Misfits' Jerry Only on Getting Arrested for Grave Robbing and Sharing Sid Vicious' Last Meal
Photo by Ian Witlen
The Misfits are the blood and guts of punk rock. Founded in Lodi, New Jersey in 1977, the band has grown into a monster of iconic sounds and merchandise ripped from the burning reels of American horror.
Founding member Jerry Only, former Black Flag barker Dez Cadena, and Chupacabra from Murphy's Law form the band's longest-running lineup. They're on their way to kill Miami, and they still live everyday like it's Halloween.
We here at Crossfade caught up with Jerry Only to find out about junkies, death, and grave robbing.
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Crossfade: The Misfits have a Christmas album?
Jerry Only: Yeah, well, we been wanting to do this for a while. The beauty of Christmas music is that you're gonna hear it every year till you and your children die.
You're from New Jersey. Do you think you could kick Bruce Springsteen's ass?
Yeah, I would like to think that. Ahahaha. That's funny.
What was your first time playing down here?
Our first time in South Florida was Hallandale. We had gotten arrested the night before in New Orleans. The charge was grave robbing. We got bailed out of jail. We had a choice to either go to court or keep on with the tour and go play Hallandale. So we chose goin' to the beach.
How'd you catch the charge?
We had just played Tipitina's and we were with our friend Sky, who is about six-foot, eight-inches tall, and weighs 350 pounds. He used to kill people in Afghanistan for money. He used to have us do stuff like unload guns to see who was the fastest with a revolver and shit.
After the show, he was like, "Hey, there's a cemetery around the corner, let's go." It was all these old mausoleums above the ground. These little stone buildings where the bodies rot in a year. We pulled in around 3 or 4 in the morning in this bad section of town where there's a murder every night. Before you know it, the cemetery is surrounded by cop cars, and all I hear is "Hey, Dracula, get your fucking hands up on the wall!" We tried to run, but they flushed us out.
We weren't bein' destructive, just curious. But they weren't playin'. They locked us all up. They stole my German daggers. They took all our cameras and left our vehicles open like we'd been robbed by locals. We spent the night in jail and got the fuck out of town. MTV had just started, and the next day we got a call that we're on TV for grave robbing in New Orleans.
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