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Mo Digliani
words, vocals
The circumference of my head is roughly 24", if you count the bump. I guess it's genetics. Anyway, why not? Regarding my musical background...I taught myself how to play drums in Junior High School, and mostly played old rock songs in garage bands, like the Love Mongers, Moon Murphy's Mutants and Gangrene (not to be confused with Gang Green). I was usually the worst guy in the band. My passion clearly exceeded my chops. But we played in my parents ' basement and had band meetings in my mother's cedar closet. She was never entirely clear about the smell. Eventually, I went to San Francisco and played drums in the underground rock scene there, for the bands Ultrasheen, The Alter Boys and Frank Hymng. That scene did a lot for my head and for my survival skills. I even developed a few chops, along with tons of attitude. It was mostly an art school scene, where the bands were into performance art as much as music: lots of kids with A.D.D., self-medicating on speed, and playing really fast, loud music. The bands I was in played some very funky gigs (I especially liked playing The Mabuhay and Club Foot), sharing the stage with some adventurous bands, some of whom have since made a dent or two on America and the world's cultural consciousness. On stage I got hit with my fair share of half-full beer cans and burritos. But that's not what finally got to me. Ultrasheen played a gig with a band, called Suburban Lawns I think, at The California Institute of Art (CIA). The punch they provided really whacked me, and after we finished playing I had a personal crisis about elitism, sex, death and dead-eyed henchmen. I had to split, so I caught a ride to L.A., after a Night of the Living Dead misadventure at a bus station, trying to escape. I was definitely paranoid, and they were after me. So I quit Ultrasheen, hawked my drums, took a bus to Boston and got married. Right before I left, a manager of a rockabilly band we used to share gigs with, asked me if I wanted to play with them when I got back to San Francisco. I said I'd think about it. Well, I didn't go back to San Francisco, and now the front man of that band has his own T.V. Show. Excellent.In Boston I joined a teenage noise band (I was the old fart of the group, relatively speaking), called Vitamin. We thrashed around the Boston underground, playing a lot of gigs in clubs like the Rat, where my band mates were too young to be admitted as patrons, but not too young to play at. We had a lot of fun, inciting people to dive into the crowd off of stages and speaker collumns, sharing the stage with experimental bands reaching for their revolvers, and a bunch of young snakes. But then one day, I had a kid, and getting home at 4:00 A.M. from gigs didn't work so well any more. So I got real job, and started plotting my eventual emergence as more of a word guy than a drummer. Eventually I formed the Primidonnatives, to play simple, weird electric music to go along with my wordscapes and dream scenarios. Then I ran into this old cat, Uncle Bic, who is basically a modern beatnick, and who essentially has the same mind as me. Bic put out our cd last summer, and introduced me to this monster musician he knew, Randy Roos. Bic thought we might do some cool collaboration. Randy and I started working on some songs together, and it opened up whole new vistas for me. Randy and I found this fabulous singer, harp player, B.J. Harpman, fronting a local blues band....and we thought, "an electrowordrock band with a harmonica playin', blues singer...why the hell not." We ain't prejudiced against white blues singers (or any blues singers, for that matter). Anyway, that's how Van Gogh Shadowtree was born. And now you might ask, what is this thing called love? Passion, baby, passion, in whatever form it takes. When I'm not working with Van Gogh Shadowtree, I try to keep my hand in with The Primidonnatives...and try to lead my life. You know, contrary to popular belief, musicians actually have lives, with families and jobs and stuff. So, I do my lovin' family thing, and earn some moola, so I can eat. Music sure as shit hasn't paid the rent, though I've had a fine ride with it. Now, as to what turns me on when I have time to do it? More time, for one thing. I never have enough of that. And books, paintings, old movies, records and strange ideas. I kinda hate television and certain aspects of popular culture. I kinda love Henry Miller, Van Gogh (big surprise?), Howlin' wolf, Captain Beefheart and Fight Club . I dig Common, Charlie Parker, Bulgakoff, Sleater-Kinney, Toshiro Mifune, The Buzzcocks, Rimbaud, Rainer Maria, Grand Master Flash, films by Akira Kurosawa, Bright Eyes, The Meters and Kandinsky. My favorite Monkee is Wool Hat Nesmith, the one who could actually play his instrument, and whose mother invented White Out. What else do I like? I love kids, the potential of the human heart and mind to work together, and the softness of women's bodies. My philosophy is about art and passion. I don't think anyone sucks who really cares about what they do or what they express. Hey, I respect all artists who are trying to be true to themselves. Man, even Kid Rock, if I found out he really believes in the stuff he does. I did almost puke recently when I saw a rock video by a band called Simple Plan, but I don't know if I blame them or the culture of art commerce which breeds that kind of lame and bogus image mongering. My pet peeves are insincerity and most television advertisements. I just wish I could get more sleep and have more time to day dream, generate creative language and speculate about the nature of things. Rhythm in my life is everything, 'cause rhythm is. -Mo Digliani, summer 2003 |
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