Produced and arranged by David E. Williams
Mixed, mastered and partially reconstructed by David E. Williams and Jerome Deppe at Ashtray Studios, Philadelphia, August 1999
Engineered by Barrie Maguire

All tracks were recorded live at Philadelphia Dark Harvest II Festival 26 October 1996

Musicians: Rozz Williams (vocals), David E. Williams (keyboards & background vocals), Jerome Deppe (guitar & background vocals),
            Ken Brune (saxaphone), Lou Pepe (accordian)

This CD documents a one-time live performance collaboration between Rozz Williams, myself, and my backup band of Jerome Deppe, Ken Brune and Lou Pepe. It was recorded in 1996, just before Halloween, in Philadelphia, Pennysylvania.

I think you'll agree that it trancends the limitations of the "posthumous dead rock star live record," offering listeners a portrait of Rozz Williams that few have seen or heard. If you're looking for a moribund Christian Death bootleg, look elsewhere.

Rozz's song selection for the evening was fuelled by neither a half-hearted attempt at fulfilling his rock star promise (these attempts usually met with near pathological salt-sabotage anyway) nor by his need to enthrall a cultish entourage that was always demanding DEEPER, DARKER and MORE OBSCENE (usually at a cost to Rozz's personal sanity and safety).

No, Rozz chose these songs simply because he felt like singing them, a desire easily recognized by any geek who's ever plugged in a guitar amplifier in his parent's garage. And... behind the pancake makeup and the terrifying Grand Guignol... Rozz was that geek. Oh, he may have been 6 years old at the time, but there he was, back in the corner by the taxidermy, singing the words to Bad Company's first album or even worse.

To be sure, the enclosed CD does  include new electro-symphonic versions of Christian Death classics like "Cavity" and "When I Was Bed." And it concludes with the harrowing noise/spoken word nightmare of "Mindfuck (Soundtrack to a Murder)." But the remainder finds Rozz blitzkrieging gracefully through some pretty unusual scorched earth. There's a song from Cabaret, asong made popular by Mama Cass, and asong that I personally wrote about giving head to a stormtrooper. (Rozz once confessed that he enjoyed masturbating to this song. It's the best review I've ever gotten!)

Most profound, perhaps, is Rozz's performance of 10CC's 70's pop classic "I'm Not in Love". Rozz infuses this decadent lothario's lament with the same dark passion that floods his own tragic compositions. It's very, very sad.

The original set list also included selections from Abba, Nico and even an updated rendition of "Romeo's Distress," a song that Rozz had avoided playing live for years. That the world will never hear these artworks is a testament to the malignant power of cowardice andcultural ignorance. Rozz's employment of a rather obvious prop (obvious to us at least, and most likely to all of you reading this text) during "Tomorrow Belongs to Me" was used as an excuse by asshole bouncers and an expoitive promoter to end the performance early amid great hubbub and handwringing. The promoter actually ran on stage and divorced himself completely from any complicity in Rozz's performance; he practically apologized for inviting the Beast Rozz Williams to placid, loving Philadelphia. (No stranger to the terrorism of the politically correct, Rozz amused to learn later that the "righteous indignation" of the bouncers may have been encouraged by their alleged stomping in a recent rumble with even stupider skinheads.)

So there you are... a great performance or an outrage. As with all things, let history judge.

When Rozz died in 1998, he was greeted in the afterlife by poet namesakes William Burroughs and William Carlos Williams. The three exchanged pleasantries, trifling over writing techniques, but as one might expect, Rozz soon went looking for Adolf Hitler and Jeffrey Dahmer. To this day, he entertains both of them over vodka and cigarettes in the one thousand three hundred and thirty forth circle of Hell.

We should all be so lucky.

Dein Leiber Bruder,

David E. Williams

January 2003
Philadelphia