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 Unlike
the Peppers, Fishbone has chosen to deal with the commercial system
defiantly—year in and year out.
For the Hollywood
Records/Disney project, the boys were less than prepared for the
game they were expected to play.
Intentionally
perhaps, depending on your camp.
For his part,
when he signed Fishbone, John Dee might have seen a solid right
hook in what had long been considered a Fishbone curse: mainstream
radio's glaring disregard. If so, it was a keen observation. Being
excluded from the rotations of swishy 80's relics that Modern Rock™
stations blend into their alterno-formats means that Fishbone isn't
associated with re-runs.
This point
was proven at a 1999 Santa Anita Racetrack performance sponsored
by L.A.'s KROQ (106.7). In the landscaped center of the field, then
station-supported band Buck-o-Nine tore through songs before a sizable
but meandering crowd. Horses thundered around the outer track as
the audience grew antsy. The next act, Goldfinger, inspired a token
frat-boy mosh but also failed to capture the audience.
An hour later,
Fishbone walked on. All eyes were on Angelo and all throats roared
approval as he yelled "Hi there!" and jittered about. When the band
launched into its set and the audience ignited, racehorses were
held at the starting gate by alarmed Santa Anita management. KROQ
staffers were no help; several were even seen climbing atop equipment
for a better view. The track's grandstand crowd was also treated
to quite a sight -- fans climbed, then tore down, a chain-link fence
to get to the stage, ascended maintenance scaffolding that had been
cordoned off nearby, and started a whirlpool slam pit one hundred
feet in diameter.
It was testament,
a disaster, and a last straw between the radio station and Fishbone,
but for some reason the incident's electricity never made it onto
the record.
 Neither,
unfortunately, did the vibe of a later Humboldt road-trip. Courtesy
of Angelo, I'd been extended an invitation to join the band on the
grueling, twelve-hour bus ride with their roster of opening act
musicians and vocalists. We were on our way to a small town hall
for a semi-secret show sponsored by some "agricultural profiteers."
Norwood was in charge. Road trip revelry and other cliches were
provided by several mushroom-chomping hangers-on.
When the rent-a-coach
finally rolled into town, motel room recovery was the order of the
day. But that night, the sons and daughters of local growers stomped
and danced and smoked, openly snorting and dosing themselves into
a funk-fed frenzy.
The cover
charge was abandoned, "backstage" became a silly concept, and the
darkened bus, left open, became a blowjob zone. It was the raising
of hell by crazed sixteen-year-olds and a swarm of Humboldt's workaday
refugees.
Through it
all, the most eligible designated drivers were Fishbone members.
On the way back, the bus stopped repeatedly to let off kids hitching
southward. There was no wealth to share, so Norwood shared the transpo.
That's precisely
the riddle of Fishbone: finding a way to keep it a laid back free-for-all
regardless of the exasperation of anyone having to deal with the
band on a formal or authoritative level. You could call it spirit
before competence or professionalism, but it's more often community
before etiquette. Flea has said it best: "Fishbone has elements
that no other band can match, and they've always been a band you
can get close to."
Indeed, Fishbone
is at its best in halls, clubs and parties where you can writhe,
skate or skank right in front of the stage. Intimacy with their
fans means more to Fishbone than industry clout and limousines,
and it shows. But while Fishbone may be a disobedient long shot
in this era of Nerf punk posers and David Bowie stock options, they're
worth it. Like Les Claypool, one just has to see them perform live
in order to appreciate it, to be changed by it.
 When
she was in high school, said Gwen Stefani, she went to Fishbone
shows "every chance she got." So many years later, she stood in
a vocal booth and happily took direction from Angelo and Norwood
(and Steve Lindsey when they let him get a word in). True to form,
they weren't clear about what they wanted from her, but her determination
to stick it out was evident. One thing Fishbone's music isn't is
sexy, so they had a lot of fun with the spice Stefani added.
Later she
explained, "I'm here to give back. For me as a singer, Angelo was
the guy I wanted to be. I used to wear my homemade Fishbone shirts
and everyone knew they were my favorite band. For girls at the time,
there weren't a lot of people to look up to, and Angelo's ability
to capture an audience is a real gift."
Perhaps unbelievably,
another certified Fishbone fanatic featured on Nuttwerx is Donny
Osmond. Donny's son Jeremy turned him on to the band and he loved
their sound immediately. So much so, in fact, that against the advice
of the (since cancelled) Donny and Marie Show's producers, Osmond
campaigned for Fishbone to perform. He insisted that even their
soap opera-watching audience would love the band once they saw them
live. "I wanted to help good, young bands get some exposure, and
I wanted to use my show to do it. I thank Fishbone for the inspiration
to have tried."
A week after
Fishbone's performance on his show, a still-thrilled Donny was backstage
with the band when he was confronted by an obnoxiously drunk groupie.
The band members formed a human wall around him for his protection
until security could arrive. Impressed, Osmond later stated, "It
was't my scene, but I still felt welcome."
Norwood later
quipped, "That Donny Osmond is a cool muthaf*****."
Beyond some
of their members collaborating individually, it had been more than
ten years since Fishbone and the Peppers had played together. And
until Lindsey's involvement on the Nuttwerx album, they hadn't ever
recorded together. So when it finally went down in Venice, it was
a day thick with history and heart. Backing the session were Funkadelic's
original bassist Billy Bass, keyboardist Jim Cox, and percussionist
Ravi.
The fuse was
lit by the basses. Flea popped all of three strings before Norwood
and he were in sync and the room witnessed a funk fantasy. From
there, it was like a pool party where not one musician tested the
water - everyone just cannon-balled into the deep end. It was, as
Angelo later termed it, "serial killer gorilla funk," groove-core
stuff nobody else could play. And it just plain sucks that barely
any of it made it onto the record.
Worse, Lindsey
allegedly wrangled ownership of the masters from that session, perhaps
preparing for the record's eventual failure and grabbing valuables
along the way.
Perhaps more
than any other musician in this latest Fishbone cast, Perry Farrell
knows the band and its growing pains. And he's always wanted to
see them get their due.
"It's a family
thing," he later said. "These guys have the biggest hearts in the
world. They are so rich with the essence of this city. When I had
heard the new stuff, I showed up 'cause I wanted to get in on a
good thing."
For his part
on the record, Farrell rounded up anyone with vocal chords to sing
and shout and let loose for "It All Kept Startin' Over." The impromptu
fiesta worked for everyone; Perry's reputation for erasing boundaries
helped transcend a vibe present in all recording sessions -- resistance.
It was a great, potentially healing moment.
But it wasn't
enough. Since Nuttwerx was a roll of the Disney dice, Hollywood
Records wound up delaying its release repeatedly, asking for retakes
and further editing. By the end, Angelo accused Lindsey of sitting
on his hands when it came time to pay Fishbone-recruited musician
friends while his own were paid immediately.
The band wanted
to keep their album from being overproduced and losing its edge
in the hopes of a Grammy nominations. That is what they believed
they were fighting for, but wasn't the real enemy was plain old
Fishbone pandemonium, distracting hangers-on and stubbornness?
The making
of The Psychotic Friends Nuttwerx saw Fishbone not only biting,
but gnawing the hand that fed it. Consequently, it may be the last
"hand" they see for years to come.
But then again,
so what?
Fishbone remains
a rite of passage band. It performs for the younger siblings and
sons and daughters of its original fans, filling clubs every other
week in every other town. The band does well in Europe and Japan,
kicking ass on stage rather than on Billboard's weekly tally. Their
time on sales charts is too minimal to make this a rise and fall
story; the charts became irrelevant quite a while back. Fishbone
has spent far more time as a defiant alternative act than they ever
did as a brand.
New stories
of their live performances mix well with their old. New fans keep
jumping into the mix, and American partygoer heritage remains Fishbone's
own Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.
Depending
on who you talk to, Nuttwerx wound up having only half-hearted promotion
and therefore faired poorly. The band's potential three-record situation
with Disney became a "one-off" - a single release contract and an
exit door. While the tunes featured on Nuttwerx were more accessible
and certainly commercial, it might have had too many ingredients
- or chefs.
Was it cursed
by a sense of record industry charity, whispered about from the
beginning? Or was it that Norwood and Angelo, afraid of being completely
turned out, flatly refused to record a Fishbone version of The Jungle
Book for an unrelated, unspecified Disney project?
Whatever.
A year later,
pulled aside during an Everlast performance at L.A.'s Viper Room,
a very democratic Steve Lindsey had only praise for his Fishbone
experience. "I can't wait to work with them again."
If that's
to be believed, Lindsey likely stands alone. Meanwhile Fishbone,
notorious for wearing blinders, can only see what lies ahead.
A Fishbone Historical Timeline
1983
"Megatron" is killed; Fishbone and ska-punk are born.
Angelo loses the Jheri Curl®; is nabbed from prom by rest of band
to play very first show.
1984
Fishbone plays grand opening of Track Auto-Mart. Band comes up in
L.A. club scene. Brought to the attention of Columbia Records by
members of the Bus Boys, Fishbone is signed.
1985
First EP released. Party at Ground Zero is embraced by Reagan
haters nationwide. Angelo buys haunted Jaguar, which costs more
to keep running than an aircraft carrier. Band opens for Dead Kennedys—steals
the show.
1986
In Your Face is released. Some claim sound is too "polished;"
makes band cringe like a mouthful of lemon. Fishbone backs Peanut
Butter Lady Annette Funicello on song Jamaica Ska for movie not
worth mentioning.
1987
The Christmas EP, It's A Wonderful Life, is released. Norwood's
son, Everett Earl Fisher, is born. Fishbone renames itself "Ranchbone"
for appearance in blaxploitation spoof, I'm Gonna Git You Sucka.
1988/89
Truth and Soul is recorded. Fishbone freaks John Cusak, Tim
Robbins feature band in their movie, Tape Heads. Haunted
Jaguar is shoved under tarp.
1990
Truth... is released. Infamous L.A. show with Public Enemy
turns into local gang bloodbath. Angelo scales light tower; threatens
to go home. Fighting promptly stops. Performance is brilliant; only
the injured leave disappointed.
1991
Performing on Saturday Night Live, Angelo climbs into the blades
of a giant prop fan, pissing off show's producers. Recording Reality
of My Surroundings, producer David Kahne is assaulted by drummer,
Phil "Fish." Guitarist John Bingham joins band.
1992
Reality... is released. On day one of tour, L.A. riots break
out. Band wants to delay, but winds up experiencing nationwide unrest.
Relations with Sony/Columbia label begin to sour. Walter Adam Kibby
III is born.
1993
Lollapalooza '93. Fishbone goes funk-metal on Give a Monkey a
Brain. Keyboardist Chris Dowd leaves band, citing musical differences.
Guitarist Kendall Jones flees for safety of remote Christian sect.
1994
Give A Monkey... tour: London, Sydney, Tokyo, Honolulu. Fishbone,
now a five piece, expands metal sound. Sony/Columbia skimps on tour
support; band suspects retaliation from Kahne incident.
1995
Sony makes "Best Of" album condition of contract release. Band sponsors
own national tour. Sound becomes harder and less articulate. Angelo's
dad discovers Haunted Jag is worth big $$, has it fixed, stored
and forbids son to touch it.
1996
Guitarist Tracy "Spacy" T. replaces John Bingham. Sony releases
"hits" package, Fishbone 101. Rowdy Records signs deal. Chim
Chim's Bad Ass Revenge is recorded, released and ignored. Angelo
begins driving doorless, camouflaged mail truck.
1997
Free of Sony and ditching Rowdy, Fishbone dives into songwriting
and self- sponsored tours. Drummer Phil beats up Angelo, leaves
band. Angelo's daughter, Cheyenne Starr Forever Moore is born.
1998
Self-sponsored touring keeps band afloat. Hollywood Records picks
up Fishbone, keeps tight reign on expenditures; the struggle continues.
Lowered '64 Buick with 15 hydraulic switches replaces dying mail
truck.
1999
Rehearsing/recording. Studio time pauses for live bookings, auditioning
drummers and Angelo's bonding with daughter, who sings, climbs walls
and runs around like a headless chicken—there's a surprise.
2000
"We're gettin' ready to take a lot folks to school."
-Norwood Fisher
"The Buick
ain't done yet, I'm drivin' an Astro Van."
-Angelo Moore
2001
Amid the fizzling sound that is the nonsuccess of Psychotic Friends
Nuttwerx, the band confirms tour dates. During a conversation
from a lodge in Jackson Hole, Wyoming, Angelo described the experience
with Disney as a big letdown. He described the demo they're now
recording in the hopes of finding a new label. But since it was
the same old story, we talked about his latest ride instead—a
'77 BMW.
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