Where do your roots lie?
Diter: We have our roots in hard-edge dance music. We like Die Warzau, Skinny Puppy, old Sisters. We feel that today’s ska is very repetetive, it doesn’t do justice to the jazz roots it comes from. Instead of the shick-it-up, pick-it-up, stick-it-up we prefer to say whip-it-out, stick-it-in, wipe-it-off, shove-it-in. We like to, how you say, incorporate the sexual attitude of ska. See, the way we see it is, who needs horns? You know, I dunno, we don’t need them, why do you? You, you need the horny, this Goldfinger, what is it? We give you the black rockin fuck you uppin rock beats. Be sure of it, it is ska, you must listen to it!
How’s the Lithuanian ska scene?
D: Most of the scene, it is waiting on line for bread. There is no ska, what do you think this is? America? We live in poverty, we wait in line for bread, we have to trumpet, what is trumpet? We have bent pieces of shrapnel from war that we blow into. It sounds not good, it sound rough. We have no drums, we have no fred perry skinhead, we have ripped up clothing, we have no socks. We have no zines, we have no Kinkos. We have Rutsko’s, and it’s fifty dulkas for a copy. One copy! Fifty dulkas! You kiss my ass Rutsko’s!
Would you like to tour America?
D: We will tour AMERICA! We will take America by storm! Watch out for your children, we will ride with the spirit of Desmond Deacres, your petty American youth will throw their pork pies away. They will instead wear lice-infested hat and torn-up glove which is the symbol of Lithuanian ska. There is no “Two-Tone” in Lithuania, there is One-Tone, gray. They gray in front… hey stupid! Stupid! Yes, you, are you listening to me?! We will control Mother Ska in America, we will destroy your network. We don’t have “Moon Ska,” we have Hazy Factory Output Ska. Very humid, radioactive ska. So radioactive, it doesn’t even sound like ska. It’s a buzzing, a nonstop buzzing everywhere. So you can’t come to ska shows, you get nauseus from the buzzing. You do not “dance” at Lithuania ska shows, you throw up. We hve no beer in ska, what is Guinness? We drink our own urine, there is nothing else at ska shows. We are no bars at ska shows, hell, there are no ska shows. Our country is one gray mass, there are just dead people laying around. When the truck comes to throw our dead bodies away, we play for truck with our ska. In fact, sometimes we do not play for trucks, we run. They think we’re dead. They come at us with guns, we have no Punk Rock, we have run away from man with gun. There is no scene, our scene is called Survival. Who will be alive tomorrow? You are stupid Americans, rich Americans, worrying about your scene in your big house in your big neighborhood. What is neighborhood to us? We are dying!! There is more to life than go to Wetland show, read a paper. Our scene is getting bread and dying. Maybe our house will blow up today. Fuck you rudeboy idiot, throw away your dinner at the dinner table. We kick the maggots off and eat what we can. There are no bread lines, that is just a myth, there is only gray and we eat it.
Getting back to your music…
D: It sucks, you would hate it. You want to hear nice pretty music, recorded for millions of dulkas in pretty air-conditioned studios. You want to know what our music sounds like? It sounds like the muffler of our death truck. It sounds like an airplane falling on your skull and smashing your brains on the gray. But in a ska way. We do not say hup-hup-hup in our ska, what is hup-hup-hup? We scream Help We Are Dying! Our Children Are Starving! Why are you interviewing us? Are you trying to make your zine worldy and intelligent? Go back to your rich America, your burgeoning ska scene. Leave us to die, you do not care about us. Go buy your clothes in your Avenue A. Get out you swine before I smash you with broken bottle!