9.28.99 COLUMBUS (Associated Press)

After a week of silence after Walt Meadornack's announcement of the end of his trailblazing rogue's gallery of rebel musicians, founding member Slippy Breadstick publicly issued a statement of his position in the new landscape of sonic debauchery sure to follow the group's breakup:

After years of trying to justify noise as information, the self-destructive path of Walt Meadornack and His All-Stars has stopped at the edge of the Cliff of Mortal Altitude.

Many of my compatriots have taken the fatal step off of that edge, either in a spirit of idealistic dedication, honor and loyalty, or perhaps more accuratley just slipped and fell off whilst goofing around. Rest assurred, friends, Slippy Breadstick has not taken this step.

Walt Meadornack was the first to take the dive- some say to lead the All-Stars into legend and martyr-dumb. Those who know Walt as well as I do would not imply such foolishness. Walt Meadornack is cleaning house.

Many events have led up to this neccessary reduction, but the one epic failure that dotted the i's and crossed the t's on the All-Stars death certificate was the potentially grande endeavor known as Disaster Composers. This project required EVERY All-Stars participation- no matter how geographicaly isolated from the rest of the group they were. Every player was at least expected to compose a piece, in any way that they saw fit, for the rest of the group to perform.

Needless to say, not everyone pulled through. Even normally enthusiastic contributors, like Robbie Hartferson, proved to be most non-cooperative towards the project. Worst of all, Walt could not even round up enough members together to perform the few pieces that we had. Walt had no choice but to cut the fat and make candles of it.

Slippy Breadstick's composition, known as "Slippy Breadstick's Compostion", was completed first and was ready to play months before Walt made his monumental decision public. You can ask my attorneys. I was on task from the start, and prepared to play the pieces, if Walt had ever gotten around to asking me. The rumors that I was spending fourteen hours a day in a sensory depravation chamber are untrue. It was more like twenty, but Walt could have contacted me at any time. And Walt had my Disaster Composition in his possession only weeks after i completed writing it, as well as works from at least three other All-Stars, to my knowledge.

In my "absence", Walt and Donnie Maleriamax undertook several projects in the last months. "Keyboards Suck" was a real stinker, but the others were quite brilliant, and I was very disappointed that I was not able to contribute.

Another factor in Walt's Moratoreum on Revolutionary Activity could be the poor sales of "Sweetness", the All-Stars' first Commercial endeavor. With Donnie's coaxing, it seemed that Walt was ready to infiltrate the popular music scene, and released the newly recorded "Sweetness" (which featured only Walt and Donnie). One might think that Walt had gone mad with grandure, but he knew his limitations from the start. Only five copies of "Sweetness" were printed and were only availbale in one very select record store. The five copies sold quickly, but were returned without receipt even quicker.

Of course, one of the worst situations of the season was the disappearance of the Wandering Tape. Despite what Charles Lift might have been whispering, I do NOT have the traveling phantom recording in my possesion, nor do I have any solid evidence of its current where-abouts. If you ask me though, Bobbi Leshmaltfe is probably hiding it in a characteristically sour fashion, with the hopes to one day, when all memory of it has passed, to stick the tape up her ass and squeeze it into a diamond.

It is truly devastating that Walt chose to extinguish our collection so prematurely, after approximately six years- really, we were just getting started! But I am not all tears. Though there have been many skills I have developed under Walt's minimal tutelage, I imagine there will be many more to learn now that contact with the All-Stars has been severed.

Mainly, I am speaking of social skills. When one spends too much time with Burt Schmartzky, one will find one's self loudly clearing phlegm from thier throat at the most inappropraite of times. And Bobbi Leshamltfe's sour influence will have one indescriminately turning off things that should not be turned off. Then there is Naveen- what a lewd and crass fellow he was!

So, even though I will miss the revolutionary spirit of the group and those fabulous moments of untamed sonic mayhem, I do look forward to returning to my place in society.

What Walt has done is announced to the group and to the world: "Its over. Jump off the cliff and I'll give you a dollar." And everyone jumped into dismal inactivity. Mostly, everyone had jumped before Walt even had a chance to give the order. The path of the All-Stars is a totem of indeterminacy.

Perhaps I am being a moronic romantic by standing my ground, but I have not taken the leap into the pit of legendary apathy. I've chosen to stand at the edge and keep myself busy, always expecting that the next moment, Walt will peek his head out from behind some rock and proclaim with as much conviction as one can when only speaking out of one side of thier mouth: "Hey, Slippy. Just kidding. Lets go put an oboe in a woodchipper."

It may never happen. I may never hear from Walt ever again. But I promise to keep working anyway. At least until the leak in my tank is fixed.

-Slippy Breadstick

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