ToM.

Stale beer smell in the air, sticky steps everywhere you walk. The ground and the air are filled with a mixture of grungy and energized elements one can never seem to put their finger on. Such a simple feeling to behold, yet hard to capture with the proper expressive words. The smoke filled the barroom, it took your breath away, in more ways than one. In this surreal, translucent place where the boastful, arrogance of intoxicated folks conversations wafted in and out. Small, strange, pieces of chatter come through the sensory overload that is engulfing all five senses in a blitz of music, bizarre small talk, cigarette smoke that could be tasted even in the nonsmoker.

The feel of the “Double OO Pub” in the late 2000’s was a curious concoction of punks, goths, rebels, straight laced, (the term is to be worn loosely) regulars from the neighborhood, and some of the most creative musicians to ever tear up a dive bar stage. This setting is where I first met a cat named Tom.

I played the “Double OO” many times with my band, I spent many nights just there as a spectator. This did not matter at all to me, I enjoyed the atmosphere, the experiences, the personalities, the personalities were bigger than life. They were polished punks of old, and the unpolished young punks. This particular night one act was isolated, my awareness focused in and all the idle sounds of the night faded out. When asked “who’s this?” The reply was Tommy Death-cat.

Tom, as he introduced himself, after I approached to compliment him on a set well played. He was young, he was rough around the edges, his music was raw. Some people in attendance didn’t feel it, but more of the room did. I was one of the latter, we were in the majority. His set was real, he was animated, powerful; his emotion, and passion for his music won the day. I knew, because his fire for what he created, said what it was. In time he would find his place within and the creation would overtake him. If this kid stuck it out in the grimy, dark streets of the dive bar scene, grinding, and refining his art; if he was a true artist as I saw that night he would leave his mark. But then I got married and moved to the place that was the farthest from. Like Luke Skywalker that is how I felt. Lost track of time as raising a family was a daily gig.

After the chains of bondage were broken, and that monstrous gray gate opened I was free, others call it divorce. Moved back to civilization, (the term is to be worn loosely, never forget that.) I started getting back into the scene and connecting and reconnecting with those shadows of my past and young up and coming artists in the community. Then I spotted an alley cat, big and golden. He strutted the yard and the block patrolling and controlling. Like some real world Heathcliff in ghetto alleys. But that tomcat triggered my thoughts to another crazy cat.

Whatever happened to Tommy Death-cat? Fast forward a decade-ish, give or take. He was easy to find on social media, I was correct Tom was still out here making his mark. His spirit unbroken, producing content for the world, I recognized his unconventional style. Tom’s out of the ordinary approach was extraordinary, his visual concepts manifested not only in his music but were now instituted in his application of filmmaking. I was delighted to see his progression after so many years elapsed. Well pleased is how I felt reconnecting with this kid from my past, who had grown into manhood, Tom was not only Death Cat, but Vlad Cat and Count Cat of Castle Cat TV.

Continued music legacy of Death Cat was alive and well, hell the band is thriving. They are jamming on the regular and they are everywhere. Added to his artistic outlets Tom has developed into a filmmaker and has an independent film company called Planet 9 Films. Along with his own inspired creations, Tom has built up ‘Planet 9 Film Festival, an independent festival that features unique & interesting films made by people from all over the world. The festival focuses on themes of originality, sci-fi, horror, experimental & consciousness. The festival was created by indie filmmakers as a means to build community & connection among lesser known indie/DIY filmmakers.’

I was pleased to be able to attend this past year's event, it was a fascinating mash up of sci-fi, the twisted, macabre, charity, community and a cross section of art, film, music and more. The single word that comes to mind, had I found myself in need of just a single word to describe the festival and Tom in general is gonzo. No matter the weather, Tom gets it done, he makes it happen; Tom is a creative force in the Detroit and Los Angeles areas respectively, that comes at you in a tumultuous cyclone of ideas, objectives, intentions and design that ultimately generates very intense, vivid manifestations of surreal art for your senses of hearing and visual delight.

Not only have I reconnected with Tom as a true believer, friend and fan of his work, I have found myself caught up in his roller-coaster of turbulent, chaotic and unrestrained, frenzied whirlwind of film formation. He is a very unassuming producer and director, he leads by example. He moves with an awkward grace as he directs his players. Never barks orders, as well he is a cat, but more importantly because he appreciates those around him, those that give their time to help his cause; which like it or not is the cause of all human emotion, art.

Was that kid from so many years ago just bashful? Unassertive? Insecure? When he introduced himself plainly and directly as: Tom. I will never be sure what it was that day, but Tom aka Count Cat has become an amazingly proficient virtuoso in his artforms, his talents are unbound and his energy is chaos that keeps the train moving by his own steam. He is a the bastard child of Ed Wood and Tim Burton with traces of the strange, vague, phantoms of horrors golden era of fiends such as Karloff, Bela and Lon.

So whatever you take from words about this independent musician, artist and filmmaker. I ask you to at the bare minimum check out his works and show him some support. In another few decades, looking back you will regretfully feel a sense of loss if you miss out on what Tom is doing in this special corner of time here in Detroit and out in L. A. Don’t look back, be here now.