Monday, August 17, 2009

Interview: Bryan Jackson

posted by Free Press Houston @ 12:26 PM


by Omar Afra
Photo by Craig Hlavaty
Bastardization by Shelby Hohl


I heard the name Bryan Jackson attached to controversy 1000 times before briefly meeting him a couple of weeks ago at Avant Garden. Whether it was stealing comedian Jacob Calle’s record collection and returning it, stealing B L A C K I E’s tour money and returning it, or stealing Jay Merrit’s bike and returning it, Jackson is always surrounded by some new, interesting shit-storm. However, despite his antics, he is not merely another scum-fuck prankster without any talents. Jackson sings for Black Congress and they are on the verge of releasing a stellar 7-inch record loaded with grimy but calculated sludge. I managed to get him to answer a few questions and it has yielded a splendid bounty of venom, trash talk, and talk of defecating in pool tables.

Who has arrived here today: The folksy, friendly Bryan Jackson or the infamous Sith-Lord? Is the Sith-Lord merely a marketing platform for the nice guy or does he really exist?


Man, it really all depends on how many beers I've drank... I'm on 13 right now; so needless to say I'm pretty shitfaced. What? Gotta problem? If you make me look stupid in this interview I will burn Mangos to the fucking ground and take a shit on the smoldering ashes. I can be a crabby drunk sometimes. Usually I'll give you the shirt off my back or I'll just steal a shirt off someone else’s, but sometimes I can be a real motherfucker. I know, I know, some dickheads say, "Fuck that guy, he's the worst dude." All I can really say is, "YOU MAD!" If you know me, then you know that 60% of the time I'm just joking and the other 40% is just me taking it out on the world. Boredom is my worst enemy. When I get bored, I start to think like a criminal.

What is your favorite tune on the new 7" and what is it about?

Well, "London’s Burning" was the first song I wrote with Black Congress and it's about the first wave of bombing in London during the Second World War. I watched a documentary about the survivors and it made me sick how all the city cared about was their fucking stupid church. They saw it as a beam of hope during the bombing and many people were out on top of St. Paul’s cathedral during the attack putting out fires. I have issues with god, I couldn't see myself risking my life trying to save a church... ever. I don’t care if Jesus or Allah or Buddha or Charlie Manson came down from the sky and told me so. And it really was interesting to me that the Nazis dropped incendiary devices first. They wanted everything to burn so that the waves of bombers to follow could see the city and bomb the fuck out of it. Evil. Pure fucking evil. The second song is "Davidians”. I wrote that song about drugs and David Koresh. He wanted to be close to god and sometimes when I get stoned I see shadows out of the corners of my eyes. I think its some higher power trying to get me to understand it, pull me to it, make me believe. Weed is a sacrament and I pray all fucking day. To answer your question, “Davidians” is my joint.

Explain to me the Black Congress slogan of 'War. Dub. War. Weed.'

Listen to our record and you'll understand.

Did you REALLY take a shit in the pocket of a pool table?

Yes. I shut the bar down for a week. I had a bad problem with Xanex 4 years ago. It was the worst time of my life. Anyway… some dumb fuck bartender yelled at me for sitting on the edge of the pool table. He was a real prick and was eye fucking me all night. Eventually his attention was on someone else, so I pulled my pants down and let the blackest bukowski shit drip out of my asshole into the pool table pocket, it was the kind where you gotta pay for games so my shit just poured into the innards of the table. Immediately you could smell it. People started to leave and the bartender started to get wise to my dookie game. So I grabbed a pile of bar napkins and ran out of the place wiping my ass. My friend Ryan was right behind me as we were running out and one of my shit napkins hit him in the face.

List me some of your favorite local bands and then tell me which one of them would survive best in the post-civilization primal environment of nuclear fall-out?

First of all, I wanna quote a friend of mine, "the girl from the Wild Moccasins is cute. I bet rainbows and unicorns fly out of her pussy... real mystical shit." (Editors note: When contacted in regard to this mention, Zahira from Wild Moccasins quipped, "Who the fuck is Bryan Jackson?") The Wild Moccasins are a decent band if you have a vagina that still has it's hymen, you live in the ‘burbs, and are so uptight you can’t squeeze a greasy B.B. up your ass. Psychedelic pop? Sure... out look on the surviving: they'd melt during the regular Houston heat. Those kids are made of sugar.
Young Mammals: solid band, solid dudes, weirdo guitar player (not Carlos). I could see them doing something with themselves. Chance of survival: sorry bros, not a chance.
Beau Beasley bands: I happen to like Beaus’ bands. I like punk music. Not stinky "I don't shower and live on the street" punk. Chance of survival: Beau would morph into a cockroach and survive the blast only if he were promised that there would only be a paradise of hairy, mustache heavy, dick ready men.
Guitars:Wait. I don't give a fuck about J.D.'s drumming. Chances of survival: everyone in the band, yes, except J.D. He's a li’l too ginger to be outside.
BALACLAVAS: these guys have a distinct sound, the sound like the guts of Houston. I would love to spend a day in Tyler Morris' head. I can't wait for "Roman Holiday" (phonographic arts) to come out (very soon). I truly think that they are the best band in Houston. Nobody is doing what they do and they carry themselves a lot differently than other bands in the city. They have smart music that makes you wanna move. Between Tyler's gifted guitar playing and hypnotic voice, Bryans’ "dumb as fuck" bass lines and Charlie’s violent beats, I don't know where you can go wrong. Chances of survival: optimal. I don't think a nuclear bomb can stop these guys. Do not underestimate these guys; I've seen them give glorious beatings.


Best Tex-Mex in Houston, hand down is:

I fuckin’ hate Tex-Mex. Perfect example of a horrible idea. Some non-Hispanic motherfucker ruining what Mexican food really is. So I go to the Oaxaca taco truck near Soundwaves. Barbacoa tacos, please. I like face meat.
If you could play a show tonight with any band, dead or alive, who would it be?

Too many to say. The list goes on and on. I'm just happy to be in a band with my friends. I like the music I play and I like doing it live. I love the anxiety, the pressure, and the release I get. It’s a high I can’t get from anyone or anything. It's like cumming for 30 minutes. And I don’t care as long as I get paid.



Fill in the blanks: Roy Mata ___ don't fuck with an angry bear. I've done it once, just once.

Everyday ____ I want to start my own crime wave.

Guitars _____ Boooooorrrrrrriiiiinnnnnng.

Cadillac _____ I haven't driven a car for 8 years now.

I took a Darvocet halfway through this interview because of a broken hand. I typed it with one hand and now I want to die.

4 Comments:

At August 18, 2009 at 3:00 PM , Blogger jay said...

that's m-e-r-r-i-t-t !!!!!

 
At August 19, 2009 at 5:21 PM , Anonymous Anonymous said...

charming

 
At August 21, 2009 at 11:49 AM , Anonymous Mango Man said...

moccasins were such a dull hype..haha! fairly amusing music with a mustache singing alongside a cute chick. Sweet interview..quite intriguing. Seemed so effortless . I like that.

 
At October 2, 2009 at 4:20 PM , Blogger just plain andy said...

Damn Bryan, you're just as crazy as ever.

 

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