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Writing the history of Hellhound
in anything other than the first person is
almost unimaginable.
While it might be unconventional to do so,
it seems particularly fitting because if there is any one thing that has set
us apart, it’s our unconventional approach. So
as the original Proprietor, I’m going to go
against convention and tell the story from my
own point of view.
Hellhound
officially opened in the summer of 2006, but
the seed for Hellhound had been planted many years
before that.
The first time I was in the presence
of live music I was about eight years old, I was
utterly mesmerized.
I immediately recognized that I was witnessing
the purest form of communication in existence and realized as well that there was scarcely
anything that moved me more.
A few years later I became acquainted
with the music of the late great Jimi Hendirix
and I was once again, mesmerized.
Another realization was made, well
actually two; musicians were magical people, and
I wanted to be a guitar player.
In the years that followed I never missed
an opportunity to see a band perform live and I
immensely enjoyed sitting in on rehearsal
sessions in friends’ basements and garages. It wasn’t until a few years later still, that I had
the opportunity to sit in on a session at an
actual rehearsal studio.
Until that day, I had no idea that such a
thing even existed.
It was inconceivable at the time, but I enjoyed fantasizing
about what it would be like to own such a place,
to be that close to the music, all the time.
It was more than twenty years before that
seed would be cultivated.
In
2001 I began looking for a location, and while
it is often said that location is everything
when opening a business, the luxury of picking a choice location
is only a useful strategy if you happen to be opening
let's say, a bakery (across the street from a church
works nicely), but say the words “rehearsal studio” to a zoning
official and his pupils become tiny little dots, the
veins in his forehead begin to throb, and he
starts searching frantically under his
desk for a blunt object to strike you with.
I might as well have been
requesting permission to open a nuclear
power plant. Well,
that was my experience anyway; perhaps I'd just
had a go at the wrong towns.
In any case, after more than three
years of
rejections and disappointments, I finally found
my spot, smack in the middle of the fledgling
Rahway Arts District.
Once I got the zoning approval, I signed
the lease and walked away from a very lucrative if
not satisfying career at the NYSE.
I’ve not spent one millisecond since in
regret of that decision.
Building
the studio was a rigorous test of human
endurance. Anyone who’s ever had to wade into the murky,
piranha-infested waters of general contractors
should require no further explanation there, (no
offense to anyone reading who happens to be a
GC, of course there are some admirable ones, I just
didn’t happen to make their acquaintance).
However, despite the valiant efforts of
these people to empty my pockets while
systematically eighty-sixing my hopes and
dreams, I prevailed!
To this day I'm convinced that supernatural forces
had my back, for every time I found myself
backed into a corner some incredible (and
often impossible) solution would seem to
materialize out of nowhere.
It was uncanny.
Jack , my good friend who’s sinced passed,
used to tell me all the time that he was
“visualizing” for me.
He believed with firm conviction that we could create
circumstances with our mind by visualizing them
in acute focus.
When he used to tell me that I only half
believed him. I guess I have a different
thought about that now.
The
idea to name the studio Hellhound was inspired
by blues folklore. For those readers who are not familiar with the Delta Blues legend Robert Johnson
who allegedly sold his soul to the Devil in
exchange for superior musical ability, I’ve
included that story on the ABOUT
page. Anyway,
recalling the reference made earlier to musicians being
"magical people”, it seemed
to me that there had to be some truth to this
so-called, “blues folklore” about people
bargaining their soul in order to master their
instrument. Because the searing energy and awesome creative
power that Master Musicians exude when they are one with their instrument is,
in every sense of the word,
otherworldly.
Perhaps a deal with the Devil is not
necessary, but a gift of one’s soul
certainly must be.
Music is nothing less than the conscious Universe
expressing itself through the soul of a Human
Being.
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