About those con artists:
I met Nicholai Sorensen Goodich in 1991 when I was playing open mics at the Sun Mountain Bar on West Third Street in NYC. At the time he was jovial, dredlocked, and played vampy Richie Havens, stream of consciousness type grooves. He did not know what his chords were called. What became evident about Nicholai, over time, was that he had a dream and a plan. I was part of the plan. He wanted rock superstardom. He was an unabashed self promoter. He was unafraid to approach anyone no matter how unprepared he was. He called club booking agents, presidents of record companies, Mike Watt from Firehose. Amazingly, he got results. He booked a gig at Wetlands with a demo we did on a radio shack tape recorder in my parents basement. A crude partnership was formed between us. I was afraid of the world. He needed a musician to play leads, sing backup, fix his forms, and teach his rhythm sections what to do. Over time the situation became complex, dragged out, and quite ugly.
Nicks music and politics became strident. His sense of humor vanished.

Wounded Bird
- posted by danvt @ 9:58 AM