What a fine time to remind you I am the author of This Music Leaves Stains: The Complete Story of The Misfits (not so complete any more), available for purchase here. The Austin Chronicle likes it, saying I “pull no punches” as I “accurately and respectfully” barrel through the group’s saga. Psychobabble claims this volume is “informative” and “thorough” and “pretty much anyone will get a kick out of it.” You know what? I don’t think it’s too bad either.
Here’s something you can do for free: take a look at the online photographic supplement for This Music Leaves Stains and see a wealth of Misfits imagery I couldn’t afford to license for print publication. Imagery like the photograph above. Look at that goddamn punk rocker. He’s sick of everybody’s shit.
If you’re curious how a dope like me wound up writing a book like that in the first place, this interview might help explain a thing or three.
Thank you for your interest and consideration. We remain one thirty eight.
My name is James Greene, Jr. (please, call me James) and I am a freelance writer. My work has appeared in such storied publications as Crawdaddy!, Orlando Weekly, New York Press, Splitsider, Geek Monthly, Nerve, and Uncle John’s Bathroom Reader. I also wrote the liner notes to Gluecifer’s best of / rarities disc Kings Of Rock (currently out of print). At the moment I do most of my writing for No Recess!.
My first book, This Music Leaves Stains: The Complete Story Of The Misfits, was published in 2013. Please to be consulting the TMLS F.A.Q. for pertinent details. According to the Austin Chronicle I “pull no punches” as I “accurately and respectfully” relate the tale of Jersey’s most celebrated punks. According to Superchunk drummer Jon Wurster my book is good enough to photograph yourself with at an airport.
In 2017, I had a second book published. It’s called Brave Punk World: The International Rock Underground From Alerta Roja to Z-Off and it’s all about the development of punk rock around the globe. Learn more here. “I loved this book,” said online rock critic Mark Prindle in a Facebook post. The guy who mows my mom’s lawn hasn’t read it yet but tells me it’s on his list.
Personals: I was born and raised in the southwest corner of Connecticut, the Nutmeg State. Oh, what a state of nutmeg in which we lived and breathed. Brooklyn, Albany, and Florida have also been home. I’ve never been married and I’ve never owned land. I’ve also never had my tonsils out. I had a dog once. Her name was Minnie. I fed her carrot sticks.
I have a BA in organizational communication from the University of Central Florida. Yes, the college where they shot “Superboy.” Somehow Disney still reigns as Orlando’s most popular tourist destination.
You can hear the sound of my voice on Yaxzon Jackson, the podcast wherein I discuss Michael Jackson with Rollie Hatch.
That’s all for now. Thanks for visiting.
Astronomers at Caltech suggest our Milky Way Galaxy is comprised of one planet per star, i.e. 100-400 billion exoplanets. Meanwhile, I’m vigorously testing the “man can survive on fried chicken and Mountain Dew alone” theory. Results are inconclusive, but local deep fryers applaud my efforts nonetheless.
My first book, This Music Leaves Stains: The Complete Story of The Misfits, is released in hardcover. More importantly, the news announcing this fact gets over ninety-two “likes” on Facebook, instantly validating the book’s very existence.
Paul Bearer dies.
Record Store Day is celebrated at Goodwill, where I swoop up unwanted copies of X’s Wild Gift, Sonic Youth’s Experimental Jet Set, and the White Stripes album with “Seven Nation Army” on it. White Stripes end up getting more spins than Sonic Youth, which surprises me. I submit my taxes at the last possible second; the endorphin rush lasts for days.
I decide to visit King Oliver’s grave in the Bronx on an unusually rainy day. The ground in the cemetery proves to be so moist I almost lose a shoe. It is during this trip that I spot the graffiti of the year: upon one of the many ads that hang in the subway tunnels promoting “Seinfeld” reruns someone has scrawled “racist pig fuck” over the otherwise unassuming face of Michael Richards. #neverforget
I try all three flavors of Shaq soda and they all taste like carbonated dessert plates. Man of Steel barnstorms its way into our lives and our pop culture think-pieces. The theater where I see it holds a Superman trivia contest before the screening and a minor uproar occurs when the winner (who must stride forward to claim his Henry Cavill poster) is discovered to be wearing a Batman shirt. Amy Adams makes me fall in love with Lois Lane all over again, but more importantly she briefly makes me fall in love with Amy Adams. I come dangerously close to watching Enchanted.
The Great Ear Clog of 2013 besieges me in a waxy hell. Somehow I find a way to blame this malady on Grown Ups 2.
Labor Day Weekend is spent in the Twin Cities. I do not see Prince, I do not see any Replacements (living or dead), but I do see someone in a Bigfoot costume at the state fair.
It’s a tacky roadside bonanza as I visit both Flea World and Gatorland in beautiful sunny Florida. Both experiences are underwhelming on many levels but at least I can say I was there in 2013. Speaking of junk culture, bottles of Moxie are spotted at an Orlando-area grocer. Having never seen this medicine-flavored treat south of Connecticut, I immediately break out into the Boogaloo, the Roger Rabbit, and yes, even the Patty Duke.
The softcover of This Music Leaves Stains is released, which means it is finally cheap enough for my friends to buy and read. While in San Francisco on business I somehow avoid any and all Rice-a-Roni jokes. I also make zero references to the Zodiac Killer. I take pause as I realize this and consider seeking medical attention.
My book tour takes me from one end of the country (NYC) to the other (Oregon). I regret not spending more time in Ohio.
If you’ll allow me to be nakedly sincere for a moment, 2013 was a fantastic year for me (even with the ear thing). Thanks to all who supported / saw me through it. I really do love you all.