21 September 19 - 25, 2024 dallasobserver.com DALLAS OBSERVER Classified | MusiC | dish | Culture | unfair Park | Contents “dangerous, snarling, shocking and some- times God-awful,” in his underwear. Unleashing the Rock Beast C rimaldi does his best to unleash dan- gerous, snarling and shocking rock ‘n’ roll in late July in front of a kaleido- scope of colors that spiral on the wall be- hind him on the side patio of Tom Daiquiris. A few members of Norah Jonestown Mas- cara join him, including Cerda on guitar, Smith on bass, keyboardist Shane Abel and Charles Tomohiro Hanson, aka “Tomo” from the Wee Beasties, who wears blue framed sunglasses, his long dark hair in braids, and plays a trumpet as if Miles Davis had possessed him for the night. They’re improvising this Friday night since singer and multi-instrumentalist Trent Reeves left the band. They’re using a revolving lineup of singers that includes Cerda and Smith, and a couple of bands are also on the bill to play, including Hen and the Cocks, a local punk band, and Neon Lemon, a psychedelic band from Austin. The White Wizard approaches the mi- crophone. In a black beret and glasses with round red lenses, Brooks wears a leopard print dress top and black skirt. He holds lyr- ics to “Hey Hey We’re the Monkees,” a band that was popular in the 1960s when he was young. Brooks struggles to cast a spell on the growing crowd with Crimaldi and company. They’re somewhat off-key until Tomo picks up a tambourine and begins singing with him. Others join in. They sync up, and the audience become believers and cheer Brooks after the song. It amplifies when JoAnn Henkel from Hen and the Cocks takes her turn on the mic for a Norah Jonestown performance that showcases what the band could become with the right singer feeling their groove. Despite the road bump with the singer, life seems good for the Rock Philosopher as the Tape Slam tour approaches. Crimaldi mentioned that he wants to reconnect with his estranged brother in October when the tour stops in New Jersey. They had a falling out in 2019. Crimaldi had been living with him when he returned home from Thailand in 2017 for cataract surgery. But all is not right for Crimaldi at the White Wizard’s place where he’d been crashing for a few weeks. It had become the land of Mordor for Crimaldi, in part due to creative differences. A few weeks later, Crimaldi is escaping the triple-digit temperatures at the library, the university and the local bars during the day and evening. At night, he finds refuge in spots known only to those who have spent time on the streets. “There are guardian angels in my life and, truthfully, everyone I ever lived with here is one of them,” Crimaldi says. “I have sur- vived on the kindness of others for a long time.” Crimaldi had a meeting with the Salva- tion Army to learn about his options for re- placing his ID for the upcoming tour. Homeless advocates say it’s the first thing people lose when they become unhoused. The several weeks’ wait to get it isn’t ideal. He’s not sure if he’ll be able to replace it. “The last five days have been really bi- zarre,” Crimaldi writes in an early August message. “Times like this you realize who your friends are. I suffer for my obsession. Trying to sell the drums now.” It’s a five-piece Gretsch Energy drum kit with Zildjian Planet Z cymbals, he wrote in a Facebook post. He listed it for $500. He’s also booking shows again. He wants to do a small DIY music fest in Wichita Falls in the spring. He’d recently played a couple of shows there with Electric Mayhem. He’s searching for a place that allows camping. He figures a few hundred people max. “Numbers don’t matter more than inti- macy,” he says. Porta Potties would be ideal. Toasty Bros, a local beer maker, is also about to drop another batch of the “Rock Philosopher Undead Ale.” “I shared the idea with Toast along with short narratives about the magical proper- ties of the beer and how the undead would use it against the humans,” Crimaldi writes in an email. “I spent quite a lot of time imag- ining silly camp narratives around beer.” Launched in 2020, the undead ale sold well in many bars downtown, Crimaldi says: “The words, when put together, have a fun mystery. The skull is iconic. It was a winning formula.” But not enough to keep him from the streets. Morgan Loftin from Denton Music and Arts Collaborative (DMAC), a local non- profit that helps subsidize healthcare cover- age for musicians, says she has received messages from musicians like Crimaldi who have lost their jobs and were in the midst of homelessness. But the nonprofit doesn’t of- fer a program for housing. It can barely sub- sidize healthcare coverage for 70 musicians. “Right now, we are capped and struggling to get enough donations to cover our operat- ing expenses,” Loftin says. Cerda, who has lived in Denton for 10 years, is one of those musicians who has tried to get help from DMAC. Though he isn’t homeless like Crimaldi, he and other musicians have been struggling to find af- fordable rent in a city once known for it. “I used to be able to work a full-time job at Domino’s and pay my rent on a two-bed- room apartment with another person, which was about $400 each,” Cerda says. “Nowadays I have a studio apartment at $1,200. I’m living by myself and self-em- ployed [fixing amps and guitars]. I find as much work as possible to keep my head above the water and my ass off the street and to make the rent check.” Crimaldi doesn’t think of himself as homeless. He’s more like the buskers who pass through Denton long enough to earn money by playing on the square. Except Crimaldi’s stop has lasted longer than ex- pected. He worked for about a year at a fac- tory on the outskirts of town, but as Loftin points out, working to afford the high rent and grocery bills while also pursuing music passionately can lead to burnout. “Finding something to work with your schedule as a musician and artist is diffi- cult,” Loftin says. It’s also difficult to find housing when you land on the streets. Most places require a stable rental history, good references and a household income that is three times the high rent. An ID is required, which Crimaldi was fi- nally able to secure. Crimaldi is considering busking for money on the courthouse lawn. He says he just needs to find a way to get his drums from the White Wizard’s house. “Being unsheltered isn’t special,” Crimaldi says. “Plenty of my friends have been there. My own actions have led me here. With it came great things. Let us not forget this is simply my process revealed. No music I am involved in would exist without the very bizarre life choices. … If I can be productive while being unsheltered, maybe that’s a message there for our throwaway so- ciety. “I’m not unhappy, just inconvenienced. This is the way of the Rock Philosopher. We embrace minimalism. Through day-to-day suffering, truth and character are also re- vealed.” Christopher Durbin Crimaldi says he has survived off the kindness of others for a long time. Dream Jobs - Dream Talent Since 1998 THE PLACE TO BE AND BE SEEN Scan Me Baby! D INTERESTED CANDIDATES PLEASE SEND YOUR COVER LETTER AND RESUME TO CHARLIE.DONDLINGER@ DALLASOBSERVER.COM
