KMFDM - SUCKS

 

FACTORY INTERNATIONAL

KMFDM – SUCKS

Wax Trax! Records

 

            It’s 3:00 am and I am at the Guarapillo Hotel in Costa Rica. I should get some sleep because my plane leaves at 8:30 am. But I cannot wrap my head around the events of the last hour, nor of the strange man who just left my room.

            About and hour ago, I was deep in slumberland dreaming I was feeding Bette Midler’s cat when a heavy knocking came from the door. I awoke bleary-eyed and stumbled to the hotel door.

            “Who is it?” I asked.

            “Room service,” a cheerful, and heavily accented voice responded from the other side of the portal. “I have a delivery for Mr. David Zayas.”

            I yawned as I opened the door, but I was cut off mid-yawn by the feeling of cold steel entering my mouth. The stranger at the door had shoved the muzzle of his gun deep in my mouth. My heart froze, my bladder loosened, and I felt a tiny stream of warm liquid race down my left leg.

            The stranger entered the room completely and kicked the door closed behind him. At 5’6, he was shorter than I am, and non-descript in appearance. He had one of those faces that, although not necessarily ugly, wouldn’t stand out in a crowd. It was apparent that he was of Latino descent, maybe even a Costa Rican resident. His jet-black hair stood in sharp contrast to his clear green eyes, which now stared into mine and threatened to swallow me hole.

            He pulled the spit-soaked gun from my mouth, and with an evil leer, he waved the gun in a gesture for me to sit down on the edge of the bed. He sat on the low dresser across from me, and still levelling the gun at my head, he asked: “You will tell me what your mission is and what you transported into my county. You will tell me in detail and in truth. Speak now.”

            I bit my lower lip and stared back at him. What the hell was the talking about? I squeezed my legs together and ran a hand through my hair. I didn’t know what to say. I know that if I told him the truth, he wouldn’t believe me. Characters like him never do. But I couldn’t lie either. I was stuck. I chose to tell him the truth.

            “I… I don’t really know what you are talking about,” I began. “I mean, what do you mean ‘mission’? I’m just a courier.”

            He cocked his gun.

            “Hey!” I said and stretched out my arms, palms open, towards him. “Hey! Uh... wait a minute! Listen, I will tell you everything. Just give me a moment. Come on!”

            He just stared at me. I swear his eyes were smiling. He crossed his legs in an effeminate way, causing his pants’ leg to raise, revealing he was wearing no socks under his dress shoes. I don’t know why, but this made me even more nervous.

            “I… My name is David. But you already knew that. I’m a student at Kean College. I’m studying to be a teacher.”

            The stranger laughed at that. And it pissed me off a bit.

            I swallowed my anger and continued: “I got fed up with life in the States and my girlfriend left me. So, I decided to get away from New Jersey for a while. I became an air courier. I transport objects from one country to another, so I get to travel for next to nothing. It’s just a summer thing. I got this idea from a book I found at my newspaper’s office.”

            The man looked puzzled.

            “What newspaper office?” he asked. “What do you mean?”

            “I write articles for my college newspaper,” I said and lowered my hands back down and rested them on my knees. “I write about music and my life.”

            “Boring!” he smiled. “And what did you transport into my country? That is where my interest lies.”

            “Oh that!” I relaxed a little. “It was nothing. I was delivering a briefcase containing three CDs of the new KMFDM single to the Disco Loco record shop in San Jose. They want to sample it before they place and order from it.”

            “What is this KDFBM?” the gunman asked.

            “KMFDM,” I corrected him. “They are a German music group. They make very hard dance music. They had a couple of hits with “Naïve” and “Sex on the Flag” in the past years. Rumor had it that they were going to break up. But they surprised us all with this new single “Sucks.”

            “I am not surprised,” he said. “Do you know why?”

            “Why?” I asked, scratching my leg.

            “Because I do not care!” he said with rising anger. “I never heard of them. So, don’t they surprised us all because I was not surprised!”

            His sudden outburst frightened me. I leaned back on the bed and put my hands up once again. “Ok. Ok. I am sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you!”

            He jumped down from the dresser and, with the gun still aimed at my head, proceeded to kick around at the objects in my room. I presumed he was looking for something, but I didn’t know exactly what.

            As he searched, he said: “So what does this KMRTM song sound like?”

            “It’s KMFDM, man” I said, a little irritated. “The song ‘Sucks’ is a fast-paced dance song. The song samples a heavy metal riff, just like they did with their prior hit ‘Godlike’, but the guitar riff is not the primary attraction in ‘Sucks’; it’s the lyrics.

            “The song puts down just about everybody. They profess their hatred of rap, Michael Jackson, Madonna, and, of course, Depeche Mode. They also poke fun at themselves saying that their own music is worthless. The whole message of the song is to point out artificiality current musicians, and the fact that kids nowadays still buy their music even though it sucks.  

            “The single has four slightly repetitive remixes of ‘Sucks’ and one dance remix of their older track ‘More and Faster’. I prefer this mix to the original because it has a more accessible dance beat, and less focus is placed on the screeching guitars that dominated the earlier version.”

            Throughout my monologue, the stranger continued to search the room. By the time I was done, he had moved toward the door. He opened the door and turned to look back at me, his gun still levelled at me, but now he held it at hip level.

            “It is appropriate that you were transporting that song ‘Sucks’,” he said. “Because your review of it sucks.”

            “Yeah, but you listened, didn’t you?” I smiled. “That is exactly the point the song makes. Most people are subconsciously attracted to garbage. Even though they may not like it, they will get a good look before they turn away. Like passing an accident on the highway…”

            “Yes, Yes,” he said, annoyed. “I heard that one. Do you want to have an accident?”

            I swallowed hard. “No,” I said in a tiny voice.

            “Then forget we ever met,” he said. “Tell no one of our meeting. Go about your normal business as if nothing has happened.”

            With the gun now aimed to the ground, he backed out of the door and into the darkness of the hallway.

            From the down the hall, I heard his final words: “And listen to better music like Springsteen or the Bee Gees, because KMFDM sucks!”