Glenn Danzig

Yeah.

I wanted to ask you, what kind of interactions did you have with Glenn Danzig? Because I think he funded the Undead record that you did, or one of the records, if I'm not wrong.

He did.

And then that was, of course, through Bobby, who played with the band.

It's a blitz from start to finish.

And Glenn Danzig, like Abel Ferrara, who's really commenting on philosophy and he's commenting on drug addiction, Glenn Danzig is always using fantasy to comment on something else.

And I don't exactly know what he's using the lyrics in this song to come where his state of mind was.

I'm not going to go that far, but this song is amazing.

They were looking at Arnold Schwarzenegger to play Dr. Octavius.

They were looking at Glenn Danzig to play Venom.

Such kind of an interesting development.

This never got off the ground.

Static Age is the most obscure yet essential Misfits record, because it's the first album they actually put in a studio, recorded back in January and February of 1978 at New York City's little-known CI Recordings facility, and yet no label would touch those tapes.

but instead they cut four tracks that would later surface on the Bullet EP under Danzig's fledgling Plan 9 imprint.

And that is how a band stuck in the same house they lived in could end up with a full set of songs sitting on the shelf, waiting for something to happen.

Right after those four singles, the Misfits hit what they thought was a big step and recorded an entire batch of songs for a full album.

Those later releases show how the original material was buried, re-mixed in 1997, mastered at West Westside Music, and finally distributed by Caroline Records, all after more than a decade of silence on the subject.

The entire story of Static Age is also about how the band's DIY ethos forced them to manage every step from songwriting to distribution.

Danzig ran his own label, Plan 9, but it never had the scale of a major corporation, so each record required extra money, phone calls, and handwritten invoices.

That hustle is part of why the album lived underground for almost two decades.

Picture this.

It's April seventy-seven in Lodi, New Jersey, a town that had never heard a proper scream until a kid named Glenn Danzig stumbled on a cramp-filled guitar solo that could've been ripped straight out of a B-movie soundtrack.

Danzig was already knee-deep in the underground scene.

He'd hung around the East Village's CBGB and had seen punk's early spasm before it was called punk.