One 2003 summer evening, I was having dinner at my mother’s house when Genesis P Orridge called me on my flip phone. I had sent their management a request to talk to them a few weeks earlier, wanting to discuss a new biography that was reportedly in the works, but I hadn’t heard back since. S/he called me up with a simple “Hey, Stefaan? It’s Genesis!” and my simple reaction: “Oh, shit! How are you?” prompted a conversation about their recent surgeries, drugs, plains of reality, sex and love. I walked around my mother’s garden and we talked for more than an hour. When I made them laugh, they berated me: “Aw, shit I can’t laugh like this! My stitches!” They explained to me they just had surgery. They didn’t explain they were having breast implants to become a new, united being with their wife, Lady Jane. I explained to them I wasn’t recording our call for an article since they caught me off guard at my mother’s house, but they were happy to talk anyway. When it started getting dark and chilly out in the garden, we said our goodbyes.

Genesis: “This was great, Stefaan. I needed this. Are you sure we don’t know each other? Maybe we met years ago?”

Me: “Pretty sure. I’m not that old, you know. Not like you, I mean.”

Genesis: “Ha! Cheeky. Well, I’m not so sure. Maybe we met in another life. I feel like I know you. I guess you’re an old soul.”

I hung up feeling good about the conversation, even though it would be lost forever.

In the years since, I kept up with their projects, pains and struggles, but never tried to contact them again. Genesis’ status as a cultural shifter grew, so did the controversy. Now they are transformed again, out of reach. The music and art remains. Let’s re-MIND ourselves and listen.

Tribute mix by Alessandro Adriani / Mannequin Records.

Image above: COUM poster, featuring Genesis P Orridge as a boy.