August 28-September 3, 2003

music

Atom's Last Blast

That was punk: After six years, five albums and hundreds of shows, Atom and His Package will play their last gig Friday night at the Church. Photo By: Michael T. Regan

Why Adam Goren is packing up the Package.

by Patrick Rapa

Last time we talked to Adam Goren, his one-man band, Atom and His Package, was, in its own way, ready to take the world by storm. The kick-ass Attention! Blah Blah Blah was brand-new, and fans were digging his latest funny punk anthems. He was set to pick up his Yamaha QY700 sequencer (the titular "Package") and head first across the U.S., then Europe for back-to-back months-long tours. City Paper put him on the cover. His mom sent us brownies. That was February. In April, things got complicated for Goren. In the span of one week, he learned both that he and his wife were going to have a baby and that he had type 1 diabetes. Now, after six years of rocking Philadelphia with pro-metric-system/pro-grandmother odes and anti-asshole fight songs of all varieties, Goren is playing one final show as Atom and His Package, before he starts thinking comprehensive health insurance, day job and daddyhood. But donít think weíve heard the last of him.…

City Paper: You always said you didn't like your band name. Is this the end?

Adam Goren: I'm not really retiring the Atom and His Package name, unfortunately. I'm just not going to be playing any more shows as Atom and His Package. A terrible name though.

CP: Will there still be A&HP albums?

AG: I'm not really sure. I imagine that I'll always continue to write and record music, and I do love the sequencers and guitars, so I imagine that for a long time I'll continue to write and record songs in this way. So, it is quite possible that there will continue to be records released. But, this show on the 29th will be the last live performance as Atom and His Package.

CP: You're gonna be a father -- haven't you written a song or two about the joys of a child-free lifestyle?

AG: Sort of. There's a song on the last record ["Dear Atom, You Do Not Want Children. Love, Atom" on Attention! Blah Blah Blah] that's kind of about my changing my mind in regard to entering babytown. I used to be very against my having a child. Enough so that I wrote a note to a friend detailing the reasons -- most of them pretty obvious -- why I didn't want children and to remind me of these reasons so I at least had them in mind when I decided to want to have children. I knew I'd change my mind.

CP: Is that maturity setting in?

AG: I suppose it's part of it. I love hanging around with family and I want to make sure that there is always family with whom I can hang around. Health insurance sure sounds very adult-y to me.

CP: You found out about the diabetes and your wife being pregnant just before the six-week European tour. And you still went?

AG: It was a really difficult trip, no doubt. But it was excellent [too]. I got to spend a lot of time with a lot of good friends that I don't get to see often enough. I saw lots of wonderful things, and with the support of my family and friends that I was traveling with, adjusting to the diabetes was doable. I'm really glad that I went because it was really helpful and empowering in retrospect. It was difficult at the time, but I really feel confident that my life will not buckle because of the disease, and I'm still quite capable of doing things that I love to do.

CP: Was there a sense that it was Atom's last tour?

AG: Yes. I had a lot of mixed feelings about it. I feel very lucky that I've been able do the things with Atom and His Package that I've done. A lot of the relationships that I've made are very important to me, and I've seen and experienced wonderful things that I otherwise would not have been able to. There are a lot of things I will miss about touring. Most importantly, I'll miss seeing the friends that I only get to see a few times a year, while traveling.

CP: How'd you find out you had diabetes?

AG: I was unbelievably thirsty, like I could drink five huge glasses of water and still feel totally dry. I was peeing ogre quantities every 45 minutes, and was not sleeping well because I had to get up every hour or so. So, after about a week of this, my dad, who more than conveniently is a doctor who treats people with diabetes, recommended I get a blood test. I am, in fact, giving my pancreas the middle finger right now.

CP: What does it mean for your lifestyle? Diet change?

AG: Not really, though I can't eat really sugary stuff. I've never been a big sweets eater anyway. Basically, it means I have to regulate my blood sugar manually, so I have to inject insulin before I eat -- and judge, depending on the size, and what kind of food to eat, how much insulin to inject -- and once before I go to sleep. I need to make sure it doesn't remain too high because that's when the long-term complications like blindness and some other nasty shit can set in, but when it gets too low, it's really uncomfortable -- sweating, weakness -- and if it's too low, one can faint or go into a coma.

CP: You don't think your dad has a quota he needed to meet, like enlisting new diabetes patients?

AG: It has crossed my mind that he [injected] me with the diabetes. But not for a quota. More for laughs.

CP: Assuming things are regulated, you should be OK, right?

AG: Yes. I am very compulsive, and I'm adjusting OK. And with proper care, the risk for the nasty long-term complications goes way down.

CP: So you are going to get some kind of job with health insurance? Doing what?

AG: Good question. I have a few options, but I'm not sure what I want to do. I want to do something with good people. I'd love to work at the Franklin Institute, I think. There's always tryouts for the Flyers.

CP: They need a goalie, but you're way too small to put your fat-goalie plan, as immortalized in "Goalie" from the 1996 album A Society of People Named Elihu, into effect.

AG: And with the recent diabetes onset, it's going to be more challenging to gain the weight without the sugar. Shit. My options are being pared away!

CP: Tell me about this new live band you've been playing with.

AG: Mike McKee [Kill the Man Who Questions] and I play guitars and sing/yell. Dan Yemin [Paint It Black, Kid Dynamite] plays bass, and Jeff Ziga [Affirmative Action Jackson] plays drums. I really missed playing with humans and writing songs with friends. Though I certainly did not miss carrying amplifiers. I intend on faking hypoglycemic attacks whenever I'm asked to carry anything too heavy, or too far.

CP: Is it a punk sound?

AG: Yep, it's fast and peppy and quirky. Mike's a really cool, quirky guitar player. I saw some really funny "punk" stuff on Sunday.

CP: Tell it.

AG: Brian [Sokel of local band Aspera, Goren's housemate] and I scored tickets to the "Fiend Fest" at the Troc on Sunday, so we saw The Damned and The Misfits. The Misfits are now the original bass player [Jerry Only], with Marky Ramone on drums and Dez from Black Flag on guitar. Brian had driven by the Troc earlier in the day and saw the bass player outside his tour bus pumping iron. He seriously is professional-wrestler-size now, like Hulk Hogan buff. We got on the guest list.

CP: How was the show?

AG: It was insane. Brian and I were/are huge Danzig-era Misfits fans. But, I think that it's probably not too wise to pick on people who are Hulk Hogan-sized, so perhaps I'd better stop there.

CP: Oh go ahead. Is he gonna hit a guy with type 1 diabetes and a child on the way?

AG: It was just really horrible. Definitely made me think that it's probably a good time to hang up the live part of Atom and His Package, and start franchising it out -- for a percentage of the proceeds.

Atom and His Package play a final show Fri., Aug. 29, 7:30 p.m., $8, all ages, with Excelsior and The Zambonis, First Unitarian Church, 22nd and Chestnut sts., 800-594-TIXX.