An open letter to Glenn Danzig
by Nick Selm
Dear Glenn,
I just wanted to let you know how much you mean to me. As a kid, your iconic Misfits' "Crimson Ghost" skull emblem haunted my dreams, even before I had heard a single note of the your music. I knew I was destined to love you but I was always too scared of the staff at Missing Link Records to muster up the courage to ask "What's the best Misfits' record?"
Finally, in high school, I listened. The first time I heard your mournful "Whoaaa" at the beginning of "Astro Zombies," I knew it was true love. The throbbing base and grinding guitar took the New York punk sound of the Ramones to new heights.
But it was your voice that drove me nuts. It sounded so familiar, yet so completely alien. You reminded me, in a way, of Elvis. But not the "Jailhouse Rock" Elvis; you were different. There was something sinister about your crooning. You weren't singing about poodle skirts and sock hops. Your voice had a Lovecraftian quality to it; it seemed like a cry from another world — a netherworld.
As I sank deeper and deeper into your world, I started to hear myths, rumors and legends about you. About why you had disbanded the Misfits. About your role in the early punk movement. About your bizarre personal beliefs. I immersed myself in your mythos and your persona grew larger and more magnificent in my mind.
Always too hung up on the Misfits to pursue your later work in Danzig or Samhain, I had no idea what I was missing. When I finally got around to it, I let the opening riff to "Twist of Cain" seep into my bones and turn my marrow into syrup. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. It sounded nothing like Misfits; it was sharp and crisp and brooding and bold. Each instrument wove intricate webs of blues, metal and rock'n'roll. But again, it was your voice that enslaved my ears to your sound.
As I dug deeper and deeper into the Danzig catalogue, I discovered terrifying, yet beautiful vistas in your musical landscape. On "Sistinas," you turned your twisted mockery of doo-wop into an epic of incorporeal love. On "I'm The One," you belted your sinister manifesto over guttural blasts of nefarious blues. You continue to defy and transcend any pigeon-holing of your sound.
Recently, you have become the target of ridicule in some Internet circles. I just want you to know that I stood by you when the video of you getting punched in the face went viral and I supported you when the photo of you carrying cat litter in a Danzig shirt surfaced on the internet. I even defended your good name as tales of your erratic, prima donna behavior appeared on various punk message boards. I understand that you are a man who knows what he wants and won't do anything else.
When I heard that you were teaming up with your old Misfits' guitarist, Doyle von Frankenstein, for a tour that included material from The Misfits, Samhain and Danzig, I just about lost my mind. Ever since high school when I heard that immortal "Whoa," I had dreamed of seeing you perform Misfits' material. I am so happy that you are going to grace Indianapolis with your music this week. I've been waiting most of my life for this. I'll be the guy in the black shirt, singing along to every song. You'll see.
Yours forever,
Nick Selm
Related Locations
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Egyptian Room at Old National Centre
- 502 North New Jersey St, Indianapolis Mass Ave Indiana 46204
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317-231-0000
- www.oldnationalcentre.com
- (based on 3 user reviews)
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