My
name is Marcus Goodwin. When I was 7 years old, I was struck
psychic after meeting in the Las Vegas desert the recluse
filmmaker, financial-industrialist Howard Hughes. I nearly choked
to death that day on desert dust, and "came to" hours
later with the surprising sense of clairvoyance; sort of like
the Dutch psychic Peter Hurkos (caught the Boston Strangler).
Hurkos, who fell off his ladder while painting a house, woke up
days later in the hospital to realize he was "psychic."
For me,
it was the sand.
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Author, Mystic,
Since my early teens, I have made a living telling fortunes. After
predicting the futures for hoards of people on the New York City
streets (and at Webster Hall night club), I graduated to undercover
psychic on Wall Street. I wrote a book about the experience called
THE PSYCHIC INVESTOR [Adams Media, 2000]. It was great fun
being psychic and writing that book pretending to really give a
hoot about wanting to climb the corporate ladder. Inevitably, I
learned a lot about the markets, helped a bunch of people with their
stock picks, and may never forget those madcap days. People really
love that book. I still get more fan mail than I can read.
By the way,
I think everyone is psychic. You too.
Doc
Stubble
(Marcus) /
Crusty Eggloaf
Stubble / Sloppy Joe Stubble / Snicker Stubble
Barney Rubble and the Cunt Stubble |
Rockstar,
I was angry in the early 90's; angry at rock & roll, angry
at politics, and angry at my own psychic-ness. So I formed and
fronted the equally aggressive and angry punk band with the apt
name BARNEY RUBBLE AND THE CUNT STUBBLE. The name itself
became a problem for the band; after an aggressive legal battle
with Hanna Barbara & Co. (the creators of the Flintstones),
the band was forced to streamline their name to "THE STUBBLES."
THE
STUBBLES recorded a 7-song lo-fi demo [ZONTE, 1990] that
became an instant underground hit. Recorded on a 4-track cassette
recorder in less than a week, the recording grabbed the attention
of the NYC club scene. The band went on to play most of the important
area stages and perform as an opener to a few major acts. Shortly
thereafter, they recorded their first full length CD, SOAP
SUD ENEMA [Flexible Manikin / Mutha, 1990].
The CD sold
a respectable 3,000 copies before the smack-lifestyle finally
caught up with us, and the band dismembered.
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Barney Rubble and the Cunt Stubble
Soap Sud Enema, 1990
Flexible Manikin / Mutha Records |
"You guys are sick -- and I love
it!"
- Max Hardcore, LA pornstar
|
Swing-and-a-miss
(?),
In a moment of mid-1990's weakness, I thought that maybe the world
really is a good place, and that maybe people really do give a
shit about each other, about the environment, and about human
rights; so I decided to release a bunch of songs I wrote that
seemed to echo that hunch; hence, THE RULING CLASS [Flexible
Manikin, 2002].
THE RULING
CLASS' first album, GREETINGS FROM NEW YORK CITY didn't get
many spins, if you know what I mean. Although the songs seem relevant,
perhaps the world really doesn't need another average white guy
with a guitar singing average rock n' roll tunes about I don't
know what. In a press release, I defined the work, and the people
who helped record it as such, "The Ruling Class is a metaphor
for the very thing great artists and musicians aspire to be; that
is, kings of the spiritual realm, perfection, wisdom-ic beings
-- rulers…"
(?)
The truth
is, most would-be artists spend their days trying to fulfill a
pompous pipe dream that never materializes. Living day-to-day
trying to feel more than the next guy; trying to speak
volumes about the world that hums around them. But never really
get around to saying much more than, "pick me -- pick me."
I'm in this
for a different reason -- a connection of sorts. I prefer
to just bring my music directly to you, the listener audience,
via the internet. No middlemen, no third parties, no nothing.
Just great songs to listen to. FREE for the taking.
Summation,
BARNEY RUBBLE AND THE CUNT STUBBLE was a group of dirty-minded
boys grabbing at everything that life had to offer, mainly the
lion's share of the evening's drugs and pussy. People identified
with that. On the other hand, THE PSYCHIC INVESTOR was a literary
effort by the same psychic-boy to redeem himself. People identified
with that one as well. And BUTTCRACKER [Flexible Manikin,
2003] is the psychic summation of the two; some much needed pop-psychic
insight entwined with political-pornographic imagery -- played
in the key of drone-melancholy.
I guess that's
why people are grabbing at it.
BUTTCRACKER
is the indie-folk-progression of what ultimately becomes of horny
drugged out cock-rockers who don't play by the rules; who then
take a stab at redemption only to find its full of the same thieves
and scoundrels. The songs tell the story of what became of at
least 2 of those guys in that porno-band (Eggz and I),
and how they mature to take their rightful positions in society
as dirty old men.
And then there was BUG ON THE WALL [Flexible Manikin, 2004],
Writing songs is great fun. So I decided to add another 17 to
the collection. Some tracks are funny and dirty, some are plain
and introspective. Most of them you can dance to!
 .
Enjoy the
new releases. And if they offend you, take a good hard look in
the mirror. If you still feel the same, write a letter to your
congressmen. See what they tell you.
By the way, if squeaky clean is your thing, check out TONGUE
[Flexible Manikin, 2004]. Not a curse word on the whole damn
thing.
Peace, and
may the good spirits be with you,
--Marcus
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