, or have further dealings with him. It is my honest opinion that GG had more respect for the Jabbers than they had for themselves. He expected that they would no longer be willing to go along with his plans for personal glory, now that he'd essentially cut their balls open. To his surprise, instead of healing their wounded balls and going on as a band in their own right, they instead discarded their balls, and limped along with him, without them. Sadly, even though they would part ways with him anyway and forever within a few short years, their balls were gone forever.

     In the year 2015, Alan Chapple is insisting, “for the umpteenth time”, that “it was always just the Jabbers,” and that “GG Allin was just one-fifth of the band, no more, no less.” It's very hard to understand how he's thinking, here; how he's justifying his representation of reality, in light of actual reality, of which he yet remains fully aware. It's hard to understand, and I don't get it. In fact, I just don't believe it. I still think the only reasonable conclusion is that he does hate what GG did, did hate what GG did, yet to this day, as in the summer of 1980, Alan would rather eat GG's shit and remain on his train, than to stand up for himself and bid final adieu to GG Allin, Star. The smell and the glimmer of GG's star power is apparently worth permanently surrendering one's balls, to stay as close to as possible.

     It could be that GG Allin broke the hearts of Jabbers Basso and Chapple, while also de-spining them {and perhaps they'd never possessed spine or testicles to begin with}. I know that Alan has expressed that making the LP was something that they'd looked forward to and had as a goal “all our lives”. Al had even forced himself to make it to the studio for the recording sessions, in spite of being so very ill that he vomited between each track he played. He willed himself there, to participate in this monumentally significant event, to which, as he said, his whole life had been leading, guided by rock'n'roll dreams, propelled by much work and sweat. The fact that it turned out to be not the realization of a dream but rather of a nightmare due to having GG essentially steal it from the Jabbers, would be heartbreaking. The Jabbers' anger was largely a manifestation of their pain, of their bitter disappointment, and disillusionment, brought on by this conniving, self-aggrandizing cutthroat, GG Allin.

     Rob Basso, sensitive soul that he is, was also seemingly heartbroken by the bursting of the bubble that, up to the time of the album's pressing, had seemed to be whisking them toward a true bid for Stardom. His personal experience with GG was particularly injurious and traumatic. It was Rob who did more than anyone else in the way of devoting his meager income to the band, including not only coming up with needed petty cash for gas, tolls, etc., on a regular basis, but he also funded getting the LP made! {He did confront GG with the threat of a lawsuit.} Rob had an excellent title in mind for the album: “Insult & Injury”. How apt, in a terribly rueful way, this turned out to be; GG did both to the Jabbers.

     There were to be, according to the expressed plans of the group, photos of all band-members, and of course, the Jabbers name at least prominently placed with that of GG Allin, on the album cover – which would, of course, feature a group photo of the band. There was also to be an insert or sleeve included, with many band photos, of the group and of individuals. Two songs written and sung by Rob were recorded for inclusion on the album, and one of Al Chapple's, which he sang, as well. This was the album Rob was smilingly assured, by GG, that he was paying for. What he and the rest of the group got, is now history. GG's face alone on the cover, GG's face alone on the back cover as well. “GG Allin” was the artist, with no mention of the Jabbers name. The title was – to everyone but GG's incredulous surprise, “Is, Was & Always Shall Be”. Now GG was God!

     Rob had tried to stand up to GG before, he'd tested his power before, and been overruled. Now, however, this album betrayal was the final straw, and Rob went in a heated wave of outraged momentum to GG's door, to put his foot down. GG just put Rob's foot up Rob's ass and broke it off at the knee, essentially. Rob was pretty much sick over the whole thing. All of his life's ambition to make it big in rock'n'roll had been leading up to this as well, just as Chapple has expressed. Now, he was not only fucked over morally, but financially as well. When the rift between Rob and GG finally came to its ultimate head much later, GG beat the shit out of Rob, leaving him completely bereft and by the wayside.
     Rob, as I said, is a sensitive soul, and likes to see the good in people and things. He's enthusiastic and the biggest fan and supporter of rock'n'roll in general, that there is. For him, with all of his hopes, good intentions, enthusiasm and financial support, to have been so thoroughly degraded and backstabbed by GG, even to the point of being physically beaten up on top of it all and at the end of his association with GG, has understandably left Rob very shaken up, to this day more than three decades later. He remains in a shatter of conflicted and contradictory thoughts and feelings regarding his association with GG Allin. The impossible contradictions he calls “dualism” – misapplying the term in another band-aid attempt to patch up the permanently broken and unresolved.

     Rob, to me, always seemed content to be an honored guest in GG's shadow. It wasn't hard to see that he much looked up to GG, and regarded him with as much a sense of awe as did anyone else. He most certainly regarded GG as the leader of the group, morally if not officially. It made an impression on me early in my association with GG & the Jabbers, when I made a casual, unscheduled visit to Manchester to see them, and met up with Rob, who explained that GG was out of town, and there were no band activities going on that weekend. I shrugged okay and after hanging out for just a little while, began to depart back to Kittery {Maine}, where I lived, about an hour away. “I'll tell the Geege you were here,” said Rob, in a tone that brought to mind an underling referring to his boss, or a deacon referring to the Minister. I didn't particularly care whether GG knew I'd come by or not. He just wasn't there when I came through, no big deal, so I'd go home and be back another time soon, when we'd probably be doing something in the line of band business. {I was drummer-in-waiting at the time, with my injured right hand in a cast, but happy to drive the band around in the van I'd bought for drum-toting purposes when I'd first met them.} I felt it entirely unnecessary and ringingly telling, that Rob had swellingly announced that he'd report my visit to “the Geege.” {The year was 1980, remember – even before the advent of “the Donald”, et al.}This indicated to me Rob's own perception of his relationship with GG. Rather than seeing himself as comrade in arms with GG, shoulder to shoulder as mates, he was a trumpeteer, blowing a fanfare to the King, and genuflecting as well, while he was at it. He was basking in GG's presence and energy, nearly always, at that early period of March/April of 1980, grinning and enthusiastically cheerful. He seemed to be truly living his dream – and he'd earned it, in spades. He was incredibly hard-working, playing like a madman at the end of a livewire, an awesome and intensely dynamic showman as well; yet he wasn't particularly trying to be a showman, as far as I could tell. Having observed him not only onstage but in practice sessions and even playing air-guitar to a record in the room where he lived, Rob's way of getting into playing his guitar was to s jump around – a lot. If there was room, he'd charge, jump, spring, stagger and otherwise jackrabbit around in a manner so over-the-top energized as to be, by turn, amazing, alarming, mesmerizing and menacing. {He used to say, “Play every gig like it's Shea Stadium, and someday it will be.” I never forgot this – and at the time, I believed he might just be right.} As the lead guitarist in a rock'n'roll band, and in this band in particular, Rob was unabashedly Great - First Class. His stage presence was fantastic, even rivaling GG's own. {Much the same could be said of Alan Chapple, who possessed comparable star quality.} His conversational, social manner was engaging, animated, rather polite and genteel – and he was, and of course remains, exceptionally knowledgable. He was nerdish. Most of the time when Rob wasn't playing, he was reading – voraciously. Rock'n'roll reading. Rock magazines, rock papers, rock trivia, rock info, rock history, anything and everything to do with – well, basically, with Music, though of course rock'n'roll music in particular. GG and Al as well were very knowledgeable, and GG read a lot, too, but Rob just burned pages up, reading, reading, reading, always with complete involvement – with relish. He loved the world of rock'n'roll so much, and was thoroughly delighted to be living in it. He had “found his bliss”, was fulfilled and brimming with readiness for what appeared to be a seriously bright future. GG Allin brought that hope to within breathing, touching distance. GG provided and instilled the confident assurance that this band was going to “make it big”, and with GG at the helm and at the microphone, and with GG almost constantly uttering positive affirmations of their certain success, it was very, very easy to believe that all rock'n'roll dreams were coming true – and the best was yet to come. They were right at the brink!

     Then – WHAMMO. Dishonored, betrayed, double-crossed and eviscerated by GG Allin himself, who then stood defying anyone to do anything about the fact that he was willing to dump them all, for his own, personal, individual, promotion toward Greatness. Whammo, indeed.

     It was easy to believe the dream, while looking at, listening to and being around GG Allin & the Jabbers, in early-to-mid 1980. Being caught up in the spell, the charisma of GG Allin, being in his presence when he was “on” - “on” like a lightbulb, which was usually – it was easy to see him as the vehicle for carrying one to The Heights – to rock'n'roll glory. I too was in that spell, bathed in GG's charisma, and a true believer in this band, when the lineup was as it was in the spring of 1980. I too was fully committed to this band and my future in it, my future behind and beside GG Allin. I was to be the drummer, as soon as my hand healed from being crushed in a machine just a few days before I was to rehearse with them for the first time. Then I was their driver and member of the “grouup”, though not officially of the band, of course, with my hand in a cast and having yet to play with them. During the months with my hand in the cast, being with GG & the Jabbers every time they got together and did anything {even going to the movies, to see “Animal House”, smoking dope in the Manchester movie theater balcony seats}, I got to know them all quite well, and was certainly in on the group mentality, the band's vision as a unit. For four solid months at a very key period in this band's trajectory, I was present every time the band members got together, and heard virtually every word spoken among them from March to July, which included all recording sessions for the LP.

GG & I hit it off to a greater extent than as “just” bandmates, which in itself implies a significant degree of closeness. He and I very rapidly got to be side-by-side cohorts. We definitely “clicked” {even “cliqued”}, and I think both Rob and Al were taken by surprise at how GG embraced me as a real co-conspirator, a partner, a bird-of-a-feather, within just a few weeks. GG & I were “bonded”, sometimes seemingly wired from the same circuit. This really hit home and became evident to him and me when I was driving the band to CBGB, on that long, long trip. We were on a stretch of the interstate, and nothing had been said for a while, just driving and riding, on and on, and all was quiet except for the sound of engine, tires and wind. We were approaching an underpass, and I noticed a teenage boy standing on the overpass, gazing down at the traffic of which we were a part. Cruising along at 60 or so, we were getting closer to that overpass, to that kid who was going to be looking down at us, as we passed beneath him. None of us were talking, everyone in their own headspace. On an impulse, at the moment we'd be right where this kid would be looking at us, my hand went up to flash the kid my middle finger – you know, if the kid was gonna be looking, let's give him something to see; just a spontaneous, momentary impulse. At the very moment my hand went up with the bird, GG's hand also went up in the same gesture, at the same instant, as in a mirror. We both flipped the kid off, as with one mind – by no prior consultation, yet with military precision. Simultaneity. We looked at each other instantly, our eyes locked in mutual surprise – and recognition. We were a pair. I'd seen that look – the look of recognition of a kindred – in GG's eyes before, though in a meditative state rather than one of surprise, the 2^nd time we met.

     This was in Portland, Maine, in mid-March of 1980, in a small and shabby, ice-cold room in a skid-row hotel above the Downtown Lounge, I think it was called, where the Jabbers had just played two sets, and there was a kind of party going on, including the manager of the hotel and lounge. I was seated, as everyone was at the moment, in conversation with someone to my left. While in conversation {and on acid}, I sensed, I suppose, that I was being looked at, being regarded. I looked immediately across the room, and there sat GG, his eyes gazing intently and directly into mine. As though caught in an embarrassing act, he quickly looked away, moving his eyes off to his left. It was too real, too intense and penetrating a gaze to maintain in the witness of its subject. I got it very clearly, though, that something had just “clicked” between us; I felt an inner tampering – a connection had been made, and it was received on my end. This was a Moment – noticed, appreciated and never forgotten. I think of it especially when I see the cover photo of the “Is, Was and Always Shall Be” LP. He's gazing into the camera just the way he was gazing into me that night: being God – inside a troubled, brooding, plotting and often guffawing young man. A brilliant, maladjusted and shrewd miscreant. An angry child sworn to vengeance on the world that produced him, and that produced such a sharp contrast between the haves and have-nots, the fulfilled and the brutally bereft. All of that, though – or much of any serious thought at all in GG – was hidden away from those who knew him, at the time. All he'd reveal now was a drive to rock'n'roll stardom – and he had some good momentum going. He was also harboring plans already – dark and dirty, Machiavellian plans for how to Get What He Wanted, no matter who he had to use, or how ill he had to abuse them in the process of following his own personal destiny.

     As for me, I was just getting to know GG, increasingly from March to early July, 1980, and was not in on either his secret plot regarding the LP, or his lack of any abiding regard for members of the Jabbers, that would enable him to bury a hatchet in their backs without remorse. This side of GG, nobody was seeing, in March or April or May of 1980.

     I personally “lost the vision” of sticking with GG and whatever band he was going to wind up with, if any, by the first of July, 1980. The LP fiasco had happened, hard feelings and enmities had developed, and now GG was planning to go back to square 1, and build a whole new band – with the LP now under his belt. I thought it was all over – and for GG Allin & the Jabbers, for the most part it really was, by then. I decided to break away now, and drove to Manchester {New Hampshire} from Kittery {Maine} – about a 55, 60-minute drive, to tell GG so in person.

     There was a street fair, an annual festival, going on in Manchester that day, and I found GG with Linda McDonnell, Rob and Al, on the loose on the main street, among the throng of thousands. GG had a pint of whisky in his back pocket, and had clearly been enjoying some of that. He was even more exuberantly animated and extroverted than usual. He and Linda had been competing to see whether she could pick up more guys than he could girls. GG laughingly explained how he'd say to a strange woman, “Hi! Remember me? We went to school together, don't you remember?” and start hitting on them from there. I told him I needed to speak to him “alone”, and he threw his arm around me as though we were going on a date, and said loudly for his entourage's entertainment, “Well, sure, come right this way, big boy!” as though he had the hots for me {which I think he really did}.

We got a few yards away from Rob and Al and Linda, and I just told him that I was “out”, though it was still in his plans for me to be his drummer, whenever things came together again, and if they did. I don't remember what I said, except that I told him I was out. Really, I was tired of waiting around. After being with GG & the Jabbers for months, while my hand had been in a cast, I wanted to play – Now! My hand had been out of its cast for weeks now, Rob had personally checked out my playing ability first, then I did two or three practice sessions with GG and the full band, and I had also played in the studio on an uptempo recording of “I Wanna Be Your Dog”, that was done at North Country Sounds in Auburn, after the LP songs had been recorded. {I was thus the first drummer to record with GG, who had done all of his own drumming on recordings, previously – except for Bob MacKenzie's drumming on his own song, “Don't Talk To Me”. It was, however, my drums GG played on the LP recordings, as I recall.} GG had already told me, privately, concerning my being the new drummer, “If you want it, you've got it.” {He knew I might not want it, given the inner band turmoil that was brewing by then.} Now I was raring to go, and get on that stage with these guys – with some guys – any guys! I didn't see GG going anywhere at just that time, so I told him I was out, and though we remained friends, that was it. I do recall doing something with him the following year, I think I actually rehearsed with him for a gig that never happened, or something, on a fill-in basis – I hazily recall doing, “You Hate Me & I Hate You” & “Gimme Some Head” with him – but by then, 1981, I was doing such a profusion of drugs and alcohol myself, that I don't remember much. I think my van got towed away, & I got stuck in town overnight, or something like that.

     From that point on in my life, as a musician, I never looked back, never thought about ever playing with GG again. I'd learned from him, and I'd been befriended by him. For the next three years, sometimes the phone would ring and it would be him. There was no caller-ID yet in those days, so it was always a surprise, and sometimes he'd disguise his voice and begin a false conversation, before cracking up and revealing his true identity. One time I was alone at home about to eat something, and had the TV tuned in for the Andy Griffith Show, which was justs coming on when the phone rang. When I answered, the caller started whistling along with the Andy Griffith theme, before breaking up laughing. I must be one of the few who can say I heard GG Allin whistle the Andy Griffith theme song.

     We eventually got into some pretty serious conversations on the phone, especially from '81 – '83. When I got into witchcraft, circa '81, which really seemed to be “going around”, “in the air”, in those days, I recall asking GG if he'd yet had contact with witchcraft people. I was into it pretty heavily by then, and I knew he would be in contact with someone from the witch world, too. He was kinda surprised that I would ask, as it was a coincidence. Yes, he said, in fact recently he'd been contacted by some witches, and “they seemed pretty cool”, he said, but he was undecided on what to make of them. I gave them my full endorsement, seriously advising him to listen to them – and I know I had an influence on him, in that regard.

     GG didn't take a lot of suggestions or advice from many people, but he did take my counsel seriously. He was also open to using an idea I gave him once, before a gig. We were in Boston, on the North End, around April/May 1980, for a gig at a place called Cantone's {which he mentions in his “autobiography”, though his account there is wildly exaggerated, if he's referring to the same gig – which was wild.} We had pulled into town, and I think the band was all set up, when we all walked to a corner store so they could get some snacks, having not eaten. GG chose a cherry pie. When I saw the cherry pie, I thought of his song, “Cheri Love Affair”, and the actual Cheri magazine he always salaciously displayed while he sang it. I suggested to him that he take the pie out of the wrapper and put it inside the Cheri magazine, then when he's going through the porno magazine onstage, he could pretend to go down on a model in the mag, and come up with cherry filling all over his face. Though he was hungry, he saved the cherry pie and did exactly as I'd suggested – and it was a great effect.

There was also a packet-of-firecrackers grand finale at the end of the Jabbers' set, that was my idea. On their last song {“I Got A Right”, an Iggy Pop cover} when all hell broke loose and they were thrashing and knocking stuff around, I would toss an entire packet of firecrackers onto the stage, and it had an excellent effect, smoky and chaotic.

     When I endorsed the witches he listened, too.

     The fact is that after my first meeting GG & the Jabbers in March, within a month or two I had become so close to GG that there was some jealousy arising, particularly from Rob Basso, who then considered me an interloper, and he was the jealous rival. There was no way, with his personality, that Rob was ever going to be as close to GG as he would like to have been. GG's mind had a certain-shaped lock to it, and if yours wasn't the right shape, you weren't getting in – and Rob's just wasn't, which in some ways is certainly to his credit. He just wasn't as warped, twisted and inwardly hurt as were people like GG – and I. GG knew I was a kindred when we first met, as described in that gaze he'd fixed on me in Portland; he knew. Rob was a misfit in combing his hair just so, on getting out of the van after trips, as opposed to GG {and me}, who laughed, “I'm making sure my hair's messed up!” Al sometimes mimicked and mocked Rob's anal-retentive manner, always checking his pocket to make sure he had his key {to his room}, etc.. The only real mocking of Rob that I personally did, was at a point when he was no longer a part of the Jabbers around late June, early July of 1980, when I sang a line of his song, “Death Child”, with my own lyrics. His line was, “Been a death child since I left the womb!” and my line was, “Been so happy since Rob left the band!”

     GG and I began to compete in acts of craziness, and eventually we were privately, between the two of us, discussing some very dark ideas, as only two like-minded lunatics can concoct and execute together. Death on stage, following mass murder of the audience, that kind of thing. We really were a major danger, together. It's definitely for the best that we parted after bonding, because if we hadn't, as I've said before, both he and I would have been dead within a year.

     I know that GG knew and understood that I had my own thing to do, and he always encouraged me to get my own band together. {I did have my own band by 1984, but he was unaware of this, as we were lost to each other by then, out of contact. So, when I mentioned to him in '92 that I had a band – again – he said, gladly, “Well, it's about time.”} He knew that we were each too intense to even need to be together. He wrote to me in '82 or '83, “We should do a gig together sometime, just you and me. Do you think the world is ready?” {It wasn't!} When GG came out with his song, “Hangin' Out With Jim” a few years later, I must have become even more envied. He'd never written a friend song before. I recall Sandy [GG's wife] once asking why he didn't do any love songs. GG laughingly said, “I can't really see us doing a love song,” as though the thought was absurd. “Hangin' Out With Jim” is pretty fuckin' close to it, though. It was pretty obvious to me when I first saw the title on a tape I bought {“Antisocial Personality Disorder”} and when I listened to it, that I'm the Jim he had in mind. Rob Basso told me in 2001, “I always thought that song was about you.” I think he told me about it on the phone when I last spoke with him in September of '92, but I'm not sure, because at the time my only thoughts were desperately focused on trying to save his life. On the “Antisocial Personality Disorder” version of this song, it sounds like he mentions, “riding on a death-ship”, which would definitely be the van I so wildly drove – which he was still laughing about when I spoke with him last. Had I any doubt that this song was based on me, the matter was settled when, after the song on “Antisocial Personality Disorder” he says the song is “for Jimmy, a little boy that I've wanted for a few years now.” That was recorded in 1987. He's definitely talking about me. Fans of GG have repeatedly said that the song is about Jim Beam whisky. Jim Beam, however, was never a little boy that GG had wanted for a few years. I was. {Coincidentally, when I lived in a brothel in Atlanta in early 2006, there was a hooker there with whom I sometimes hung out, who always called me Jim Beam. “Hey, Jim Beam! Come help me smoke this blunt....”}

     Rob's jealousy of me eventually reached a boiling point, in an incident that GG alluded to in his fanciful “autobiography”.

     A budding rift between Rob and I had initially come to light when I first had a safety pin in my ear. We were at the practice space, and were leaving as a group, I think to go to a movie – somewhere. Rob pulled a power play as we were exiting the door of the practice space, entering the hallway. He had been rather horrified at the sight of my low-budget piercing – though he had an earring in one ear. I think it was just “too real” for him, too stark, and he didn't like the direction it represented. In the hallway, as were all were leaving the practice space, he pulled up short and announced, “I am not going anywhere with him [me] until he takes that thing out of his ear.” This was clearly a power test, with his assumption that I'd lose. GG and Alan looked at Rob like he had three heads. “What??” Rob asserted that the safety pin in the ear was from several years ago, and was no longer tolerable – or something to that effect. It clearly embarrassed him, and as a key member of the Jabbers, he was not going to allow it in the Jabbers' public appearance. His opinion was dismissed as a momentary aggravation, and Rob had to shrink a bit, completely voted out and alone. His gambit had not only failed to work, it also backfired, lowering rather than elevating him – and, as an unintended consequence, reinforced my own “status”, as he would have perceived it. {I, on the other hand, had “won” such a confrontation – with GG directly – when I had refused to drive on to CBGB until Janis Joplin was playing on my van's tape player, after GG kept hitting “eject” on her.}

     My closeness to GG continued to irritate Rob, and he repressed it until it became a seething, burning rage of jealous contempt.
     It was exacerbated when GG unhesitatingly gave me a copy of the just-pressed LP, on the CBGB trip, after he'd signed it, at my suggestion, “I rolled a joint on this album. GG Allin.” He'd done the rolling on it, after I'd scored some weed on the street as we were leaving CBGB for the long drive back to Manchester. Rob was very peevish about me getting the LP free, when everyone else had to pay for it. GG ignored Rob on this, too. Further coals on Rob's pent-up, glowing conflagration.

GG's “autobiographical” account of the rift between Rob and I was practically backwards in comparison with the truth, and certainly fictionalized. GG wrote that he and I, in the band's practice space, were heaping insults and abuse on Rob as he played, and if he objected, we beat on him, something to that effect. As I said, his account, at least in part, is backwards. GG also wrote, “Jim Danger hated Rob, too.” It was, as I've described, more a case of Rob hating me, once I became very close with GG. Not only so, but it was Rob who threatened me, or indicated an eminent attack on me, as follows:

     GG Allin & the Jabbers practice space, 2^nd floor office, rear of building overlooking large parking lot. Al Chapple and Rob – I don't recall whether John Fortin was present or not, but I'm thinking not – were working on a new song. It must have been June now, 1980 – 'cause things were very near an end – at least the end of GG Allin & the Jabbers, Phase 1.

     There were posters on the walls – the Ramones, the Sex Pistols, Patti Smith, the Dead Boys, etc. The Ramones poster was signed by all of the Ramones – GG and the others had gone to see the Ramones several times, I gathered, and had their albums signed by the band – and this wall poster too. GG and another person or two had also signed the poster, and at some point I had briefly decided to call myself Nick Nayme {hadn't thought of Danger yet} and I too signed the poster, “Nicholas Nayme”. Rob was pretty miffed about that, I recall.

     Rob was miffed, all right, and more-so, about a number of things. The LP bombshell had lately struck. Rob had been fucked, as had the others, by GG. Down the drain at the same time was Rob's imagined or hoped-for personal closeness with GG. GG, the charismatic born leader, was a dynamic person who everyone around him wanted to be close to, personally. Not only so, but to Rob, I think, GG represented The Ticket To The Big Time. Accordingly, he was enamored.

     Then I had come along, and very quickly become what certainly appeared to be a fast friend and buddy-cohort, with The Geege.

     At the moment, Rob and Al {and possibly John Fortin, don't recall – probably not, he lived a ways off and didn't drive, got rides to meet us for important stuff} were working on a new song that Al had written, called “Underwear Party”. {“We're going to – an underwear party / Bring the girls – and don't be tardy....”} It sounded pretty sophomoric, if not childish – doesn't it?

     As they were going over it {I still remember it, quite clearly, 35 years later}, GG and I were sitting atop PA speakers that were sitting on the floor, just high enough so that our feet were up off the floor, and were kicking back together, smoking pot out of my small bong. I had this same blue bong with me throughout the time I was with the Jabbers, and was even able to load and light it while driving, with my right hand in a cast. Didn't have it on that CBGB trip, though, which is why I'd had to buy papers on the Lower East Side.} GG and I were laughing at Rob and Al, quite giddily, as we got high and listened to their efforts on this all new song. At the moment, they didn't look like great musicians, and the song wasn't exactly catching fire in front of us. GG's and my laughter got loud, and GG laughingly blurted out “What the fuck kinda fucked up song is that?” and I found this hilarious, as did he. The fact that it was open ridicule, made it all the funnier. His last remark, in fact, GG had directed more at Rob and Al, in a derogatorily heckling way.

     Rob snapped. All of the late frustration in Rob's mind geysered to the surface. He spun, grabbed a mic stand down near its base, and picked it up like a javelin, over his head and pulled it back about to throw the deadly spear - right into my chest. I saw where he was aiming. GG and I both yelled as though our car was about to crash, and scrambled to get out of the way. {Yes, folks, GG Allin was once terrorized by someone wielding a mic stand toward him, before he ever did it to anyone else! Rob can be proud of that, if he likes – I would be!} Rob's eyes were locked on mine, with fury and hatred. He wanted to kill me – he wanted me Gone. Had he fired that javelin, I'd've been a hurtin' bastard – if not dead; but he held his fire. “Jesus Christ!” GG proclaimed.

     In this way, then, I was momentarily the focus of Rob's rage – at GG.

     Almost immediately, GG and I were in my van going around looking to start a whole new band – Rob and Al were out.

     As recounted already, both Rob and Al basically came crawling back to GG {this is my view}, their one shot at rock'n'roll stardom, and since they were at hand, GG used them again. This love was fuckin' gone, though.

     Over the next several years, Rob would do a thing or two with GG – until that violent final parting – and Al would continue playing bass with GG on recordings and at gigs, along with a guitarist GG had met named Chris Lamy, up until around '84, I gather, before they finally split with him for good, one way or another. I wasn't there, so I can't say. Chris tells me that it was the Jabbers who dumped GG, because of his out-of-control onstage behavior. GG wrote the same, in his “autobiography”, so it seems to be so. {I always put GG's “autobiography” in quotation marks, because so much of it is fiction and exaggeration on GG's part – though I'm sure he wrote it, because no one else could have known some of the stuff included.}

     Well, as we all know – as the whole world knows – GG's behavior got increasingly out of control from that point on until his death. So, why do the Jabbers still wish to associate themselves with him?

Rob Basso told me, when I re-connected with him on the internet around 2001, he and GG had a “love/hate relationship”, that they were both very intense personalities, who sometimes clashed. Still, though, he embraces GG – and especially, his own place as a former bandmate of The Legendary GG Allin. With such words, he smooths over the jagged, cutting, tearing, and finally eviscerating edges of what he went through with GG Allin. As I write this, Rob's FaceBook profile photo is of himself, smiling faintly, looking gaunt and rung out, his hand resting on GG's shoulder – and GG looks rather annoyed. Photo from early '80s – and probably just prior to GG's beating the shit out of Rob.

     By turns, Rob speaks lovingly of his old chum GG, or venomously and bitterly denounces him as a treacherous, lying, backstabbing asshole. With the latter, he's telling the truth. With the former, he's still grasping at a dream. Just a couple of weeks ago, he commented that he still has dreams in which he's onstage with GG – over three decades later. Dreams, indeed.

     - Jim Danger, Sept., 2015

There are some articles i've written that are in my Blogs, but to find them you have to scroll down to the bottom of blog page and find 2015 blogs, etc., to find them. Don't know why it's so hard to locate 'em but that's the way it is.
     i know lots of people are interested in GG Allin and i get a lot of questions about him. I wrote two articles about him that are in 2015 blogs. If you can't find 'em let me know.
     By the way, my Email address is jimdangerzone@gmail.com
      Love, Peace and Fun to You!
                  Jim
UPDATE: I just re-posted them, to make them easier to find - but you've probably already seen that by now.

Videos on YouTube

Hi, Friends -
      i've got about 50 videos on YouTube now, mostly originals but also some covers. If you'd like to check 'em out, just go to YouTube and punch in Jim Danger & there i'll be. Subscribe to my channel and you'll have a list of both covers and originals to investigate. I've done quite a few just recently - did 9 in one night, last weekend, all original.
      i've done a couple by Request from friends. A friend in Kathmandu, Nepal, asked me if i'd do Kurt Cobain's, "All Apologies", so i did that, though i never would have considered it otherwise. He'd just been in a horrible motorcycle accident, so i went out of my way to learn it quickly.
      Then a GG Allin fan who found out about me, heard me do something like, "You Were A Hole To Me" {one of my originals, recent video}, and asked me if i'd do GG's song, "Rowdy, Beer Drinkin' Night" in a low, Cash-like vocal, so i practiced that one for a day or two, then did that too. {Soon, i plan to do, "Don't Talk To Me", which is not only a great song, but has a special meaning and connection for me, since i was in the vocal booth with GG when he recorded that one, just him and me. I was sitting on the floor in front of him and he was making faces at me while he read the lyrics and sang it {GG didn't write that one}.
    So, Please check out my YouTube Videos, subscribe to my channel if you will, and i'd appreciate it!
     Anyone can friend me on FaceBook, too, if ya feel like it. I've got a personal page AND a music page there.
      Keep Smilin' - or not, but
          Have Fun & Enjoy Life!
                 Your friend,
                      Jim Danger

Hi, Friends -
      i've got about 50 videos on YouTube now, mostly originals but also some covers. If you'd like to check 'em out, just go to YouTube and punch in Jim Danger & there i'll be. Subscribe to my channel and you'll have a list of both covers and originals to investigate. I've done quite a few just recently - did 9 in one night, last weekend, all original.
      i've done a couple by Request from friends. A friend in Kathmandu, Nepal, asked me if i'd do Kurt Cobain's, "All Apologies", so i did that, though i never would have considered it otherwise. He'd just been in a horrible motorcycle accident, so i went out of my way to learn it quickly.
      Then a GG Allin fan who found out about me, heard me do something like, "You Were A Hole To Me" {one of my originals, recent video}, and asked me if i'd do GG's song, "Rowdy, Beer Drinkin' Night" in a low, Cash-like vocal, so i practiced that one for a day or two, then did that too. {Soon, i plan to do, "Don't Talk To Me", which is not only a great song, but has a special meaning and connection for me, since i was in the vocal booth with GG when he recorded that one, just him and me. I was sitting on the floor in front of him and he was making faces at me while he read the lyrics and sang it {GG didn't write that one}.
    So, Please check out my YouTube Videos, subscribe to my channel if you will, and i'd appreciate it!
     Anyone can friend me on FaceBook, too, if ya feel like it. I've got a personal page AND a music page there.
      Keep Smilin' - or not, but
          Have Fun & Enjoy Life!
                 Your friend,
                      Jim Danger