Answers to Feral Questions
Feral Mom has also graced me with some questions, which I will now answer.
[A bit of background: Feral Mom and I were in a band together for four and a half years, three years or a bit more as an all-girl power trio, and a year or a bit more as a four piece with a very amiable dude (our drummer’s talented husband) playing second guitar. We put out three CDs and played many, many shows, sometimes to a full crowd at the Metro in Chicago, sometimes to a frigid industrial warehouse full of teenagers in West Lafayette, Indiana, and sometimes to an audience of six or seven at bars in any number of cities.]
1. If you could join any band (past or present) which one would it be?
This is a hard one. There are so many. I think, though, that I can narrow it down to two. For pure songwriting pleasure and the joy of being part of a band that has matured and grown more beautiful over many years, I would have to pick Superchunk. (But only if Mac would let me sing a lot of backing vocals.) For sheer rock energy and kick-ass grrl power all grown up, I would have to pick Sleater-Kinney. I know it’s kind of sacrilegious to suggest that S-K should’ve had a bass player, and I’m not actually saying that they needed one, but I’d love to play bass in that band. I’m not sure what else I have to offer them.
2. You’ve got to start it all over again with a different instrument. Which one will it be?
No question: drums.
3. Name three random things that scare the beejeezus out of you.
Global warming, fundamentalists of all stripes, and beauty pageants for little girls.
4. It’s 1994 and we’re starting a band again. What’s the name of our band and what do we do differently this time?
You know, I really think I’d keep our name. It served us well, and I haven’t thought of any better ones (at least not for that particular band) over the years. Our band name was cute but a little strange, it was pretty abstract except for people who got the reference (a secondary character in a kids’ book about a rowdy, tomboyish little girl), and it was short and sweet. But if I had to pick another name, I’d probably ask O. for guidance. He’s come up with some great band names already, including the Bees, Spaghetti, and the Clock. The Clock! What a great name for a band. I wish I’d thought of it.
I can definitely think of several things I’d do differently. First and foremost, relax and enjoy it. We had a shitload of fun, but I think we took it all too seriously at times, at least I know I did. Second (and this would help with #1): costumes. The shows we played in costume were always the best (the Catholic school kid costumes especially). I think if we’d just had a shtick of wearing matching or themed costumes for every show, it would have helped us loosen up and have more fun. (And somehow I think it would have made the stage banter issue less fraught.) Third, I would have refused to play any show where we were the only non-ska band on the bill. Ska fans, we learned, tend to be very narrow-minded, and they invariably leave as soon as they figure out that no one on stage is wearing plaid and there’s no horns. I love ska (especially actual Jamaican ska), but Midwestern ska fans can suck my musically eclectic left one. Fourth, no touring in the dead of winter. Granted, we were trying to be smart by heading south, and who knew we’d hit Memphis’s only ice storm in living memory. Still, it sucked and I enjoyed the bit of warm weather touring we did much, much more. Five, get a second guitar player much earlier. That took so much pressure off the two of us, and just made things better. (Not Elizabeth Elmore though. God bless her, but I don’t ever want to be in a band with her.)
5. What is your least favorite place in the world?
West Lafayette, Indiana.
[A bit of background: Feral Mom and I were in a band together for four and a half years, three years or a bit more as an all-girl power trio, and a year or a bit more as a four piece with a very amiable dude (our drummer’s talented husband) playing second guitar. We put out three CDs and played many, many shows, sometimes to a full crowd at the Metro in Chicago, sometimes to a frigid industrial warehouse full of teenagers in West Lafayette, Indiana, and sometimes to an audience of six or seven at bars in any number of cities.]
1. If you could join any band (past or present) which one would it be?
This is a hard one. There are so many. I think, though, that I can narrow it down to two. For pure songwriting pleasure and the joy of being part of a band that has matured and grown more beautiful over many years, I would have to pick Superchunk. (But only if Mac would let me sing a lot of backing vocals.) For sheer rock energy and kick-ass grrl power all grown up, I would have to pick Sleater-Kinney. I know it’s kind of sacrilegious to suggest that S-K should’ve had a bass player, and I’m not actually saying that they needed one, but I’d love to play bass in that band. I’m not sure what else I have to offer them.
2. You’ve got to start it all over again with a different instrument. Which one will it be?
No question: drums.
3. Name three random things that scare the beejeezus out of you.
Global warming, fundamentalists of all stripes, and beauty pageants for little girls.
4. It’s 1994 and we’re starting a band again. What’s the name of our band and what do we do differently this time?
You know, I really think I’d keep our name. It served us well, and I haven’t thought of any better ones (at least not for that particular band) over the years. Our band name was cute but a little strange, it was pretty abstract except for people who got the reference (a secondary character in a kids’ book about a rowdy, tomboyish little girl), and it was short and sweet. But if I had to pick another name, I’d probably ask O. for guidance. He’s come up with some great band names already, including the Bees, Spaghetti, and the Clock. The Clock! What a great name for a band. I wish I’d thought of it.
I can definitely think of several things I’d do differently. First and foremost, relax and enjoy it. We had a shitload of fun, but I think we took it all too seriously at times, at least I know I did. Second (and this would help with #1): costumes. The shows we played in costume were always the best (the Catholic school kid costumes especially). I think if we’d just had a shtick of wearing matching or themed costumes for every show, it would have helped us loosen up and have more fun. (And somehow I think it would have made the stage banter issue less fraught.) Third, I would have refused to play any show where we were the only non-ska band on the bill. Ska fans, we learned, tend to be very narrow-minded, and they invariably leave as soon as they figure out that no one on stage is wearing plaid and there’s no horns. I love ska (especially actual Jamaican ska), but Midwestern ska fans can suck my musically eclectic left one. Fourth, no touring in the dead of winter. Granted, we were trying to be smart by heading south, and who knew we’d hit Memphis’s only ice storm in living memory. Still, it sucked and I enjoyed the bit of warm weather touring we did much, much more. Five, get a second guitar player much earlier. That took so much pressure off the two of us, and just made things better. (Not Elizabeth Elmore though. God bless her, but I don’t ever want to be in a band with her.)
5. What is your least favorite place in the world?
West Lafayette, Indiana.
posted by E. | 7:16 PM
5 Comments:
Dude! Great answers. Thanks for thinking about this. I am soooo with you on the things to do differently, especially the costumes. No question that those were the best shows AND the most fun. I REALLY like the Clock, but I think our name suited us well. Other names in contention (Sauce Box, Clam of God, etc) would have sent us down a different path, one in which we might have had to play shows with duct tape over our nipples. In other words, no regrets!
I loved playing in a band with you, even in West Lafayette warehouses, taking pisses in strip clubs. THAT (along with the tour from hell) might be something we consider posting/guest posting about.
After I, you know, finish my paper.
I feel the same way, my feral friend. And I'd be totally up for a guest-posting or collaborative posting thing with some of the highlights and low points of band life.
Yeah, if we'd actually been Clam of God, we definitely would have been obliged to play shows topless with duct-taped nipples. I hope we would have at least had the foresight to apply Vaseline first.
Do you feel like we're having a conversation in public or something?
Dying to know the name of your band. I feel like I may actually have seen you play.
Where'd you play in Memphis?
Feral: why, yes, I do. But it's sort of fun.
Mrs. T: I wish I could tell you we played at the Daisy Theater or some other cool Beale St. location. In reality, we played at an all-ages club located in a warehouse on the edge of downtown. It had a name, but I can't recall it. This was... January of 1998? I think.
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