The Lost Generation

"That's the weird thing about Mazinga, actually," Dover says. "I was the only person [in the band] who was really into space rock. Everybody else was kinda like, 'Hey, we're getting press, we're doing records, we're doing a tour...'

"On [1997 sophomore album] Abandinallhope there was such a constant tug of war between me, who wanted to really make space rock, really take it out there, and most of the rest of them, who wanted to be more accessible," Dover says. The band even went on to release an album without him, 2000's tepid Dissatisfied Customers of Hallucination, which Dover calls an "abomination."

With the ex-members' blessings, Dover has given the group a second whirl, re-forming and returning the band to his original vision. But like the first go-round, Mazinga Phaser II has already been chaotic. Original Mazinga drummer Travis Williams came back but couldn't stick around after running into legal problems. Original singer Jessica Nelson has been replaced by Dover's fiancée/girlfriend (it's a little vague) Ineka Guerra, a burlesque dancer who has had to modify her cabaret style to fit the band. They still have no bassist.

Yet Dover is undeterred, having already posted two new electro-leaning demos on the band's MySpace page and claiming that other new material veers toward the first two PiL records.

On tap for the new year, besides the upcoming tour and Dover's performance with the ineffable Branca, is a reissue of Mazinga's 1996 debut Cruising in the Neon Glories of the New American Night with a bonus disc of outtakes and vintage live material. Dover's Wild Bull project has multiple albums in the can that have been shipped to national and international IDM labels. Dover has begun cross-country songwriting sessions and tape swaps with likeminded noisers Jackie-O Motherfucker. The Black Arm Band plans to gig heavily in the spring, the monthly Laptop Deathmatch is still going strong and the DJ gig has expanded to a second night (Thursdays at Elm Street Bar), helping Dover pay the bills and giving him another pulpit from which to spread his tangential musical doctrine.

"I'm in my 30s, and I feel like I wasted my 20s," Dover says, but he's wrong. Few local musicians stirred up as much electricity as Dover in his 20s, particularly during his years in Denton, yet at this point it might be naught but a prelude to his roaring Dallas 30s. Even if the town he hates wanted to ignore him, his numerous projects, outspoken demeanor and artistic drive make that impossible. Here's hoping you've found your Lost Generation, Wanz.