This is the first stuff, baby, from way back in September of 2006. DNA is going to remove the really bad stuff, but will leave most of it alone. The stuff that no longer has functional web links will be removed.
When The DNA Vibrator first learned how to create a blog, it simply used a previously derived template. This template did not serve its function well. This blog page removes what others may consider certain expected blog features, but removing those extraneous bits makes the blog more conducive to reading through from start to end, like a book. It is stripped down to the essentials; simple, basic. As The DNA Vibrator learns more code, it will be easier to make portions of text link specifically to other portions of text, etc., which may be done ONLY if it suits the purpose of The DNA Vibrator.
In The Beginning....Permanent Historical Record: 9/14/2006
Understand: The DNA Vibrator is a thing. Once created, it had always existed. Its form serves its function. Its form will change, but its function will remain the same. When the DNA Vibrator refers to itself, it does so through a surrogate. Details which will surely implicate all those actually involved in its existence will no doubt reveal the tool through which the DNA Vibrator operates. This in no way diminishes the existence of the DNA Vibrator, even as friends of the tool used by the DNA Vibrator recognizes to whom the DNA Vibrator refers. The DNA Vibrator purposely uses an imperfect host to communicate. Obfuscation, confusion, and distraction are part of its purpose. Its whole purpose has never and will never be revealed.
The DNA Vibrator first fulfilled its function and influenced a group of unsuspecting young punks in the summer of 1988. In a living room, in a college house, on Hays Street, at Southern Illinois University in Carbondale, during an unforgiving streak of relentless heat and humidity, The DNA Vibrator enticed a drummer to play meaningless, mindless, noisy, and fulfilling, music by posing as a musician with a 25 pound Peavey bass guitar. Tony played his father's old trap kit. The DNA Vibrator had fallen on hard times. The Peavey was all that it could afford. While the DNA Vibrator forced it to sing, in its hollowness was the memory of a pre-CBS Fender Jazz bass which was sold years before to continue the function of the DNA Vibrator. The thrombosis attracted a guitar playing mosquito from next door. Mosquito because he was unassuming, as a guitarist, and easy to ignore, but if heard, was infectious and virulent in his pursuit of his own function. He was the West Nile carrier of the Carbondale music swamp.
Brian played a Gibson hollowbody which shrieked through an old Randall amp. Imagine a doo-wop era guitar being raped by a Steinberger bass in a German cathedral, or a bag of cats being attacked by a badger, and you can approximate the sound he produced when his distortion switch was on, but he wasn't yet strumming his guitar. It was glorious. These three would form the first avatar of the DNA Vibrator, through which part of its message could be heard. They were referred to as the Nightsoil Coolies.
As the DNA Vibrator would write many years later: "I was born a Nightsoil Coolie, yeah that's no foolie, shoveled shit for money, so I could go to schoolie. With my buddy Tony, and my buddy Brian, we turned into a band without even tryin.' We practiced in the basement of 503 Hays, hassled by the cops for the music we made; and the way we played it, so loud it shook walls---we took it out, told the girls, 'Hold our calls," while we went off, to Beverly, Hills, that is" (extracted from the song, "A Note To My Old Band," from the release, "Twin Rockets are a Go, Baby! by the DNA Vibrators)[Note the plural name 'the DNA Vibrators.' At that time, the DNA Vibrator was linked to two other units of similar function: AfroDJYak, and the Hand of God Attachment; it felt obligated to include complementary machinery into its function---these three units have since ceased their harmonic union, and the DNA Vibrator is again unified in itself].
The Nightsoil Coolies displayed its lack of coherent vision at a bratpack nightclub called Alexander Coles. Among the fraternity brothers and the vacuous semen receptacles were punks, losers, misfits, and one or two intelligent people. They played a set of mostly their own songs, but were not able to recreate the freedom and confusion that existed in the living room. The DNA Vibrator's function had been sabotaged by itself. A faulty LED led the DNA Vibrator to think its Ampeg 410 was on when it was not. No bass except a tinny monitor meant sucking ass and redefining the Coolie's purpose right at that moment. Perhaps this incarnation of the DNA Vibrator was too imperfect to serve its function. Being humbled sets one free, however. No expectations, no disappointment, no care. The next night, the three were drowning themselves in beer and gin on Springer Street, and joined an impromptu jam session in which musical freedom transcended mortal bonds, and the disorder which feeds the DNA Vibrator modulated into a whole other order. Beautiful sonic destruction followed for hours afterward. All present thanked God it was not taped. Tape would have reduced the glory of the moment. A tape of music is not music, no more than a picture of Mt. Saint Helens is a volcano. It is the volcano that the DNA Vibrator is after, not its image.
Permanent Historical Record: 9/15/2006
The DNA Vibrator is not linear. It will not follow a straight line. It can not even if it wanted to. Like the ghostly visitors of Ebeneezer Scrooge, jump now with it to the present, September 2006. The young son of the tool used by the DNA Vibrator, Carl, has composed and recorded two of his own songs. They bear the unmistakable stamp of The DNA Vibrator. This was not entirely unexpected, although genes are notoriously unreliable. Garageband has enabled technologically disabled tools like his father to write and record music as easily as the idea is distilled through the brain. At 10, Carl has mastered the technology. At some point, as songs are downloaded, and the message is spread, Carl's songs will be made available.
If you have not yet listened to the song, "A Note To My Old Band," it encapsulates the early history of The DNA Vibrator. If you know of Carbondale, Illinois, and you were there at that time, then it is still unlikely that you heard this song played live. The DNA Vibrators (the band, of which the DNA Vibrator was a part) played out once in the summer of 1995, a 4th of July blowout at Pinch Penny Pub, at the outdoor beer garden. Thunderous and magnificent. They were scheduled to play again that winter for the Christmas party of the staff of the local entertainment paper, The Carbondale Nightlife. On the way to the gig, The DNA Vibrator became disengaged from consciousness while driving its Cordoba, crashed, and ended up putting the car on the front steps of the new civic center downtown. After a trip to the hospital and some x-rays, the gig was canceled.
Then, in 2003, the Carbondale Chamber of Commerce planned a great street festival, and invited bands from the past to grace the main stages once again. All of the incarnations of The DNA Vibrator were pressed into service for an evening of distortion and mayhem that October. These bands included the Nightsoil Coolies, Monster Truck, Crank, and the DNA Vibrators.
Some new songs were unveiled, to an adoring crowd. However, the purpose of The DNA Vibrator is not to only to amuse, but to confuse. No professional recording of this event survived. An attempt was made to record the show, but the hard drive of the Mac workstation completely crashed after the gig, and the data was unrecoverable. This was an unmistakable sign from the higher order of the universe that it was imperative that the show remain only as a memory. How else can you explain the catastrophic crash of a Mac workstation?
The DNA Vibrator can not force the tool to continue to write any longer. The continued history of the development of the DNA Vibrator must wait until the next time.
Permanent Historical Record: 9/16/2006
The song "God Made Us Funky" was the first title recorded and produced under the moniker The DNA Vibrators. As posted earlier, at that time, (approximately 1995, although the ideas for most of the songs came from much earlier in the first streams of The DNA Vibrator's existence) The DNA Vibrator had temporarily fused with two other entities, AfroDJYak, and The Hand of God Attachment. AfroDJYak was the very same drummer who sat tapping out senseless little rhythms on Hays Street when The DNA Vibrator first achieved consciousness. The Hand of God Attachment was created after an all night bender, and graced us with its presence on the very day of the first DNA Vibrators recording session. It belonged to Dave, guitarist extraordinaire in his own right, but like Arthur Pendragon, who became the annointed of Fate when he accepted his holy weapon Excalibur, Dave's talent became righteous when he donned the Attachment. This post will recount the history of the song and of the recording session.
As the tool of The DNA Vibrator walked to its mundane job, as would often happen, The DNA Vibrator would introduce certain rhthyms or melodies which moved at the pace of the tool's walk. The tool convinced himself, before he recognized that he was an instrument of the DNA Vibrator, that these little ditties just "came to him." On this day, a pulsing techno beat was kept by the clicking of the tool's teeth, while a crunchy guitar chord lurched as a triplet over the top of it. The tool could be heard singing, "Duh Duh, duh-duh-duh, 1 2 trip-uh-let," which became the basis for the song, "God Made Us Funky". The lyrics for the song were born from the pages of the Milk and Cheese comic books, written by Evan Dorkin. In fact, most of the lyrics of the song were ripped right out of the books.
The DNA Vibrator wrote to Mr. Dorkin, who kindly gave him permission to write all it wanted about his characters, as long as The DNA Vibrator did not claim that this would be an official or endorsed product, and to not make money off of his property. True to this contract, no money has been made off of any song The DNA Vibrator has created! This might dissuade some entities. Not The DNA Vibrator! The DNA Vibrator forges ahead and recycles old crap for the next generation of the uninterested! You, however, should take the time to find and spend your money on the comics produced by Evan.
After a long period of incubation, and through long distances, the trinity of The DNA Vibrator, AfroDJYak, and Dave (The Hand of God Attachment was yet to be created) arranged a date to record. As of the day they went into the studio, AfroDJYak had never actually played the songs with the other two. He had just heard a boombox recording of the tool singing the beat and speaking the lyrics.
On the eve of the recording, DNA and AfroDJYak sat up most of the night drinking all of the booze in the trailer. By about 4 am, only some nasty old gin was left. To enhance or kill the taste, the two combined the gin with anything: onions, black olives (pretty common) to red hot pickled sausages. To this day, a drunken evening is not complete for these two wretches, unless gin and sausage is either referenced or actually drank.
By 9 the next morning, they felt as sick as they looked. A trip to Hardee's nearly resulted in vomit (but that's nothing new). As they drove there, both realized that neither one really should probably be driving. They met Jim at Molehole Studios, a friend, proprietor of said studio, and terrific engineer. Dave was nowhere to be found.
Many guests stopped in and helped as the day began (about noon). Ralph, drummer of Crank, lent his considerable skill to the lead-off track (the aforementioned "God Made Us Funky"). An alternate version exists with AfroDJYak, but the inability to have practiced before the session made it clear that AfroDJYak did not have his mojo working for that song. Jeff came by and beat a hammer on an anvil for a track; Brian came by and played rhythm guitar on another. We had finished up basic tracks, and had began overdubs, when we finally reached Dave.
Dave had been on a booze fueled trip, like DNA and AfroDJYak (minus the sausage) that had yet to wind down. He had been up for the last 72 hours straight, and looked more wired than my Mesa Boogie amplifier. DNA swears that a halo encircles Dave's head as he walked down into Jim's basement. Like a leaky barge full of bourbon chugging up the Mississippi, he left a smoky, woody vapor trail everywhere he went.
Dave got to business. He strapped on the ugliest Washburn guitar he owned. It had been modified by The DNA Vibrator with a new heavy duty bridge. The first song came through Dave's headphones, and through the studio monitors. He needed a take or two to fine tune his sound. He played through a 200 watt vintage ampeg head (recently retubed), and a Marshall 4X12. It shook the whole studio. When the solo began, we knew that something special was happening. It was sick and wrong, and couldn't have been better. With a cigarette dangling from his lips, he played like he was in the Record Plant in LA. We realized at that moment we were watching the creation of something new, from the chaos: The Hand of God Attachment. Even though 10 years have passed since then, all of those who know Dave have heard this title ascribed to him. It was God who moved him in that moment, because not even a wiry veteran of the music scene like Dave should have been able to withstand and produce what he did that day. After Dave finished the first take of the solo, he asked, "Umm, was that okay? Do you want me to do another one?" to which none of us responded for a moment. "No, are you kidding?" He wasn't satisfied. On the track on which Ralph drummed, he did another take, and proved us wrong. It was sicker and more beautiful than the first.
As The DNA Vibrator has noted before, a recording really isn't the music, it is the aural image of the music, the best you can do with present technology. Age has worked on this song, but The Hand of God Attachment sounds as sick now as it did then. Tune in another day for the rest of this story.
Permanent Historical Record: 9/17/2006
As The DNA Vibrator has said before, different iterations have served as vessels for its music. This is as good a time as any to discuss the imperfect hosts of The DNA Vibrator.
In 1981, as the tool's musical consciousness was opening, he formed a band called The Rage. The Rage played cover tunes by groups like the Sex Pistols, The Clash, Devo, The Police, and Joan Jett. They wrote several originals. Some of them were penned by the tool, and had the beginnings of a sound that would continue to fall short of the entirety of The DNA Vibrator. However, the sound is unmistakable. The Rage lasted throughout high school.
Jump to college. Jazz bass in hand, but no band. Way too much drink. Lose scholarship. Sell bass. Hate own guts. Metamorphose. Start a band called The Watch. Suck. But, begin to work with AfroDJYak.
Six months later, after weeks of aborted practices, in one sweltering evening, the three who would become the Nightsoil Coolies came together, although it would be months before they were christened. The Coolies were song engines. That was the name of their first recording. Prolific, diverse, and actually, pretty damn good. However, they lacked direction, business saavy, good equipment, an agent, and at first, a van. The Coolies managed to stay together for three years, added a member, Fish, and recorded four times: Song Engines, Demockery, Idiodyssey, and Tim, Our Leader. A posthumous 4 disc set has been released which included all of the studio recording as well as the remains of a couple of nice live shows. The best part of that band was that all of the units remained in harmony and synchronization. No one left in disharmony. 15 years later, The Coolies still rock when three or four of them get together.
Immediately after the disintegration of the Coolies, The DNA Vibrator formed Satan's Monster Truck, quickly shortened to Monster Truck, because in southern Illinois, in 1991, it was serious business to take the devil's name in vain, or in earnest, for that matter. Monster Truck borrowed heavily from the Coolies vast library of songs. They made two studio recordings and two live recordings in two years. Those recordings included 8 Cylinder Baptism, and Untitled Demo.
In the summer of 1993-1994, Monster Truck imploded and two members recruited two fixtures of the Carbondale music scene to create CRANK. From 1993 to 1997, CRANK produced an untitled demo, a second untitled demo, and finally, the CD Garlic. Although functioning well within the group dynamic, it was clear that the elements that suited The DNA Vibrator were somewhat different than the elements which suited the entity CRANK. In 1995, The DNA Vibrator created its side and final project, The DNA Vibrators. It was created, as the liner notes read, with "something old, something new, something borrowed, and something super double kick-ass!" In order, those things would be: AfroDJYak, brand new songs, a song from the Coolies, and The Hand of God Attachment. The DNA Vibrators created two recordings which survived: Twin Rockets Are A Go, Baby!, and Unnatural Selection.
At present, The DNA Vibrator is working on educational music to help college students learn difficult course material, (so sensible it can't be true---but no bullshit, it is), and several tunes which do not readily fit under any other collaborator's name. Ultimately, there will be a third DNA Vibrator's record. Also, The DNA Vibrator is producing the tool's son's compositions. The tool's son, Carl, is calling himself Spazz, jr. Makes sense.
Permanent Historical Record: 9/20/2006
Today was a banner day. There was enough traffic on this little web creation to shut it down. This spurred The DNA Vibrator to let loose with some saved funds and upgrade its web offerings. The site looks the same (right now) but the capabilities of The DNA Vibrator have increased dramatically. It makes The DNA Vibrator almost feel...reckless. Expect more music on the site, soon. Expect more of the things you already ignore. Ignore it some more, and just see what happens. Like the conversion of 6-1/2 million tons of mass every second into energy in the center of the sun, ignoring The DNA Vibrator will not change the DNA Vibrator. Its function remains the same.
Permanent Historical Record: 9/21/2006
As another evening winds down, this website has undergone another overhaul. Of course this means nothing to you, the first time viewer, but means something to the typist who is even now staring at the screen watching this moment become recorded in some sparse textual way. Time, space, revisions, deletions, these are irrelevant to The DNA Vibrator. Some of you may have noticed that this blog is less a conversation and more of a monologic history. The DNA Vibrator will shortly incorporate a message posting system and/or an email to which you can post your thoughts. The DNA Vibrator may or may not share your thoughts with anyone else who reads this. It's The DNA Vibrator's website, and it doesn't have to share.
Permanent Historical Record: 9/22/2006
As of today, a message posting system was added to this blog page. Also, an adminstrative email was provided on the front page. And, apparently, right here, too. Let's see how long it takes to regret that move. If you are a spammer or are somebody trying to flood this site with crap more useless than what The DNA Vibrator already posts here, then The DNA Vibrator has learned a valuable lesson: You totally fucking suck. Thank you for teaching that lesson to The DNA Vibrator who now knows it would be better off without you leeches sucking on the balls of society. However, if you have a real question, comment, or wish to buy lots of other musical crap in which The DNA Vibrator has been involved, then by all means, post a comment and/or email away.
The DNA Vibrator now wishes to continue with some of the history of the band that never was. During the two recording sessions at Molehole Studio,the number 138 came up more often than chance should allow. First, it is the name of one of the songs on the record, "Unnatural Selection." It is the length of that song. It was the amount of money paid for the recording session. It was the name of one of the bands in which Dave appeared before The Hand of God Attachment was actualized. And a cupie doll to anyone who can tell The DNA Vibrator what other musically-related reference 138 has. It strikes The DNA Vibrator that at some point, The DNA Vibrator must create a song lyrics page for the songs that are currently uploaded.
As you may have noticed The DNA Vibrator is frugal: resource allocation is one of its functions. The first recording, which resulted in the album, "Twin Rockets Are A Go, Baby!" cost a grand total of one AKG D-112 microphone and a nice hand cart. The entire recording cost less to make than a pair of shoes, and was produced on equipment less sophisticated than a child's electronic toy.
Permanent Historical Record: 9/23/2006
An interesting note: All of the Nightsoil Coolies' songs posted on the [link broken--music download page--] were actually performed by Monster Truck, which was 3/4 Coolies and 1/4 Ralph, the drummer who with The DNA Vibrator, Fish, and Brian, built Monster Truck. They were recorded in 1992 during a show on Halloween, a holiday for which Carbondale and Southern Illinois University is infamous, at the Hangar 9.
That night, the smell of tear gas was in the air. It was one of the last times that SIU students "took" the Strip (the nickname of the street in town with all the nightclubs and college diners). Monster Truck was in rare form, and the sound off of the mixing board was pretty sweet. The DNA Vibrator is still pleased with how clear these recordings sound. Although the Coolies produced lots of material, somehow, the Coolies never produced a studio recording of these songs that sound as crisp as this live rendition turned out. At that time, Monster Truck was still playing about 50% Coolies music anyway. Besides, The DNA Vibrator penned these tunes (with the notable exception of the song, "Ballad of Minnesota," by Brian). It does not matter which entities rehearsed them.
Permanent Historical Record: 9/25/2006
Earlier, we discussed the birth of the Nightsoil Coolies, the first band of The DNA Vibrator which witnessed and realized some of The DNA Vibrator's purpose. The Coolies spontaneously emerged in the summer of 1988. By the fall, they were humiliated at Alexander Cole's. Two years later, this experience (and many others) would help The DNA Vibrator create the comic book, "Flaming Guitars." At some point, the DNA Vibrator will scan the pages of "Flaming Guitars" into a pdf document so that you can download it. But not today.
No, today, The DNA Vibrator will tell more of the story of the Coolies. In between the time of their first glorious practices, and their first humiliating performance, they adopted the name, the "Nightsoil Coolies." How? Why?
How: Well, the tool's mother, considered by anyone's measure who knew her to be one of the most intelligent people one would ever know, christened the band. One evening, when the as yet unnamed band stopped into the tool's parent's house, on a road trip away from college for a weekend, to her chagrin, she gave them the idea for the name of the band.
Why: Well, as the band and the tool's mom stayed up late talking one night, and the band members discussed such esoteric topics as whether the word "the" should actually be part of a band's name (it's ubiquitous, said the bass player, no it's not, said the drummer, what's ubiquitous, said the guitarist)they began to talk about being a band representing the lowest common demoninator, since they fully expected to suck at the most basic level. They wanted to affiliate themselves with those people performing the worst jobs a person could think of, to be "their" band (in an attempt to be "political," they somehow thought it would be cool to be some kind of symbol for the proletariat). So, many run of the mill kinds of jobs were bandied about. After they exhausted their possibilities, the tool's mom said, "Why don't you call yoursleves the Nightsoil Coolies? Nightsoil coolies have about the worst job you can imagine." The boys were intrigued. The tool's mom explained in short, that nightsoil coolies were oriental shit-collectors, those poorest of the poor in the far East who made their living by collecting full chamberpots (the nightsoil) from people's homes, preparing the human waste and then selling it for fuel or fertilizer for farmer's fields. The band was officially named that night.
The name had its detractors. For the first year or so, some point of each set was spent explaining to some drunk fuck, or some entertainment paper reporter, or some girlfriend of one of the guys in the band, exactly what the name meant. Before long, two shorthand versions of the name, NSC or simply, the Coolies, were how the band was referred to regularly. After the Alexander Cole's show, the group also earned the nickname, the Nightsoil Suckies. Of the two girls which started calling the Coolies the Nightsoil Suckies, one of them became the tool's wife! Thus began her long history of criticizing everything the tool does, and the tool's long history of deserving every word of it!
After the Alexander Cole's debacle, the Coolies played several terrific shows, at venues as diverse as their basement, 611 pizza, Tritos in Champaign, IL, and a frat house at Milliken University in Decatur, IL. At the frat house, they played for over 5 hours. They had to repeat everything they knew twice. Some of the stuff they played was either made up on the spot, or was stuff the other guys faked while Brian, the original Song Engine, strummed out the chords and sang an endless supply of lyrics.
It was at this show that the boys realized their purpose: Play, play music for anyone they could, in any venue that would have them, and relish every minute of it. They didn't think about making money, getting decent equipment, or road managers, booking agents, ratfuck club owners, drugs, drink, sluts, crime, and all of the other great things which would come their way. In the end, making music was what motivated them, enjoying the looks on the faces of people when they played something that people liked was the prize. To this day, no greater purpose has been achieved by The DNA Vibrator then when its bass guitar was shaking the plate glass windows in the Avalon niteclub on Belmont in Chicago more than the passing L trains were. The people who stood between the bass and the glass were hypnotized by the subsonic vibration, transfixed by the undefined fear response that sprang from the primitive gorilla inside all of them when those tones passed through them.
The DNA Vibrator has experienced few of those transcendent moments, but one was enough to convince it that a greater power than itself exists in the universe. This has been and continues to be one of the pursuits of The DNA Vibrator: To seek out its creator.
Permanent Historical Record: 9/26/2006
The DNA Vibrator had some time to kill, so it scanned in the original artwork for the cassette release, "Unnatual Selection." Look at it by clicking <>here.
A compilation of "Unnatrual Selection" and "Twin Rockets Are A Go, Baby!" was later released and called "The Hole Truth." That will be posted some time in the future.
Permanent Historical Record: 9/27/2006
Not long ago, a cousin of The DNA Vibrator died. He was a gifted musician, and like many musicians, was really a jack-of-all-trades. At one time, he ran a nightclub called MR. Bigstuffs in a little town called Mt. Zion. After the Nightsoil Coolies had been playing for a couple of years together, they had the bright (read completely fucking daft) idea of booking all their own shows. The band made many trips from Carbondale to Chicago, so whenever there was a club or bar in between at which they could play, they did. In passing conversation with the cousin, Danny, Danny suggested that the Coolies play his club. "Have you actually heard us, Danny?" asked the tool. "Hey cuz, it don't matter. You want to play? I'll give you a weekend." So, the Coolies took him up on it. As the show dates came closer, Danny had some difficulty with both nights. So they decided on one night, Friday. It was clear that he wanted out of the obligation, but at this point, the Coolies needed the money, and a smaller guarantee for one night was better than no money on both nights. The Coolies, too, if they had had the freedom to cancel the show would have. They were not looking forward to being heckled by rednecks for three hours. Or worse.
That night, Danny welcomed the Coolies into the club like family. They played, and by about the third song, many regulars had left the bar. By song number five, the folks still in the bar were saying, "I wonder what song that was supposed to be?" The call of "You suck!" preceded and followed each of their songs. This is not an exaggeration. Through the second set, silence followed most of the songs. After the second set, although the Coolies were willing to complete their obligation, Danny mercifully stopped the debacle. Unlike many bar owning scumbags, Danny paid the Coolies, and both Danny and the band learned something from the experience: Blood is thicker than water, but no matter what, college alternative rock will not fucking fly in a country cover band bar. The DNA Vibrator misses his cuz.
Permanent Historical Record: 9/28/2006
Music scenes come and go, as the old guard passes, graduates from college, or actually, once or twice, "makes it" professionally as musicians. When The DNA Vibrator emerged in the Carbondale, Illinois music scene, in the mid-1980's, it was as the torch was being handed down from one generation to the next. The old guard, October's Child, The Reform, Love Rhino, and Seven Men Vanish were exiting stage left, while the new guard, The Nightsoil Coolies, The Blue Meanies, Diet Christ, Fusebox, 138, Action Man, The Cruces, The Plugs, and dozens of others (don't get offended if you were overlooked by The DNA Vibrator---email or post a comment and see what happens!)were being ushered into the limelight. Many established clubs were still popular venues, but a group of underground house clubs also opened new avenues for exposure. Cafe Flesh, Club Romex, The Lost Cross House, Club Felix, and the venerable House of Voodoo, all flung their innocent-enough-by-day-doors wide open to be pits of sin and sound at night.
It no longer mattered if your band had credentials, or a demo, or experience, or talent! It only mattered that you wanted to play, and were willing to haul your equipment wherever there was a call for a show. In other words, the scene was perfect for the first vehicle of The DNA Vibrator. The music scene exploded with a wide variety of bands exploring old and new ground. The Coolies at once fit and did not within that scene. The DNA Vibrator was an odd duck even then.
Although there were many venues to play, there was one that became home to the underground music scene in Carbondale for the time it was open. 611 Pizza, on 611 S. Illinois Avenue (don't bother searching for it---it has long since closed) was a pizza joint ran by two Chinese immigrants, Sam (not his real name, but the one "assigned" to him as he was processed in San Francisco) and Lin. Their menu consisted of the Chinese interpretation of pizza, and also fried rice and crab rangoon. In other words, the perfect restaurant. Every now and then, they would experiment with something new on the menu, french fries one week, hamburgers the next, but the pizza, the pizza brought the bands back. Not because it was good. No, it honestly sucked. Because it was as much the people's pizza as 611 Pizza's pizza. Maybe some of that old style communism rubbed off on the bands and crowd who frequented there.
It seemed that every month the layout of 611 Pizza would change, but there was always room for a stage, a band and tons of people crowded inside. The regular patrons would be the people Sam would enlist to help change the look of his place. The patrons would be the ones who he hired to work his grill, and to run the door. This is why his place became the scene's place. Beer would flow, original music would shake the walls, and people would keep the place packed until closing time, 2 am.
When Sam got in financial trouble, the local bands played several benefits to keep the club's doors open. When he was closed by the Health Department, the local bands spent the weekend cleaning the place from top to bottom. There were some times that the only way AfroDJYak and the tool of The DNA Vibrator were able to eat was because they played a gig up at 611. Sam always gave the bands free pizza and beer. 611 was about the only way that bands like the Coolies were seen outside of the basement, at least at first. It was like the bar, Cheers, except with a lot more tattoos, leather, black make-up, puking, pot smoking, and hardcore music.
Eventually, people move on. Sam moved on, and after a few of glorious years, 611 pizza finally closed. The new guard prompted the old guard to exit stage left. Sam is still in Carbondale. His family is doing well. If any of you old guard are still in Carbondale, if you see Sam, you will recognize him. Say hello for us all.
Permanent Historical Record: 9/30/2006
As this is the last post of the month, the DNA Vibrator understands that it is convention to archive a previous month's posts and provide a link to them for your convenience. Well, FUCK convention. Until The DNA Vibrator records a thousand hits a day, until the WORLD is indoctrinated to The DNA Vibrator's unflinching philosophy, then this blog stays unarchived. Unless The DNA Vibrator gets around to making an archive page, and then it will likely happen without much fanfare. EITHER way, the message of THE DNA Vibrator remains clear, but misunderstood.
Link here to see a pdf scan of <>The Hole Truth, the remastered CD, a "limited edition with an unlimited supply" (a special treat to the person who contacts The DNA Vibrator with what song that line is from) which combined all of the previously recorded work by the DNA Vibrators onto one disc.
The DNA Vibrator has learned how some scanned files slow down the speed of loading this blog. That is something that The DNA Vibrator would wish to avoid. It will try to make all picture references within the blog to link to a separate page or image, so you don't have to look if you don't want. Why don't you want to? What's wrong with you?
When The DNA Vibrator first learned how to create a blog, it simply used a previously derived template. This template did not serve its function well. This blog page removes what others may consider certain expected blog features, but removing those extraneous bits makes the blog more conducive to reading through from start to end, like a book. It is stripped down to the essentials; simple, basic. As The DNA Vibrator learns more code, it will be easier to make portions of text link specifically to other portions of text, etc., which may be done ONLY if it suits the purpose of The DNA Vibrator.
In The Beginning....Permanent Historical Record: 9/14/2006
Understand: The DNA Vibrator is a thing. Once created, it had always existed. Its form serves its function. Its form will change, but its function will remain the same. When the DNA Vibrator refers to itself, it does so through a surrogate. Details which will surely implicate all those actually involved in its existence will no doubt reveal the tool through which the DNA Vibrator operates. This in no way diminishes the existence of the DNA Vibrator, even as friends of the tool used by the DNA Vibrator recognizes to whom the DNA Vibrator refers. The DNA Vibrator purposely uses an imperfect host to communicate. Obfuscation, confusion, and distraction are part of its purpose. Its whole purpose has never and will never be revealed.
The DNA Vibrator first fulfilled its function and influenced a group of unsuspecting young punks in the summer of 1988. In a living room, in a college house, on Hays Street, at Southern Illinois University in Carbondale, during an unforgiving streak of relentless heat and humidity, The DNA Vibrator enticed a drummer to play meaningless, mindless, noisy, and fulfilling, music by posing as a musician with a 25 pound Peavey bass guitar. Tony played his father's old trap kit. The DNA Vibrator had fallen on hard times. The Peavey was all that it could afford. While the DNA Vibrator forced it to sing, in its hollowness was the memory of a pre-CBS Fender Jazz bass which was sold years before to continue the function of the DNA Vibrator. The thrombosis attracted a guitar playing mosquito from next door. Mosquito because he was unassuming, as a guitarist, and easy to ignore, but if heard, was infectious and virulent in his pursuit of his own function. He was the West Nile carrier of the Carbondale music swamp.
Brian played a Gibson hollowbody which shrieked through an old Randall amp. Imagine a doo-wop era guitar being raped by a Steinberger bass in a German cathedral, or a bag of cats being attacked by a badger, and you can approximate the sound he produced when his distortion switch was on, but he wasn't yet strumming his guitar. It was glorious. These three would form the first avatar of the DNA Vibrator, through which part of its message could be heard. They were referred to as the Nightsoil Coolies.
As the DNA Vibrator would write many years later: "I was born a Nightsoil Coolie, yeah that's no foolie, shoveled shit for money, so I could go to schoolie. With my buddy Tony, and my buddy Brian, we turned into a band without even tryin.' We practiced in the basement of 503 Hays, hassled by the cops for the music we made; and the way we played it, so loud it shook walls---we took it out, told the girls, 'Hold our calls," while we went off, to Beverly, Hills, that is" (extracted from the song, "A Note To My Old Band," from the release, "Twin Rockets are a Go, Baby! by the DNA Vibrators)[Note the plural name 'the DNA Vibrators.' At that time, the DNA Vibrator was linked to two other units of similar function: AfroDJYak, and the Hand of God Attachment; it felt obligated to include complementary machinery into its function---these three units have since ceased their harmonic union, and the DNA Vibrator is again unified in itself].
The Nightsoil Coolies displayed its lack of coherent vision at a bratpack nightclub called Alexander Coles. Among the fraternity brothers and the vacuous semen receptacles were punks, losers, misfits, and one or two intelligent people. They played a set of mostly their own songs, but were not able to recreate the freedom and confusion that existed in the living room. The DNA Vibrator's function had been sabotaged by itself. A faulty LED led the DNA Vibrator to think its Ampeg 410 was on when it was not. No bass except a tinny monitor meant sucking ass and redefining the Coolie's purpose right at that moment. Perhaps this incarnation of the DNA Vibrator was too imperfect to serve its function. Being humbled sets one free, however. No expectations, no disappointment, no care. The next night, the three were drowning themselves in beer and gin on Springer Street, and joined an impromptu jam session in which musical freedom transcended mortal bonds, and the disorder which feeds the DNA Vibrator modulated into a whole other order. Beautiful sonic destruction followed for hours afterward. All present thanked God it was not taped. Tape would have reduced the glory of the moment. A tape of music is not music, no more than a picture of Mt. Saint Helens is a volcano. It is the volcano that the DNA Vibrator is after, not its image.
Permanent Historical Record: 9/15/2006
The DNA Vibrator is not linear. It will not follow a straight line. It can not even if it wanted to. Like the ghostly visitors of Ebeneezer Scrooge, jump now with it to the present, September 2006. The young son of the tool used by the DNA Vibrator, Carl, has composed and recorded two of his own songs. They bear the unmistakable stamp of The DNA Vibrator. This was not entirely unexpected, although genes are notoriously unreliable. Garageband has enabled technologically disabled tools like his father to write and record music as easily as the idea is distilled through the brain. At 10, Carl has mastered the technology. At some point, as songs are downloaded, and the message is spread, Carl's songs will be made available.
If you have not yet listened to the song, "A Note To My Old Band," it encapsulates the early history of The DNA Vibrator. If you know of Carbondale, Illinois, and you were there at that time, then it is still unlikely that you heard this song played live. The DNA Vibrators (the band, of which the DNA Vibrator was a part) played out once in the summer of 1995, a 4th of July blowout at Pinch Penny Pub, at the outdoor beer garden. Thunderous and magnificent. They were scheduled to play again that winter for the Christmas party of the staff of the local entertainment paper, The Carbondale Nightlife. On the way to the gig, The DNA Vibrator became disengaged from consciousness while driving its Cordoba, crashed, and ended up putting the car on the front steps of the new civic center downtown. After a trip to the hospital and some x-rays, the gig was canceled.
Then, in 2003, the Carbondale Chamber of Commerce planned a great street festival, and invited bands from the past to grace the main stages once again. All of the incarnations of The DNA Vibrator were pressed into service for an evening of distortion and mayhem that October. These bands included the Nightsoil Coolies, Monster Truck, Crank, and the DNA Vibrators.
Some new songs were unveiled, to an adoring crowd. However, the purpose of The DNA Vibrator is not to only to amuse, but to confuse. No professional recording of this event survived. An attempt was made to record the show, but the hard drive of the Mac workstation completely crashed after the gig, and the data was unrecoverable. This was an unmistakable sign from the higher order of the universe that it was imperative that the show remain only as a memory. How else can you explain the catastrophic crash of a Mac workstation?
The DNA Vibrator can not force the tool to continue to write any longer. The continued history of the development of the DNA Vibrator must wait until the next time.
Permanent Historical Record: 9/16/2006
The song "God Made Us Funky" was the first title recorded and produced under the moniker The DNA Vibrators. As posted earlier, at that time, (approximately 1995, although the ideas for most of the songs came from much earlier in the first streams of The DNA Vibrator's existence) The DNA Vibrator had temporarily fused with two other entities, AfroDJYak, and The Hand of God Attachment. AfroDJYak was the very same drummer who sat tapping out senseless little rhythms on Hays Street when The DNA Vibrator first achieved consciousness. The Hand of God Attachment was created after an all night bender, and graced us with its presence on the very day of the first DNA Vibrators recording session. It belonged to Dave, guitarist extraordinaire in his own right, but like Arthur Pendragon, who became the annointed of Fate when he accepted his holy weapon Excalibur, Dave's talent became righteous when he donned the Attachment. This post will recount the history of the song and of the recording session.
As the tool of The DNA Vibrator walked to its mundane job, as would often happen, The DNA Vibrator would introduce certain rhthyms or melodies which moved at the pace of the tool's walk. The tool convinced himself, before he recognized that he was an instrument of the DNA Vibrator, that these little ditties just "came to him." On this day, a pulsing techno beat was kept by the clicking of the tool's teeth, while a crunchy guitar chord lurched as a triplet over the top of it. The tool could be heard singing, "Duh Duh, duh-duh-duh, 1 2 trip-uh-let," which became the basis for the song, "God Made Us Funky". The lyrics for the song were born from the pages of the Milk and Cheese comic books, written by Evan Dorkin. In fact, most of the lyrics of the song were ripped right out of the books.
The DNA Vibrator wrote to Mr. Dorkin, who kindly gave him permission to write all it wanted about his characters, as long as The DNA Vibrator did not claim that this would be an official or endorsed product, and to not make money off of his property. True to this contract, no money has been made off of any song The DNA Vibrator has created! This might dissuade some entities. Not The DNA Vibrator! The DNA Vibrator forges ahead and recycles old crap for the next generation of the uninterested! You, however, should take the time to find and spend your money on the comics produced by Evan.
After a long period of incubation, and through long distances, the trinity of The DNA Vibrator, AfroDJYak, and Dave (The Hand of God Attachment was yet to be created) arranged a date to record. As of the day they went into the studio, AfroDJYak had never actually played the songs with the other two. He had just heard a boombox recording of the tool singing the beat and speaking the lyrics.
On the eve of the recording, DNA and AfroDJYak sat up most of the night drinking all of the booze in the trailer. By about 4 am, only some nasty old gin was left. To enhance or kill the taste, the two combined the gin with anything: onions, black olives (pretty common) to red hot pickled sausages. To this day, a drunken evening is not complete for these two wretches, unless gin and sausage is either referenced or actually drank.
By 9 the next morning, they felt as sick as they looked. A trip to Hardee's nearly resulted in vomit (but that's nothing new). As they drove there, both realized that neither one really should probably be driving. They met Jim at Molehole Studios, a friend, proprietor of said studio, and terrific engineer. Dave was nowhere to be found.
Many guests stopped in and helped as the day began (about noon). Ralph, drummer of Crank, lent his considerable skill to the lead-off track (the aforementioned "God Made Us Funky"). An alternate version exists with AfroDJYak, but the inability to have practiced before the session made it clear that AfroDJYak did not have his mojo working for that song. Jeff came by and beat a hammer on an anvil for a track; Brian came by and played rhythm guitar on another. We had finished up basic tracks, and had began overdubs, when we finally reached Dave.
Dave had been on a booze fueled trip, like DNA and AfroDJYak (minus the sausage) that had yet to wind down. He had been up for the last 72 hours straight, and looked more wired than my Mesa Boogie amplifier. DNA swears that a halo encircles Dave's head as he walked down into Jim's basement. Like a leaky barge full of bourbon chugging up the Mississippi, he left a smoky, woody vapor trail everywhere he went.
Dave got to business. He strapped on the ugliest Washburn guitar he owned. It had been modified by The DNA Vibrator with a new heavy duty bridge. The first song came through Dave's headphones, and through the studio monitors. He needed a take or two to fine tune his sound. He played through a 200 watt vintage ampeg head (recently retubed), and a Marshall 4X12. It shook the whole studio. When the solo began, we knew that something special was happening. It was sick and wrong, and couldn't have been better. With a cigarette dangling from his lips, he played like he was in the Record Plant in LA. We realized at that moment we were watching the creation of something new, from the chaos: The Hand of God Attachment. Even though 10 years have passed since then, all of those who know Dave have heard this title ascribed to him. It was God who moved him in that moment, because not even a wiry veteran of the music scene like Dave should have been able to withstand and produce what he did that day. After Dave finished the first take of the solo, he asked, "Umm, was that okay? Do you want me to do another one?" to which none of us responded for a moment. "No, are you kidding?" He wasn't satisfied. On the track on which Ralph drummed, he did another take, and proved us wrong. It was sicker and more beautiful than the first.
As The DNA Vibrator has noted before, a recording really isn't the music, it is the aural image of the music, the best you can do with present technology. Age has worked on this song, but The Hand of God Attachment sounds as sick now as it did then. Tune in another day for the rest of this story.
Permanent Historical Record: 9/17/2006
As The DNA Vibrator has said before, different iterations have served as vessels for its music. This is as good a time as any to discuss the imperfect hosts of The DNA Vibrator.
In 1981, as the tool's musical consciousness was opening, he formed a band called The Rage. The Rage played cover tunes by groups like the Sex Pistols, The Clash, Devo, The Police, and Joan Jett. They wrote several originals. Some of them were penned by the tool, and had the beginnings of a sound that would continue to fall short of the entirety of The DNA Vibrator. However, the sound is unmistakable. The Rage lasted throughout high school.
Jump to college. Jazz bass in hand, but no band. Way too much drink. Lose scholarship. Sell bass. Hate own guts. Metamorphose. Start a band called The Watch. Suck. But, begin to work with AfroDJYak.
Six months later, after weeks of aborted practices, in one sweltering evening, the three who would become the Nightsoil Coolies came together, although it would be months before they were christened. The Coolies were song engines. That was the name of their first recording. Prolific, diverse, and actually, pretty damn good. However, they lacked direction, business saavy, good equipment, an agent, and at first, a van. The Coolies managed to stay together for three years, added a member, Fish, and recorded four times: Song Engines, Demockery, Idiodyssey, and Tim, Our Leader. A posthumous 4 disc set has been released which included all of the studio recording as well as the remains of a couple of nice live shows. The best part of that band was that all of the units remained in harmony and synchronization. No one left in disharmony. 15 years later, The Coolies still rock when three or four of them get together.
Immediately after the disintegration of the Coolies, The DNA Vibrator formed Satan's Monster Truck, quickly shortened to Monster Truck, because in southern Illinois, in 1991, it was serious business to take the devil's name in vain, or in earnest, for that matter. Monster Truck borrowed heavily from the Coolies vast library of songs. They made two studio recordings and two live recordings in two years. Those recordings included 8 Cylinder Baptism, and Untitled Demo.
In the summer of 1993-1994, Monster Truck imploded and two members recruited two fixtures of the Carbondale music scene to create CRANK. From 1993 to 1997, CRANK produced an untitled demo, a second untitled demo, and finally, the CD Garlic. Although functioning well within the group dynamic, it was clear that the elements that suited The DNA Vibrator were somewhat different than the elements which suited the entity CRANK. In 1995, The DNA Vibrator created its side and final project, The DNA Vibrators. It was created, as the liner notes read, with "something old, something new, something borrowed, and something super double kick-ass!" In order, those things would be: AfroDJYak, brand new songs, a song from the Coolies, and The Hand of God Attachment. The DNA Vibrators created two recordings which survived: Twin Rockets Are A Go, Baby!, and Unnatural Selection.
At present, The DNA Vibrator is working on educational music to help college students learn difficult course material, (so sensible it can't be true---but no bullshit, it is), and several tunes which do not readily fit under any other collaborator's name. Ultimately, there will be a third DNA Vibrator's record. Also, The DNA Vibrator is producing the tool's son's compositions. The tool's son, Carl, is calling himself Spazz, jr. Makes sense.
Permanent Historical Record: 9/20/2006
Today was a banner day. There was enough traffic on this little web creation to shut it down. This spurred The DNA Vibrator to let loose with some saved funds and upgrade its web offerings. The site looks the same (right now) but the capabilities of The DNA Vibrator have increased dramatically. It makes The DNA Vibrator almost feel...reckless. Expect more music on the site, soon. Expect more of the things you already ignore. Ignore it some more, and just see what happens. Like the conversion of 6-1/2 million tons of mass every second into energy in the center of the sun, ignoring The DNA Vibrator will not change the DNA Vibrator. Its function remains the same.
Permanent Historical Record: 9/21/2006
As another evening winds down, this website has undergone another overhaul. Of course this means nothing to you, the first time viewer, but means something to the typist who is even now staring at the screen watching this moment become recorded in some sparse textual way. Time, space, revisions, deletions, these are irrelevant to The DNA Vibrator. Some of you may have noticed that this blog is less a conversation and more of a monologic history. The DNA Vibrator will shortly incorporate a message posting system and/or an email to which you can post your thoughts. The DNA Vibrator may or may not share your thoughts with anyone else who reads this. It's The DNA Vibrator's website, and it doesn't have to share.
Permanent Historical Record: 9/22/2006
As of today, a message posting system was added to this blog page. Also, an adminstrative email was provided on the front page. And, apparently, right here, too. Let's see how long it takes to regret that move. If you are a spammer or are somebody trying to flood this site with crap more useless than what The DNA Vibrator already posts here, then The DNA Vibrator has learned a valuable lesson: You totally fucking suck. Thank you for teaching that lesson to The DNA Vibrator who now knows it would be better off without you leeches sucking on the balls of society. However, if you have a real question, comment, or wish to buy lots of other musical crap in which The DNA Vibrator has been involved, then by all means, post a comment and/or email away.
The DNA Vibrator now wishes to continue with some of the history of the band that never was. During the two recording sessions at Molehole Studio,the number 138 came up more often than chance should allow. First, it is the name of one of the songs on the record, "Unnatural Selection." It is the length of that song. It was the amount of money paid for the recording session. It was the name of one of the bands in which Dave appeared before The Hand of God Attachment was actualized. And a cupie doll to anyone who can tell The DNA Vibrator what other musically-related reference 138 has. It strikes The DNA Vibrator that at some point, The DNA Vibrator must create a song lyrics page for the songs that are currently uploaded.
As you may have noticed The DNA Vibrator is frugal: resource allocation is one of its functions. The first recording, which resulted in the album, "Twin Rockets Are A Go, Baby!" cost a grand total of one AKG D-112 microphone and a nice hand cart. The entire recording cost less to make than a pair of shoes, and was produced on equipment less sophisticated than a child's electronic toy.
Permanent Historical Record: 9/23/2006
An interesting note: All of the Nightsoil Coolies' songs posted on the [link broken--music download page--] were actually performed by Monster Truck, which was 3/4 Coolies and 1/4 Ralph, the drummer who with The DNA Vibrator, Fish, and Brian, built Monster Truck. They were recorded in 1992 during a show on Halloween, a holiday for which Carbondale and Southern Illinois University is infamous, at the Hangar 9.
That night, the smell of tear gas was in the air. It was one of the last times that SIU students "took" the Strip (the nickname of the street in town with all the nightclubs and college diners). Monster Truck was in rare form, and the sound off of the mixing board was pretty sweet. The DNA Vibrator is still pleased with how clear these recordings sound. Although the Coolies produced lots of material, somehow, the Coolies never produced a studio recording of these songs that sound as crisp as this live rendition turned out. At that time, Monster Truck was still playing about 50% Coolies music anyway. Besides, The DNA Vibrator penned these tunes (with the notable exception of the song, "Ballad of Minnesota," by Brian). It does not matter which entities rehearsed them.
Permanent Historical Record: 9/25/2006
Earlier, we discussed the birth of the Nightsoil Coolies, the first band of The DNA Vibrator which witnessed and realized some of The DNA Vibrator's purpose. The Coolies spontaneously emerged in the summer of 1988. By the fall, they were humiliated at Alexander Cole's. Two years later, this experience (and many others) would help The DNA Vibrator create the comic book, "Flaming Guitars." At some point, the DNA Vibrator will scan the pages of "Flaming Guitars" into a pdf document so that you can download it. But not today.
No, today, The DNA Vibrator will tell more of the story of the Coolies. In between the time of their first glorious practices, and their first humiliating performance, they adopted the name, the "Nightsoil Coolies." How? Why?
How: Well, the tool's mother, considered by anyone's measure who knew her to be one of the most intelligent people one would ever know, christened the band. One evening, when the as yet unnamed band stopped into the tool's parent's house, on a road trip away from college for a weekend, to her chagrin, she gave them the idea for the name of the band.
Why: Well, as the band and the tool's mom stayed up late talking one night, and the band members discussed such esoteric topics as whether the word "the" should actually be part of a band's name (it's ubiquitous, said the bass player, no it's not, said the drummer, what's ubiquitous, said the guitarist)they began to talk about being a band representing the lowest common demoninator, since they fully expected to suck at the most basic level. They wanted to affiliate themselves with those people performing the worst jobs a person could think of, to be "their" band (in an attempt to be "political," they somehow thought it would be cool to be some kind of symbol for the proletariat). So, many run of the mill kinds of jobs were bandied about. After they exhausted their possibilities, the tool's mom said, "Why don't you call yoursleves the Nightsoil Coolies? Nightsoil coolies have about the worst job you can imagine." The boys were intrigued. The tool's mom explained in short, that nightsoil coolies were oriental shit-collectors, those poorest of the poor in the far East who made their living by collecting full chamberpots (the nightsoil) from people's homes, preparing the human waste and then selling it for fuel or fertilizer for farmer's fields. The band was officially named that night.
The name had its detractors. For the first year or so, some point of each set was spent explaining to some drunk fuck, or some entertainment paper reporter, or some girlfriend of one of the guys in the band, exactly what the name meant. Before long, two shorthand versions of the name, NSC or simply, the Coolies, were how the band was referred to regularly. After the Alexander Cole's show, the group also earned the nickname, the Nightsoil Suckies. Of the two girls which started calling the Coolies the Nightsoil Suckies, one of them became the tool's wife! Thus began her long history of criticizing everything the tool does, and the tool's long history of deserving every word of it!
After the Alexander Cole's debacle, the Coolies played several terrific shows, at venues as diverse as their basement, 611 pizza, Tritos in Champaign, IL, and a frat house at Milliken University in Decatur, IL. At the frat house, they played for over 5 hours. They had to repeat everything they knew twice. Some of the stuff they played was either made up on the spot, or was stuff the other guys faked while Brian, the original Song Engine, strummed out the chords and sang an endless supply of lyrics.
It was at this show that the boys realized their purpose: Play, play music for anyone they could, in any venue that would have them, and relish every minute of it. They didn't think about making money, getting decent equipment, or road managers, booking agents, ratfuck club owners, drugs, drink, sluts, crime, and all of the other great things which would come their way. In the end, making music was what motivated them, enjoying the looks on the faces of people when they played something that people liked was the prize. To this day, no greater purpose has been achieved by The DNA Vibrator then when its bass guitar was shaking the plate glass windows in the Avalon niteclub on Belmont in Chicago more than the passing L trains were. The people who stood between the bass and the glass were hypnotized by the subsonic vibration, transfixed by the undefined fear response that sprang from the primitive gorilla inside all of them when those tones passed through them.
The DNA Vibrator has experienced few of those transcendent moments, but one was enough to convince it that a greater power than itself exists in the universe. This has been and continues to be one of the pursuits of The DNA Vibrator: To seek out its creator.
Permanent Historical Record: 9/26/2006
The DNA Vibrator had some time to kill, so it scanned in the original artwork for the cassette release, "Unnatual Selection." Look at it by clicking <>here.
A compilation of "Unnatrual Selection" and "Twin Rockets Are A Go, Baby!" was later released and called "The Hole Truth." That will be posted some time in the future.
Permanent Historical Record: 9/27/2006
Not long ago, a cousin of The DNA Vibrator died. He was a gifted musician, and like many musicians, was really a jack-of-all-trades. At one time, he ran a nightclub called MR. Bigstuffs in a little town called Mt. Zion. After the Nightsoil Coolies had been playing for a couple of years together, they had the bright (read completely fucking daft) idea of booking all their own shows. The band made many trips from Carbondale to Chicago, so whenever there was a club or bar in between at which they could play, they did. In passing conversation with the cousin, Danny, Danny suggested that the Coolies play his club. "Have you actually heard us, Danny?" asked the tool. "Hey cuz, it don't matter. You want to play? I'll give you a weekend." So, the Coolies took him up on it. As the show dates came closer, Danny had some difficulty with both nights. So they decided on one night, Friday. It was clear that he wanted out of the obligation, but at this point, the Coolies needed the money, and a smaller guarantee for one night was better than no money on both nights. The Coolies, too, if they had had the freedom to cancel the show would have. They were not looking forward to being heckled by rednecks for three hours. Or worse.
That night, Danny welcomed the Coolies into the club like family. They played, and by about the third song, many regulars had left the bar. By song number five, the folks still in the bar were saying, "I wonder what song that was supposed to be?" The call of "You suck!" preceded and followed each of their songs. This is not an exaggeration. Through the second set, silence followed most of the songs. After the second set, although the Coolies were willing to complete their obligation, Danny mercifully stopped the debacle. Unlike many bar owning scumbags, Danny paid the Coolies, and both Danny and the band learned something from the experience: Blood is thicker than water, but no matter what, college alternative rock will not fucking fly in a country cover band bar. The DNA Vibrator misses his cuz.
Permanent Historical Record: 9/28/2006
Music scenes come and go, as the old guard passes, graduates from college, or actually, once or twice, "makes it" professionally as musicians. When The DNA Vibrator emerged in the Carbondale, Illinois music scene, in the mid-1980's, it was as the torch was being handed down from one generation to the next. The old guard, October's Child, The Reform, Love Rhino, and Seven Men Vanish were exiting stage left, while the new guard, The Nightsoil Coolies, The Blue Meanies, Diet Christ, Fusebox, 138, Action Man, The Cruces, The Plugs, and dozens of others (don't get offended if you were overlooked by The DNA Vibrator---email or post a comment and see what happens!)were being ushered into the limelight. Many established clubs were still popular venues, but a group of underground house clubs also opened new avenues for exposure. Cafe Flesh, Club Romex, The Lost Cross House, Club Felix, and the venerable House of Voodoo, all flung their innocent-enough-by-day-doors wide open to be pits of sin and sound at night.
It no longer mattered if your band had credentials, or a demo, or experience, or talent! It only mattered that you wanted to play, and were willing to haul your equipment wherever there was a call for a show. In other words, the scene was perfect for the first vehicle of The DNA Vibrator. The music scene exploded with a wide variety of bands exploring old and new ground. The Coolies at once fit and did not within that scene. The DNA Vibrator was an odd duck even then.
Although there were many venues to play, there was one that became home to the underground music scene in Carbondale for the time it was open. 611 Pizza, on 611 S. Illinois Avenue (don't bother searching for it---it has long since closed) was a pizza joint ran by two Chinese immigrants, Sam (not his real name, but the one "assigned" to him as he was processed in San Francisco) and Lin. Their menu consisted of the Chinese interpretation of pizza, and also fried rice and crab rangoon. In other words, the perfect restaurant. Every now and then, they would experiment with something new on the menu, french fries one week, hamburgers the next, but the pizza, the pizza brought the bands back. Not because it was good. No, it honestly sucked. Because it was as much the people's pizza as 611 Pizza's pizza. Maybe some of that old style communism rubbed off on the bands and crowd who frequented there.
It seemed that every month the layout of 611 Pizza would change, but there was always room for a stage, a band and tons of people crowded inside. The regular patrons would be the people Sam would enlist to help change the look of his place. The patrons would be the ones who he hired to work his grill, and to run the door. This is why his place became the scene's place. Beer would flow, original music would shake the walls, and people would keep the place packed until closing time, 2 am.
When Sam got in financial trouble, the local bands played several benefits to keep the club's doors open. When he was closed by the Health Department, the local bands spent the weekend cleaning the place from top to bottom. There were some times that the only way AfroDJYak and the tool of The DNA Vibrator were able to eat was because they played a gig up at 611. Sam always gave the bands free pizza and beer. 611 was about the only way that bands like the Coolies were seen outside of the basement, at least at first. It was like the bar, Cheers, except with a lot more tattoos, leather, black make-up, puking, pot smoking, and hardcore music.
Eventually, people move on. Sam moved on, and after a few of glorious years, 611 pizza finally closed. The new guard prompted the old guard to exit stage left. Sam is still in Carbondale. His family is doing well. If any of you old guard are still in Carbondale, if you see Sam, you will recognize him. Say hello for us all.
Permanent Historical Record: 9/30/2006
As this is the last post of the month, the DNA Vibrator understands that it is convention to archive a previous month's posts and provide a link to them for your convenience. Well, FUCK convention. Until The DNA Vibrator records a thousand hits a day, until the WORLD is indoctrinated to The DNA Vibrator's unflinching philosophy, then this blog stays unarchived. Unless The DNA Vibrator gets around to making an archive page, and then it will likely happen without much fanfare. EITHER way, the message of THE DNA Vibrator remains clear, but misunderstood.
Link here to see a pdf scan of <>The Hole Truth, the remastered CD, a "limited edition with an unlimited supply" (a special treat to the person who contacts The DNA Vibrator with what song that line is from) which combined all of the previously recorded work by the DNA Vibrators onto one disc.
The DNA Vibrator has learned how some scanned files slow down the speed of loading this blog. That is something that The DNA Vibrator would wish to avoid. It will try to make all picture references within the blog to link to a separate page or image, so you don't have to look if you don't want. Why don't you want to? What's wrong with you?
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