Fort Myers musician survives to become prolific

EVAN WILLIAMS/FLORIDA WEEKLY Alexander Jenkins creates dramatic songs that are often long, brooding and defined by Jenkins' signature style of bass guitar. Alexander Jenkins has a muse grounded in dark memories, like the death of his parents and drinking to black out.

It culminated in various arrests and a motorcycle crash near Lake Okeechobee five years ago that left him with lingering aches and partially toothless.

But he looks Keith Richards-tough in a doorag and sunglasses. And his recovery has been grounded in song writing.

"My mind drifts in and out with the music," he said. "And it feels good."

The songwriter and musician known on the Web as "Gasserpe," said he'd been ripped on booze for significant parts of the last two decades, but survived his wild days and left them behind.

Now, in lieu of downing a bottle of vodka, he creates dramatic songs that are often long, brooding and defined by Jenkins' signature style of bass guitar.

"It's called 'blood bass' because some of my textures and tones are rich and dark," he said. "You've gotta colorize your music. It's like making a drawing. You have to add textures."

In spirit, the music is not unlike back-porch, homemade blues — but with a heavy dose of "ambient-trance-jazz-metal." The songs rumble with bass, but are balanced by electric piano notes, the static sound of a radio tuner, whispers, tinkling bells and other effects.

And recently, Jenkins has been prolific. Since 2006, he has recorded master discs of 22 full-length albums and hundreds of singles, on equipment that fills a trailer home about the size of a school bus, in East Fort Myers.

(This space is shared with his son, who has four albums of his own.)

Inside he is an electric keyboard, microphone and Jenkins bass guitar, all of which he uses to record loops, which are arranged on a desktop computer.

"This is music that's never been done before," he said, "Imagine yourself aboard a space craft, going through time and space to some other universe; and you're on there; then I would be your ship's music."

And some songs represent happy memories, such as a past living room where Jenkins' father played classical piano to six siblings. Or his childhood summers spent in Chicago with his aunt and uncle. That was a two-hour drive from where Jenkins' grew up in Appleton, Wis., just north of Milwaukee.

He loved riding on the "L" trains.

"When I was little I thought I owned that place," he said. "I wish Chicago was here. I felt like Chicago was really me."

He made some classical music recordings years ago (which he said were destroyed in a fire) and later played bass in a death metal band at Texas A & M University. Jenkins said he majored in law and dropped out during his junior year.

"I started becoming what I'd seen in the mosh pit," he said. "People hitting each other over the head with bottles. The lyrics were gross. The stacks of amps, the people dressed up in evil costumes. It's not for me anymore."

His influences are wide ranging, though. The Woodstock music festival made a huge impression on his work, and rock/funk groups like Tool and the Red Hot Chili Peppers inspired his bass lines. He doesn't like country music or rap, but admires the tenacity of artists such as Willie Nelson and Eminem. And Frank Zappa may be his all-time favorite.

"He took music elements — jazz, classical, rock, big band or whatever — and he tore it apart," Jenkins said of the leader of the Mothers of Invention. "I wanna take it one step further than he did."

So when Jenkins isn't doing odd jobs, like power-washing trailer homes, he creates new songs or manages about 100 Web sites that promote his compositions.

"I probably have millions of dollars worth of music here," he said. "For movies, commercials, trance clubs. And I guard them with my life."

But it's been hard promoting his work. It's rarely heard off the Web, yet he has been played by at least one Los Angeles radio station, 92.5 KYHY.

"For people to come across my music is a forever waiting game," Jenkins said. "It's something you just start and don't finish. Even if you never get a record contract, you keep doing it."

He counts on getting that contract one day, and moving to a house, with his own studio.

"I'm for real," Jenkins said. "I don't play games. I feel this music will take off once it gets to the right hands. And down the road, I'd like to help other poor musicians like me. I don't care if it's rap, hip-hop — if they wanna come to my studio and they're down on their luck, I'll help them."

Jenkins sits outside his home in the evening, under a Brazilian fig tree. He lights a Marlboro and considers the future.

"I just ask that they write 'Thanks, Alex,' on the back of the album somewhere," he said.