The New Werewolf of London is on the Prowl: Gilly, Fresh Ink & Warren Zevon
Good friends are just like good songs; you never get tired of ‘em. Whenever you hang with an old friend or hear a old fave rave song you get that same good timey, play it all night long feeling. A very good friend, actually one of my oldest and best friends, Gilly, just visited me in London. Cue the music…
Gilly and I go way, way back. We’ve shared some crazy experiences and some big moments in our lives (best man at my wedding). We share lots of likes: music, authors, scenes, habits and pastimes. We also share a love of tattoos. We love the idea of getting them and the act of getting them. Gilly has more than I do…many more…but we have equal appreciation for good skin-ink. Here is mine:
You can check out when I got my full ink done in Sydney, Australia.
When Gilly travels around the globe or in the States, he likes to collect ink in almost each location he visits. While he was here he was hellbent on getting some London Ink. I was a bad wingman this time around; I opted not to get any. I have a master plan for acquiring more ink, but I’m not yet ready to kick it off.
I made Gilly an appointment at a parlor in Soho called, Diamond Jacks. On the day he was to meet the ink slinger I had to do a bit of work and said I would stop in halfway through his session. I jumped on the tube and made my way to Piccadilly Circus and then walked through the streets of Soho up to the parlor.
Buried deep in the subconscious of every serious music fan is a vault of lyrics, stories, song titles and experiences associated with music. The littlest thing can start the synapse-a-firing and conjuring these random bits. Case in point: whenever I walk through London’s Soho, I can’t help but think of Warren Zevon’s “Werewolves of London”. I am a massive Zevon fan. “Werewolves” is not even in my top twenty fave rave Zevon tracks…but in this scenario, it is top of the list.
As I was walking up the alleyway to the shop (singing “werewolves”), I see this guy standing outside. It was one of those double take moments: “is that…nah, no wait…it is!”. There’s my old pal Gilly, shirt off, tatts blazing and just chilling in the alley. He was out there on a break from getting inked. No shit. I started to laugh out loud. It was a brilliant sight.
You had to be there. In this alley outside the tattoo parlor are a dozen or so sex shops, live girl/guy shows,drug dealers, freaks, pimps, dopers and scroungers. Here was a guy I have known since the sixth grade, a guy I have walked in step with for near twenty-six years, standing half naked outside a tattoo shop in the middle of London’s seediest of seedy spots. Epic. Strange. Shit Hot Cool.
Gilly’s fresh ink
Seeing Gilly there as he was in that scene was priceless. A werewolf in London, indeed. I’ll never get tired of thinking about that. I’ll never get tired of hanging with Gilly. And, I’ll never get tired of hearing a great Zevon song.
Ah, Zevon…I miss you Warren Zevon. Fuck You cancer.
Balls call here, but this is my fave rave Zevon track: The French Inhaler. The music is full of tempo changes, brilliant guitar fills, crescendos and lush, sweeping harmonies. The true genius…and that is no exaggeration…is found within the lyrics. Wow. What a story teller. You can taste the story and how the scenes play out. This is not a song, it is a movie and soundtrack all in one. This is cinematic as fuck. The way the lyrics build with the song at 2:52 and crash into what maybe one of the most perfectly placed guitar lines/fills ever. I have the chicken-skin just thinking about it. Listen for the “kiss-off” at the end. Genius, indeed.
You’ll want to check this out:
Warren’s ex-wife, Crystal, wrote a jarringly honest, brutal and touching book on Warren’s life called, “I’ll Sleep when I’m Dead: The Dirty Life & Times of Warren Zevon”. Why did she write it? He told her she had to. He told her to be gut-wrenchingly honest. She was. Wow…I had no idea his shit was THAT fucked up. Whew. As tragic as it was, I couldn’t put the damn thing down. If you are looking for a good read, flip those pages.
Here is an interview with Crystal. She talks about how she came to write it and also does a reading from it. It is a six minute vid, but well worth the time spent.
Here is the song Crystal was talking about, “Mohammed’s Radio” from a 1972 performance. Jackson Browne is playing with Warren. If you don’t know Warren’s story, you don’t know that Jackson championed Warren in the earliest days of Warren’s career. Jackson saw the talent and helped Warren get the breaks.
OK, since I mentioned it…even though Warren would leave the room if he heard it again… we have to hear it: “Werewolves of London”…live and unhinged.
