Aside from having an album called Total Fucking Blowout and being the band that many of us cut our underground punk rock show teeth on, the Fireballs of Freedom have just got a presence and personality that's fully impossible to deny. "FoF" started in North Dakota as a band called Honky Sausage, moved to Montana in 1992 or 1993 after Ear Candy Music's John Fleming told them these were fertile pastures for the kind of high plains, country-boogie-punk-whatever-exactly-you-wanna-call-it rock and roll they were blasting out. And it turned out that Missoula and the Fireballs was a match similar in potency to coffee and cigarettes, chocolate and peanut butter, Peaches/Herb, etc. etc. etc. Missoula loved, and I'd hazard loves the Fireballs like few other things.
Missoula was a waaaay different feeling place in the 1990s. Namely, those of us who are older now, were younger then. There's your big difference. But also, the town was a fair piece grittier with rickety Jay's Upstairs defaulting as a venue for everybody worth their salt from about '93-'03. Everyone smoked, and did so indoors. Craft beer wasn't widely available. Gasoline cost less. Rent cost less. There wasn't an Ear Candy for a lot of the decade. There wasn't much of an internet. Zines existed. Dreadlocks were in vogue. Shows cost less. Bands constantly came through and played for too little door money.
FOF
A person could fill a decent sized book with Fireballs of Freedom stories. I won't here, because they're better I think as oral histories, told by friends, the band and acquaintances. It's exciting to me that the Fireballs haven't stopped, they've made some small lineup adjustments, don't tour nearly as often and probably are far steadier in their personal lives for it. They still are a completely blistering band, and regardless of your thoughts on the kind of music they lay down, you owe it to yourself to enjoy the unhinged power and love for music they bring.
When I first heard that Fireballs
of Freedom were putting things back together, I wasn't sure what
to expect. It's not like I thought the guys didn't have the chops to
do it (both Kelly and the Leaders
and Sammy and Lords of
Falconry have played Total Fest the past couple of years), but
it's been a few years since FoF "took a break." Although
they had "reunited" a couple of times, my fear was that the
new reality would be overshadowed by my cloudy, nostalgic memories.
Excitement, meet pushing 40.
I didn't move to Missoula until 1998 so
I can't give you all the dirt and grime that some of our fellow
Missoulians can, but I was told that I must see FoF any and every
time the local legends played. My neighbors were rabid fans, filling
my head with tales of sweaty, drug and whiskey crazed shows, and
after-hour parties that would last through the weekend. My neighbors
were also kind of crazy -- one time, while playing chess on the
porch, a drawer full of knives crashed through the front window. A
few speared into the wood and couch, and when I looked inside,
female-neighbor was rushing back to the kitchen for more things to
throw and male neighbor was reaching for another baking sheet.
Good times.
Anyway, I wasn't sure I wanted to be
involved with anything they were involved with. I don't remember all
of the ins and outs (who opened, what songs were played, etc.) of the
first FoF show that I saw, but it was one of the first times I had
seen Jay's packed to the stairwell. When FoF took the stage, I had a
few reservations. I lose patience with macho, bro rawk and I have
less patience with gimmicks. To my delight, the gimmicks weren't
present, and when Kelly Gately (Gator) launched into his dizzying
verbal cadence, I knew that I was in for something more than any
record could represent (and this was before the music started).
Once the first drum stick hit and the guitars flexed and squealed, it
went the way as any love story. I was smitten. It was loud, blitzed
out, fuzzy, and raucous with some of the best showmanship that I have
ever seen. There is a lot of press out there about the Fireballs, but
if you're curious about more of their history, check here
and here.
Fast forward to the present. I was
lucky enough to catch the Fireballs reunion show when they opened up
for X at Dante's
in February this year. The show was sick and quickly put to rest all
of my "worries."
Seriously.
FoF's energy was the same controlled
chaos that my patchwork memory put together, but the music possessed
a new level of skull swirling psych-scuzz.
Atomic Punk is back, people.
It's a no brainer for us to invite
Fireballs back to Total Fest; it should be a no brainer for you to be
there when they play. These cats (Kelly, Sammy, Von, and Adrian) are
the real-deal. It's a flurry of guitar, drums, and vocals that push
the bounds of showmanship while it blisters you with its psych-punk
explosions. This space is too small to throw in all the varying
stories of the past, so please feel free to add comments and
anecdotes. Thankfully, FoF is a full fledged band again, and 2013
provides us a new opportunity to build new memories and friendships.
plus, Gator is wearing a Lubricated Goat shirt!
Thursday, June 2, 2011
LEADERS. NOT FOLLOWERS. The weird paranoid-mysanthropic punk of the Leaders is as a little bit disturbing when you see it. It's awesome too, and ultimately first, but they're a band that has a vibe that something big might go wrong at a show. Their singer Donnie, whose astutely detailed collage-art robotic animal mechs are on all the band's releases, has a way of kind of making folks concerned for their safety and stoked at the same time. He wraps the mic chord around his neck, he tears apart beer cans and cuts his forehead, and.... he sings.
And meanwhile, you've got this excellent melody driving the whole thing, and a gronky Korg sounds giving it a sort of future-o vibe. But don't get the wrong idea. It's not some sort of gimmicky we're-really-into-Devo sort of deal. It's weird and lives in a world of it's own creation. Or, maybe Donnie's. Yes, it's clear it's Donnie's world, and that former Missoulian (Honky Sausage/Fireball of Freedom) and-rarely-side-man Kelly Gately's also in the band only makes it the more compelling. Kelly's a guitar player with few peers, and what's nice about Leaders is that it's kind of an exercise in spartan playing, not normally Kelly's bag.
Seems like we've gotten this far without exactly explaining what this stuff is all about!? Man, take a look at these vidz, howbout?
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
LORDS OF FALCONRY TO BRING PSYCHELIC SONICS If you’ve been a Missoulian and fan of music whose time in town began or, covered somewhat the 90s, then you know the name Sammy James Adams. Sammy was one of the wild crop of North Dakota transplants who rolled into town after John Fleming, Ear Candy Music (Missoula’s awesome independent record store) proprietor, bassist for the Helltones, Everyday Sinners, Hellgate Stranglers, Oblio Joes, Secret Powers etc. Yeah, so these NoDakkers were a wild bunch. Fast talking, hard partying, and fun as bag of fireworks. Sammy was the drummer for Honky Sausage, who at some point in time decided to become the Fireballs of Freedom. The Balls should need no introduction, but to cover our bases, they were a raucous psychedelic, punk, garage band whose live shows filled Jay’s Upstairs with loud, high speed prairie rock, and spilled into all-night blowout afterparties. Sammy James was the Fireballs’ drummer, and for a band filled with talented dudes, Sammy James’ drum style was hard to top. The guy hits hard, plays fast, and sits more upright on his stool than anyone I’ve ever witnessed. When the Fireballs were on, they were really, really on. And that was about 98.9 percent of the time.
So, now it’s around ten years later and Sammy’s got a new band, interestingly called Lords of Falconry. If you’re familiar with Sammy, that’s not a surprising name. The guy’s a scholar of Masonic cults, numerology, conspiracy and err, the ancient ways. The other half of Lords of Falconry is Steven Wray Lobdell whose past work includes guitaring with Faust(!), Sufi Mind Game and dozens of other wild psych folks. He’s recorded for the Klangbad, Holy Mountain, Ektro and Holy Mountain labels and lays down some of the bent-est psych this side of Gong. His discography is a who's who of the wildest and best from underground Americans, kraut pioneers and all things in between.
