When I was with The Beatnigs in the '80s, we were out there naked, and other rebellious acts, that never led me to think it would degenerate into Michael Franti performing for yoga enthusiasts, but that tells you what I was dealing with.
It was the same with Broun Fellinis in the '90s, too, trying to be "spiritual" (or the Broun Salamis) while, by then, real artists were trying to jump ahead of the cultural curve - and not only made it - but, now, determine where and what that is. I was begging the BF's to let's go there. They merely got annoyed, so I left.
What I'm saying is, mine is just a tale of lost potential, where I got thwarted in a sea of NewAge ignorance, at every level of existence. I see it in everything around me: Hell, the son of a bitches even ripped me off for the recording.
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