I was online recently searching for bands to fill out my summer concert schedule when I found a directory. Not just any directory, but an alphabetical listing of musical groups of all genres, varying degrees of personal hygiene, and not-of-this-world beliefs. From pure country and classic rock, to talentless garage bands and several apparently direct from the flaming pits of Satan's own backyard barbecue . . . there they were. A band buffet waiting for me to place my order.
I had heard that the perfect name for a band could be as simple as taking your high school mascot and combining it with your first automobile; Blue Devil Rambler or Rebel Pacer, for example. Maybe Bear Kat Gremlin or Bulldog Caddie?
However the name was chosen, some of the bands in this directory were genius, or at the least catchy. Others were . . . well let's say . . . I'd never book them based a name.
There was a collection of handles involving animals. Kitty Spankworthy was one of my faves. (I know... don't go there) Then there was Fluff the Kat, Dropkick Chihuahuas, A Dog Named Leo, and Forks for Cows. Snit's Dog & Pony Show, Pet Rooster, Captain Orangutang and Purple Monkey Dishwasher also made my list.
Being that I'm in Texas, I wasn't surprised to find a posse of bands with names such as Galactic Cowboys, Thriftstore Cowboys and Undercover Cowboys. We love cowboys!
I had to wonder if Half Decent was following truth in advertising guidelines, while Beans Barton and the Bipeds just rolled off the tongue and sounded cool.
I'd say that the two bands Explosive Diarrhea and Slop Jar Junior were a perfect pair for any event sponsored by Pepto, but not for me.
School Girl Knife Fight and Short Bus Superheros rang of issues that might force some Independant School District onto the short list for losing accreditation over the summer.
I've used the band Death By Injection several times before, so it was good to see them there. It still makes me laugh to think that a group of musically talented criminal lawyers can have so much fun when not in court.
Slime in the Ice Machine was an obvious tribute to longtime Houston television personality Marvin Zindler who made it his life's work to nail nasty restaurants for having sticky green goo in the cooler, and roach and rodent dropping on counter tops where food was being prepared.
There was a crypt full of bands with the word death, killer or Hell in the title. I even found Dracula's Dope Dealer listed in the directory. Who knew? I thought he was a blood-sucking, night stalker because he liked it.
I enjoy bands with real character though my audiences may not be ready for Cougar Camino or Titan Tempest. Rock on freaky dudes!
