Ministry

by Jourgensen, Al

  Not long after that Patty told me she was pregnant. It came as a big surprise, because whenever we’d have sex I’d just pull it out then stick it in her mouth. That’s the best form of birth control of all—blowjobs. There’s no hassle that way. But somehow we fucked up. One day Patty said, “I haven’t had my period in two months, and I went to the doctor and they say I’m pregnant.” I was like, “Well, hunky dory.” With Patty everything was a calculated business decision, even our personal lives. When she was pregnant the big question was, “Should we have the kid?” I said, “I don’t know, man. I think this is kind of creepy. Neither of us is in any mental or physical condition to raise a child.” But she said, “I think I want it.” Even the proposal for marriage was, “Yeah, alright, we have a kid coming. You think we should get married?” There was nothing passionate about it. All the decisions were like business transactions.

  But we decided to get married, so we went to downtown Chicago civil court, got married, and came back home. There was no big wedding and no party. After the ceremony we came back to the coach house we were living in. It was in the back of another house in Wriglyville on Sheffield Avenue, and we shared a two-bedroom with two other people. After the wedding we watched our roommate get in a fight with our other roommate. There was no romance, no tenderness—nothing. Now, the only person who has ever spawned a Jourgensen was Patty Jourgensen, yet to me that marriage was flawed from the very first second. It wasn’t good, whereas Angie and my grandmother Carmen are my two angels; they are the two women in my life I’ve cherished. My first wife—ugh, whatever, man. It’s really weird that the woman I had a child with is the one I care the least about. My attitude is, “Wow, what the fuck did I do that for?” Except I got a really great kid out of it.

  While Patty was pregnant we both quit doing drugs. It wasn’t that hard because we weren’t rich enough to be junkies. We were weekend warriors, and she was sensible enough to know she had to stop using when she got pregnant. And I knew I couldn’t be using in front of her; that would just be cruel and fucked up, and I wasn’t hooked at that point, so stopping was just a matter of willpower. I’d spend most of my time in the upstairs room of my coach house dicking around with a four-track, a keyboard, and a set of headphones, and that’s where I wrote “(Every Day Is) Halloween” and “All Day” and all that stuff during the nine months we were biting our nails while she was pregnant. I was so worried the whole time that the baby would come out with two heads because of my fucked up DNA, but she came out normal—a beautiful baby girl who we proceeded to damage mentally in the years that followed to the point where years of therapy will probably never heal the wounds. I mean, Adrienne is a great kid and I love her; we’re close now and I feel blessed to have her. But at the time I didn’t want to deal with the responsibility of being a dad, so I just didn’t. That’s a shitty thing to do. I feel bad about it, and it’s something I’ll always have to live with.

  Before Sire picked up Ministry I was writing TV and radio jingles to help support our drug habits, pay the rent, and feed the baby. I did a commercial for Shasta and some stuff for Huffy, and every time I left the studio I wanted to kill myself. It really put into perspective what my dad had to go through, cutting off his lifelong dream to support a family. That’s what I was doing, and it was horrific, but it toughened me up. If you cut me up right now and put me on a plate, I’d be some tough meat. You couldn’t eat it; it would be toxic, tough, and chewy. No, there’s no cannibalism with me. The deal with Huffy came to an end when I gave them this song for a bike called the Panther, and at the end of this cheesy tune they wanted me to purr loudly into the mike. I said, “Fuck you. Get someone else to purr. I quit.”

  I also recorded some songs for Wax Trax! that Arista didn’t want, and they became club hits. “The Nature of Love” was still dance oriented and wussy, but the beat was heavier, had a deep echo to it, and there were some abrupt keyboard stabs that were kind of radical for the time. I also experimented with samples from movies and commercials, and the lyrics were kind of relevant: “Love is like a razor blade / Double edge and double pain.” But the track that everyone lost their shit over was “(Every Day Is) Halloween.” To this day I hate it, but people are still playing it. It’s got this gothic vibe, this repetitive hook, and this vocal that goes, “boppy-bop-bop” that people like. Radio stations always pull it out around Halloween, but it’s not even about Halloween—it’s about people giving you shit for having a mohawk. “Why do you look like you’re dressed for Halloween, you freak?” In the song I just railed against that. I didn’t think it was going to strike a chord with anyone.

  “(Every Day Is) Halloween” even saved my life. One night I was in the Cabrini Green ghetto section of Chicago, which was notorious for its gang violence. I was trying to score dope, and these five black guys jumped out of the shadows and surrounded me. One of them pulled out a gun and said, “Hey whitey, what are you doing in this neighborhood?” He was going to shoot me. And then one of the gangsters said, “Yo, wait a minute, man. Don’t shoot.” He recognized me as the “bop-bop” man from “(Every Day Is) Halloween.” He called me the bop-bop man, and they let me pass into the ghetto to score dope. “It’s alright. It’s the bop-bop man. He’s cool.”

  We went on tour with Front 242, who were also on Wax Trax!, and that’s how I met Richard 23, who I formed Revolting Cocks with. During that tour the president of Sire records, Seymour Stein, went to eight shows and kept trying to get backstage, but I kept him out every time because my experience with Arista was so horrible. I thought, “I’ve had enough of these major label assholes.” But he was incredibly persistent. One day I finally agreed to meet with him at the Ritz in New York. He had just signed Madonna and wanted to show me how committed he was to his artists. She was there at the club, so he called her over and we’re face to face, which was weird enough, but all of a sudden everything smelled like a combination of tuna and dog shit.

  It could have been this club or someone else, so I told Madonna to check her shoes because I thought she stepped in dog shit. She lifted one leg and checked out the shoe, then did the same with the other leg. There was no dog shit, but it still stunk like fuck. She was all sweaty from dancing and dressed like she was in “Like a Virgin.” I was like, “I don’t know what it is, but it smells really shitty in here.” So we finished meeting each other, and she started walking back to the dance floor, and the smell was gone! I figured it’s got to be her. I went chasing after her to tell her to check her shoes again, and as soon as I got to her the smell was back. She called me a creep or something and said, “Fuck you.” But as soon as she left, the smell was gone again. So introducing me to Madonna to get me to sign with Sire didn’t impress me so much.

  However, by the eighth Ministry show Seymour attended, I finally let him backstage and said I’d sign with Sire on one condition: they help bail out Wax Trax!, which was going out of business. I got a lot of money up front and put it into Wax Trax! and became a part owner. Jim and Danny were signing important, legendary bands, but people didn’t know who Laibach, Front 242, or KMFDM were at the time. So I sold Ministry again. It was kind of a personal sacrifice to keep that company rolling and allow them to keep signing bands. My heart belonged to Wax Trax! but my soul belonged to Sire records. And they had no idea what they had gotten themselves into.

  Intervention 2

  Pick Your Poison—

  The Effects of Dangerous Substances

  on an Unstable Mind

  The following is a catalog of the mind-altering chemicals Al Jourgensen was on when he created his signature works. Warning: Don’t try this at home.

  Ministry, With Sympathy (1983)

  Nothing. I was totally straight when I did that album, and maybe that’s part of the problem. I was in England, and we were recording next to Paul McCartney. The only good memory I have from that time was playing “Asteroids” with a Beatle in the lounge.

  Revolting Cocks, Big Sexy
Land (1985)

  I recorded that in Brussels while I was living there. Primarily we did it on beer and speed. It was this stuff called Wiz, which is amphetamine sulfate. You could get it all over Europe, but you couldn’t get it in America. Here you had crystal meth, and that shit just makes me shake like I have Parkinson’s. I hate that stuff. We did Big Sexy Land right after we did Twitch. We went from London to Brussels.

  Ministry, Twitch (1986)

  That was written and recorded under the influence of Wiz, which was prevalent in England. That’s why the album’s called Twitch.

  Ministry, The Land of Rape and Honey (1988)

  By that time we were seeing some money so I was using a lot of heroin, coke, and psychedelics. I didn’t know Tim Leary yet, so I was doing the basic paper stuff that you’d get off the street. But I was still kind of a weekend warrior. By the time we got to The Mind Is a Terrible Thing to Taste, fuck it. I was a full-blown addict.

  Ministry, The Mind Is a Terrible Thing to Taste (1989)

  I was using a lot of heroin and coke. Also, we got a pound of MDA from this girl. It was in a huge bag, and you just put a little on our finger, rub it on your gums, and the next thing you know you’re fucking insane.

  Revolting Cocks, Beers, Steers + Queers (1990)

  I was already ready for celebrity rehab. I was using mass amounts of heroin, coke, acid, alcohol, speed, and more. We did everything you can think of on that album.

  Ministry, Psalm 69: The Way to Succeed and the Way to Suck Eggs (1992)

  Mikey Scaccia and I were complete heroin and coke bingers. Up and down, the yo-yo ride. And large quantities of it. We were full-blown addicts. We did speedballs, these mixtures of heroin and coke, all the time. I don’t know how we got through that one. If Mikey’s riffs weren’t so good, we never would have finished the record.

  Revolting Cocks, Linger Fickin’ Good (1993)

  Timothy Leary came down and did a couple songs with us, and he brought a bottle of liquid LSD. Immediately I was hooked on that stuff. The paper stuff sucks by comparison. Other than that, it was the usual—speedball city.

  Ministry, Filth Pig (1996)

  God, I can’t even listen to that record today, it’s so dark. It was done under the influence of 99.9 percent heroin. There wasn’t much coke there. I would just nod out, wake up, nod out, wake up. I was depressed. I was going through a divorce. It was just darkness.

  Ministry, Dark Side of the Spoon (1999)

  That album was done with major, major amounts of heroin, but the coke came back too. That’s the only way I could get through the record. I’d shoot up some heroin and pass out. Then I’d shoot up coke so I could get up and keep working. It was really demoralizing.

  Ministry, Animositisomina (2003)

  I kicked everything. I was sicker than fuck that whole record. I wasn’t drinking—nothing. I can’t believe they made me go through that and do a record at the same time. Management wanted that; Paul Barker wanted that. So fuck, alright, I’ll do it. But it wasn’t pretty.

  Ministry, Houses of the Molé (2004)

  Mikey and I were drinking a lot. We were complete fall-down rowdy drunks. It was a really fun two-year period.

  Ministry, Rio Grande Blood (2006)

  I can’t really do Ministry sober, so we just drank beer and wine. It wasn’t nearly as crazy as when we did Molé because we mixed that record in Phoenix and were under a tight deadline and a budget. I had to come through, and Angie is really by the book when it comes to deadlines.

  Ministry, The Last Sucker (2007)

  I felt like shit during that whole session, so I didn’t party too hard. Mostly we were just drinking beer and wine. Tommy, Raven, and I would sit around and get drunk and shoot the shit.

  Buck Satan & The 666 Shooters, Bikers Welcome, Ladies Drink Free (2012)

  That was a blast. We did it after my ulcers felt better. We’d get drunk on wine and beer and then record these crazy country-punk songs.

  Ministry, Relapse (2012)

  I was way drunker when I did that album. That’s why I called it Relapse. Some of the guys were drinking cheap vodka, but I stuck mostly to wine and some beer too. There’s a lot riding on Ministry records, so I had to drink so I could get creative and wouldn’t freeze up.

  Ministry, From Beer to Eternity (2013)

  Beer, and lots of it.

  chapter 5

  Twitch of the Death

  Nerve—Lethal Trax!

  At home, life was beginning to resemble a scene from a William Burroughs novel, and I hadn’t even met the man yet. I wasn’t a full-blown junkie, but I was getting close. I had enough income to bring in drugs, and our little subsets of “friends” came in. The guy whose drugs I once did for free would come over to do drugs for free with me. And Patty would have the same thing with people she knew. Then, Wax Trax! started selling a lot of copies of “(Every Day Is) Halloween” and “Cold Life” and we suddenly had money. So we went from being opportunistic druggies to Sid and Nancy. Sustaining a loving or monogamous relationship under those conditions just ain’t gonna happen. We fought all the time about everything. There were so many signs that pointed in the direction of “Dude, you ought to bail,” but we were totally codependent. Sometimes the devil you know seems preferable to the devil you don’t know—there was a comfort level there. Meanwhile, we had this beautiful baby Patty was feeding between fixes.

  I guess I was a really shitty parent. My parents were shitty, but they had their own reasons. I was just…not there. Basically I’d pull my shit together for Christmas Eve. I’d read Adrienne “’Twas the Night Before Christmas”—just me and her alone in a room. That would be the only time she’d have to spend with her papa. I’d read her that shit, and then I’d wake her up the next morning and we’d watch Scarface together. That was our Christmas movie. After about five years of that, she hated me. She was just like, “You’re really twisted.” I’d pull my shit together for certain days—her birthday or whatever—but for the most part I was not interested, man. I kept it together for those certain days, but most of the time, nahh. . . . I feel bad. I didn’t meet up to that expectation of being a responsible father. I left that to the caretakers Patty would find. I just didn’t let it bother me because I was devoted to two things, and neither of them involved a daughter: drugs and music. I was living the nightmare, baby.

  In the middle of all this chaos Seymour Stein sent me to London in 1985 to make the first Ministry record for Sire, Twitch, with Adrian Sherwood. Adrian started out on the UK reggae scene and launched the On-U Sound label. Then he gradually started working with rock bands and experimental bands, including the Slits, Public Image Ltd, and The Fall. He also had this electronic group he was involved with called Tack>>Head, which featured drum programmer Keith LeBlanc, who was from the Sugarhill Gang and Grandmaster Flash camp, which really impressed me. Tack>>Head worked with Mark Stewart and Gary Clail and did these early dub-industrial songs full of samples and heavy beats. Adrian took this electronic body music stuff I was coming up with for Twitch and turned it into this awesome, echoing, in-your-face assault of keyboards and vocals. I wasn’t using distorted vocals yet, but he brought the edge out in my voice. He had Doug Wimbish, who played with the Rolling Stones and Living Colour, doing some tracks, and it was all tight and had a killer groove. I gotta say that Adrian taught me everything I know about production. I soaked it all in like an acid-laced sponge. But his friends were a bunch of criminal yobbo skinheads. One of them pickpocketed me one time in a bar and stole my wallet. And those were his friends! They were all speed freaks and soccer hooligans, so I got into a few Trainspotting-style bar fights there, with bottles smashing across the head and beer mugs to the face.

  But being in the studio with Adrian was amazing, and even though the stuff on Twitch is still pussy shit with me and my pathetic fake English accent, at least it’s got balls. I heard the mix-down of s
ongs like “Over the Shoulder” and “We Believe.” I had been in the studio before, but only as a player; sitting in there with him while he was mixing was really inspirational. I told him, “Look, I’ll pay you extra just to teach me how to mix so I can do this shit myself.” And he did—best teacher in the world. I wouldn’t know my ass from my elbow if it wasn’t for Adrian Sherwood. Being able to live in London and work at Southern Studios with Adrian was awesome, man.

  And he got his money’s worth as well. Aside from what Sire paid him and what I paid him to teach me to produce, he got some of my songs from the Twitch sessions for the Tack>>Head EP. I sold him five songs in exchange for the two songs that became “Abortive” on The Land of Rape and Honey and “My Favorite Things” by the side project PTP. And they gave me an ounce of this amphetamine called Wiz to seal the deal.

  But I fuckin’ hated London. I was living in the far north of London, across the street from Southern Studios up in Woodgreen, so it was really hard to get anywhere. There was a really good Indian restaurant across the street, but I was so freaked out about the drivers because they drive on the left-hand side of the road. So I’d look to the right and see it was clear, and then I’d try to cross the street and almost get run over. This happened four or five times, and then I just gave up and wound up eating at the same gyro place on my street every day. I didn’t want to cross the street because every time it seemed like when I tried a car would almost run me over. There were so many narrow misses, so much honking and swerving. I couldn’t figure it out. I’m not built for that. And back then London didn’t even have takeout. There was no Domino’s or Chinese. The tubes closed at 11 p.m., so if I went to see a show, I would have to haul ass to catch the last train. Coming from Chicago, it was like a third-world country. And I really missed Chicago.