It took quite a bit of time to locate Anthony and gain his seat on the Three Cities drum throne. No, seriously, it took eighteen days locating him deep within the forests of Indiana to find him bunkered down in a man made earthen shelter in which he called his home. And as if that wasn’t a most difficult feat already, convincing him to return to the society that beat him down musically and led him astray, forcing him to take refuge into the woodland, would require more of a task for Terel and Barry. A task that required them both to spend three nights conversing over a smoky campfire, which he referred to as his hearth of life, in an effort to explain the theory behind the vision of the music that Barry held within his mind, not an easy undertaking when the man on the other side of the fire is a self taught banger of the skins. And a banger he was.
His style of drumming would bring a new meaning to the phrase “Balls to the Wall” that when you heard him play you would literally be convinced to place your balls against the wall! Even the fairest of a lady would make attempt! But after vast amounts of roasted squirrel and homemade wine and tales of the old and remembering better days, as well as worse, a light began to flicker. And from the bottom of a clay formed jug rest the last sip of the finest moonshine in the forest. And with that last sip swallowed by Anthony, the light that once flickered became a fiery flame which restored his faith in Rock N’ Roll once more! Terel and Barry raised their fists in glory, finished the last of the roasted quail and returned with Anthony back into the kingdom of electricity and amplitude beginning a new quest to ROCK…together, once more!