Credit: Willie G. (writer), Justin Borucki (photographer)
“I wish I had some good stories to tell about all this shit,” says Slaine, a slight air of humor in his voice. “But it’s a running joke that I collect bad tattoos. My first one was, like, eight or nine years ago at a party. I was drunk and got ‘Slaine’ done. But the dude was, like, doped up on heroin or Oxycontin or something, and when he started this cross on my other arm he was nodding off. I was like, ‘What the fuck?’ and stopped in the middle. It’s still unfinished. But I had a melanoma scare about a year ago so I have to wait a while before doing anything else.”
“My first was a Mickey Mouse head and the letters MMC,” exclaims Danny. “We had this punk rock gang in southern California called Mickey Mouse Club. I was 16 and got it on Hollywood Boulevard from some Chinese lady that used to tattoo all the underage kids. Since then I’ve been all over the planet. My favorite artists are without a doubt Mark Mahoney, who did the Al Capone on my stomach, my other boy Baba at Vintage Tattoo, who’s done most of my work, and, of course, Hanky Panky out in Amsterdam. I’m starting to look like a gypsy—like Brad Pitt in Snatch.”
Everlast cosigns on all of Danny’s name-drops, adding Guy Aitchison, Kevin Quinn, and Bob Vessels to his preferred list of artists before addressing his most well-known work, the half sleeve that took center stage on House of Pain’s first album cover. “I don’t even remember the dude’s name. It was that bad. It started with just the ‘Erik’ part. I don’t want to say it was a drunken decision, but I was definitely impaired. It was a good thing, though, ’cause it made me think about all my other tattoo choices a bit more.”
Then there’s Bill, whose imposing stature is still an untouched canvas, but not without good reason. “Growing up as a Jewish kid, tattoos just weren’t the thing. Not that they weren’t my thing, but just not the thing in general. Now in adulthood, I got Jewish homeboys with the Star of David tattooed on their face, so … what the fuck, you know? Who’s right? Now it’s close to four decades later and I still haven’t done it. Maybe I’ll get one tomorrow. Probably not, though.”
Though decisively undecided on the topic of ink, Bill is quick to get back to the topic of work, breaking down the group’s future with clarity. “We’ll definitely be working on another album,” he firmly states. “People jump in, jump out for their solo shit—that’s what makes La Coka Nostra difficult at times to work with. But in the same respect it adds to what we are.”
In his gruff voice, Slaine eagerly chimes in on the breakdown. “We’re like Wu Tang. After this you could have an Ill Bill album, a Slaine album, an Everlast joint, then, just when you ain’t ready—bang, another La Coka record. You don’t know what’s coming next.”
Though decisively undecided on the topic of ink, Bill is quick to get back to the topic of work, breaking down the group’s future with clarity. “We’ll definitely be working on another album,” he firmly states. “People jump in, jump out for their solo shit—that’s what makes La Coka Nostra difficult at times to work with. But in the same respect it adds to what we are.”
In his gruff voice, Slaine eagerly chimes in on the breakdown. “We’re like Wu Tang. After this you could have an Ill Bill album, a Slaine album, an Everlast joint, then, just when you ain’t ready—bang, another La Coka record. You don’t know what’s coming next.”
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