B Scene Magazine:
Inter view with Randy Harris; Written By Devin Thomas.
Lead Guitarist wanted with flash and ability.
2
Here I am in Room 602 of the Plymouth Inn sat with a warm beer that my host has generously offered me having found it underneath his pillow. I hear Grieg's Piano Concerto In A Minor playing in the background. The floor of the room is covered in cigarette ash, dropped plectrum as well as fresh-faced boy and a blonde headed vixen wrapped up in a sleeping bag together, to which the artist I am here interview tells me not to mind as a tobacco ash Gibson Les Paul rests upright on the coffee table while still plugged into a small practice amplifier that bares the name Laney on the front, it looks as if it's about to keel off its last hinge and drop on the innocent looking pair who are either in a wonderful or sleep or perhaps dead. Randy Harris is the archetypal guitar God. Blurry eyed,. with teased hair, wearing the same attire of which he fashioned on stage the night before that consists of black leather trousers, a leopard skin scarf and a bandanna embroidered with skulls and fire as he turns to the sink in the bathroom to wash the eyeliner from his face. He has the essence of Jim Morrison, Keith Richards and Johnny Thunders locked into his skinny body, or he at least tries his best to emulate his heroes. I smile and think to myself that I must be in some tacky eighties Hair Metal covers band about to go on stage and play to some Motley Crue fans birthday party. I light a cigarette and I let my eyes follow him around the room. He appears hyperactive and unable to sit down as he lights a cigarette and cracks open a can of coke while I switch on the record button of the Dictaphone I carry everywhere with me. "The hardest part is coming off the road". He tells me, I simply nod my head while drawing on my cigarette and prepare myself for another sob story from the heart of another 'rock star' on the plights of re adapting into a strange part of the world. "The first five or six days is suffocating, know what I mean? When your on a big tour your surrounded by a load of people on and off the stage and the eighteen or nineteen people off stage that you see everyday become your family. There's always something going on, always moving, whether Ir's a truck or whatever, then you go home and sit there in your flat and there's nothing, no adrenaline, no noise you just sit their wondering how your suppose to cope. Most of the time I just go back and forth with the fucking news channels or play a bit of guitar, it's like hitting a brick wall, I tell you it is a massive adjustment".