An old song by Andy McCoy when he had a band called Shooting Gallery for, oh, a week or so. Well, longer than that – they opened for KISS on one tour before disintegrating into the sort of thing they were named for and the singer Billy G. Bang essentially vanished off the face of the earth. Apparently you can transmute yourself up into a syringe if you’re foolish enough or too far gone enough… but anyway I digress.
The song was called “Nature of My Business,” a fantasy of having the power of life over death, or at least the ability to make the choice for another and get away with it.
I’m so surprised that I made it this far
I survived, I’m alive, hey, I love life
It’s just the nature of my business
Then there’s that infamous photo of Boyd Rice with whathisface from the American Front. A spoof pic for Sassy of all things that follows Rice to this day, not that he minds. Young American men with a swagger even seated and a dangerous energy as if they were capable of things you couldn’t even imagine and Boyd has that devil’s smirk as he holds a switchblade.
Not all titillation involves tits, and I bet most of the protestors at NON shows had dreams based on that photo that they’d never cop to.
The smirk that gets across in a nanosecond what McCoy needed five minutes and nine seconds to approximate.
Who says there are no more incubi?
And then there’s my old lockblade, found in the back of a drawer with assorted occult texts and knickknacks. “Kissing Crane,” which I believe is a German manufacturer. Well, they would know how to make their point, now, wouldn’t they?
And yes, it’s a Stiletto. Four inches, like so many others of another sort I have to make my points.
Now, back to the beginning… how does one take that knife and that photograph and transmute them into a song that actually fulfills their promises?
That is my work for the week.
[Ed 2020:a few years after this post, Billy turned up alive and finally well after decades in the Abyss. Miracles do happen.]