On December 31, 1990 Phish played the World Trade Center in Boston. While the ticket didn't mention any opening band - unlike the previous year where the Ululators were labeled quite clearly on the ducat - my hopes of a nice, long New Year's show were ruined by the surprise appearance of this band Chucklehead.

Not only did they get an opening set, but they got to play almost as long as Phish did. Moreover, their music was a god awful quasi-hip hop thing that wanted lots of audience participation. All I remember from their set is two call and responses, "What's our name? [Chucklehead]" and "Where are you from? [Answer with where we were from]."

The thing is though that this was nearly 16 years ago and I'm prone to exagerate if it makes a better story. I remember this show being one of the worst things I've ever been subjected to in my Phish career but how much of that was me blaming them for the WTC turning on the lights on the band as they were huddled for the encore? Well now I get to find out. Much to my surprise, the show is on archive.org. How can I resist checking out a set that I've been mocking for a decade and a half?

The first thing I'm learning is that I wasn't off about the length of their set. Phish played two 50 minute sets. Chucklehead got one set that clocked in at 77:58. My anger about this show was indeed justified and this is a year before I started timing.

So how is the music? The first song already has them attempting a call and response where the boys in the crowd are supposed to say, "Chucklehead so chilly," and the women will then respond with, "So Milli my Vanilli" No one is doing it at all which makes it even funnier.

By the middle of the third song, this is becoming torture. The horn section isn't bad in a frat rock kind of way, but whenever the vocalists say anything, it makes me want to punch them. "Stalagamite [sic]" has the exciting call of response of, "All right/All right/All right/All right." Now that's my idea of a good lyric.

"Ab Traffic Jam" is the second song to have "Chucklehead" as a lyric. Most of the vocals on this song aren't coming out well on the mix so I can't mock it too much, but the road geek wants to explain to them that the Tappan Zee is not a good route to get yourself out of New Jersey because the bridge doesn't enter the state. That's nitpicking though.

"You Don't Have to Give it Up" is an attempt to break up the bad rap with bad rhythm and blues. What does the singer have to sing about?

It makes me think of all the children crying
Because all their hearts are broken
And it makes me think of all the young girls sighing
Because of words unspoken
And it makes me think of all the young men dying
Cause of too much toking.

That pot death count is pretty high isn't it? At least he remembers to sing about "Chucklehead brothers" and "Chucklehead sisters" in case we've forgotten the band name in the last five minutes. Musically, this song isn't that bad to be honest and I suppose that the main moral of the song ("No means no") is commendable. By far the best song of the set so far.

So, of course, as soon as the song ends, they announce the band name AGAIN and start telling us to clap. We all know how much I love that kind of thing. It then goes into a Gulf War protest song of all things. "Shut up Dan Quayle," gets bonus points just for how dated of a reference it is.

Picture the scene here. Chucklehead has been playing for about 40 minutes now. I've been trying to understand why exactly Phish isn't on stage but I figured that at least the set has to be nearly over. Instead of ending though, they break into a song that first says, "You don't suck/You don't fuck/We bought a duck the other day," and then - after a long explanation about how we all have brought something amazing with us, launches into a chorus of

If you're funky and you know it shake your butt.
(If you're funky and you know it shake your butt.)
If you're funky and you know it shake your butt.
(If you're funky and you know it shake your butt.)
If you're funky and you know it and you really want to show it, if you're funky and you know it shake your butt.
(If you're funky and you know it and you really want to show it, if you're funky and you know it shake your butt.)

After doing that three times, they reprise the immortal duck line, and it's at this point where I understand exactly why I still remember this set with hatred. What I'm trying to figure out is how I refrained from jumping on stage at this point and attacking these people.

That's what's amusing me so much about this set. I'm trying to picture just how angry I was getting - especially considering I was still two weeks shy of my 22nd birthday on this day; I've mellowed with age - as they just kept playing and babbling. There's the penis bragging line of, "My steering wheel is mighty big" in "Funky Bus," there's the attempt to get us all to chant, "I don't know what I've been told/Chucklehead ain't got no soul" (Should they be insulting themselves like that? That's my job), but most importantly I found the thing I've been referencing for years.

Some 70 minutes into their set we get:

I just got a little question for you all:
What's the name of my band?
Say what?
What's the name of my band?
(Chucklehead)
What's the name of my band?
(Chucklehead)

There was indeed a long call and response - I only quoted the very beginning of this to spare you - involving the band name. I was wrong about the one about where we were from though. The closest that happened to that was a long list of all of the Boston suburbs that the funky bus was going to.



So my memory was off a bit, but I think I got the general picture right. It is weird that one of my strong memories of the set never happened but it's good to know that I wasn't slighting a band for no reason.

Current Mood: amused, very amused
Current Music: See post