Saturday, November 24, 2012

The Infection.

Back in high school, I was in a few different bands. It was always the same group of guys, but it would constantly keep changing, evolving or completely start over because the drummer would come up with an even better band name than the one we already had.  We possessed a certain musical skill, yes, but it wasn't really that good.  We SO TOTALLY wanted to be The Ramones, with simplistic chord structure and goofy lyrics about junk food and girls.  I hate using the term "pop-punk," and abhor whatever connection you're making in your head about the music we played and bands that live under the banner of "pop-punk." but I suppose it's the best description.  Because most it what you think of "pop-punk" sucks.  Except, like, the bands that didn't suck.  It's quite impossible to justify any of this.

One such incarnation of the band, The Infection, was attempting to play a high school battle of the bands, a rare chance to show off to all the cute girls that didn't involve lifting weights in front of people or generally just looking attractive.   And I have no idea where we came of with "The Infection."  We wanted something tough and chick magnet-y, but it ended up sounding gross and pus-filled.  Which I suppose was pretty cool with me.

We had to turn in a demo to see if we were worthy enough to play the show (a clever ploy to see if you swore too much or sang about punching Jesus) so we gave them a cassette tape, complete with hand drawn cover art.  This is that cover art:


I wrapped it up just right and shoved into a cassette box.  Cassette tape holder?  The thing that holds/protects the cassette tape.  What are they even called again?

A mummy, an alien, a squid-thing, a planetary landscape and a beatnik guy jamming to his record player.  I'm sure I couldn't remember if I tried, but I'm guessing that even back then, there was no rhyme or reason to my artistic interpretation of the band.  I really liked drawing space creatures and guitars.

Two songs were featured.  "Forever" and "Jessica's Song."  Please kill me now.

Unfortunately/fortunately, nothing ever came of our lil' band.  It mostly consisted of two other guys (plus a few stragglers, here and there) where we played a few shows and thought we were awesome and gonna be millionaires in no time.  We're all still friends, if only because Facebook tells us we are.  Peeking into their lives via updates and personal postings, I've found that one dude is gallivanting around New York as a musician/recording engineer and the other is a full-blown dad with a bald head and a desk job.

Weird, man.

2 comments:

  1. Kind of ironic that you write about a band you once had while actually having the said condition. I'm guessing it's intentional. Neato!

    But, if I may be so bold as to make a request...

    *Please* design a Calabrese shirt! Your drawings have this...and please don't be angry at me for saying this...Sanrio-esque cuteness to them that is really rather appealing. And, seeing as how I'm the picky type when it comes to clothing, this would be the perfect excuse to spend more money on Cala-merch.

    Just a thought. ;)

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  2. Hey, thanks! I'll see what I can do. The first step is to actually DO, though. Which I can never seem to do. Ha!

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