This is Google's cache of . Google's cache is the snapshot that we took of the page as we crawled the web. The page may have changed since that time. Click here for the current page without highlighting. Google is not affiliated with the authors of this page nor responsible for its content. These search terms have been highlighted: smelly melt banana The ICE PICK racist or not? you decide? I was ready for this, but was the band? Was the town? You decide! The tour had been real plain, white bread with no butter. just average shows with small attendance. up through the northwest with the molecules, across the rocky mountains and into the flats of south Dakota. A few van problems with not one personality problem. well except for mine; that was, not much had happened! lost some clothes, played to some white bullshit indie rock audiences. But nothing really rocked my nads. I knew that Muskegon was coming up. Really I wish I had wrote about this at an earlier date, but having to work and sleep took me away from the keys. The fuel pump was not doing well but we had five shows in four days and no time to really fix it properly. We played the first show for skin graft in Chicago and it went well, 96 people to watch the Banana kids. My friends were working the bar so they kept me juiced up with orange and grape juice. Seeing Melt Banana do not drink booze, that is all the want. Milk and juice. The people who ran the Skin Graft show fell short of supplies, well 70% of the clubs have. But being that Melt Banana were the favorite band on this label I expected more. All in all I knew that Muskegon would rock us like no other. I drove the band straight to the biker capital of Michigan. Lost my way in the Heights looking for the old Ice pick. Upon arrival Mark gave me the twenty dollars he owed me for the melvinšs show four years ago, then 40 dollars for a buy out to eat on. I asked where we could get some Asian food and they all answered the same place. Jake; a real live NAZI offered to take us. Since I knew him and knew he was a pure racist, Of course I said yes, why donšt you come eat with us. Well he did, he told me how often can you eat nip food with real live nips? Off we went to get the ice pick show of a life time. The town was crawling with cops, police and pigs. Jake has several warrants out for his arrest. But we manage to eat in a half decent restaurant and the band seemed to like the food. I hated mine and so did Sudoh. We fed the NAZI and went back to the club. At the door Mark was real nervous. Well I would be to If I smoked as much crack as he does. Slowly the crowd started to gather. The first thing I saw, that I remembered was the graffiti on the bathroom wall (TODD NUGENT IS GOD!) I agreed and took my dump. After this a few of the racist slurs started to show up, I could hear the chants starting already. Rice grinder, Rice Grinder, Rice Grinder. I read the walls a few more times, then I remembered what it was all about. Black death, Racism works both ways, Nigger Hate and Dead fat lips. I remember what we were here for. I told NOAB booking that I wanted to create a racial tension to see if Melt Banana could survive. Deanna disagreed firmly. But I didn't care. They would be at my mercy. The opening band was a metal hybrid of punk, doing Butthole Surfers covers (new ones at that) and Black Sabbath war pigs. Songs about loving your guns more then your wife. A real Mentors type of band. Long hair and drunk red necks. Dan boy was the drummer, the guitars from Public Menace was the bassist and a new guy Mike on guitar. I knew most of the fuckers here tonight, so little was lost in thought. The opener played for a good hour. At times I thought Melt Banana were going to cry, at other times I thought they would wet their pants with laughter. From the first song of the opener, beer cans were sent flying, like the scene in the blues brothers movie. Except there was no chicken wire. well I could still see that melt banana was terrified, but if they could handle this crowd they could handle any fucking crowd. Beside they had the Mr. bungle experience behind them now. Well a few of my friends asked me if they could fuck the girls? I told them After they fucked me they could fuck the girls. That turned them off right away. The fucking opener played for a hour and ten minutes, this created lots of anticipation with the melt banana band. After about 50 beer cans, two fights, three girls wrestling and FEW thousand racist blurbs. It was time for the Japanese to take the stage. But remember we have a three hundred dollar guarantee, and mark had already paid for dinner, bought water for us and wanted us to play. The look on Melt Bananas face was more then I could stand. I had perma grin, from ear to ear. All I knew was that they were about to be tested by the toughest crowd/scene in America! Its not a large scene but it is a healthy fuck you, go die place. Remember GG Allin made his home here for two years. I told the band they could do what they wanted. Not play, Play, Play long, Play short, what ever it took. Just do it and lets get out of town. Sudoh said lets go home. (he was just joking) but the rest were to shocked to really say anything. I believe Agata was willing to risk it all. But it was wrong of me to put the girls in danger! Or was it? Time will tell. When I set up, the girls would just look at me and sigh. Then they would laugh. After a few minutes the racists slurs started up again. Go back to Japan you slant eye gooks. Rice grinders go to hell. I donšt really think Melt Banana heard them. You know several bands have had their ass kicked in Muskegon, even Detroit skins have had a rough time. The place was full of Bikers with long hair, greasy fuckers with motley crew t-shirts, carrying twelve packs of Bush and Pabst Blue ribbon. Before we could start I asked them if it was okay, did they feel like they could handle it? All of them Just nodded yes. Before the first note was struck beer was thrown, wham Sudoh was hit with cans. Agata stepped up and the edge of the stage was lit up with noise. Flam they were off doing their break neck, speed, noise, driving rock. From the first note the audience went Bezzerk. Throwing beer cans, saluting and Zieg Hiels. Flying in circles and wrestling with each other. The band stood back, A bit confused and dazed by this all new exciting turmoil that had been thrust into their life. This mother fucker with Long Hair and a beard came up to YaSuKo and started to lick her. He looked like me, a lot. But there was nothing I was going to do. At this point it was sink or swim. After the first break between songs she asked him if he could PLEASE stop that. Well fuck no was the answer and he showered the band in Beer. I looked him over, from head to toe. He was about 6 foot, Had a pint of Jack Daniels half empty in his back pocket of his 501 Levis, Brown cowboy boots, A 8 inch buck knife strapped to his side and a Harley T-shirts that says love it or leave it, Its my country. The polite buy out was not going to work this time. I could see the frustration in YaSuKo face. It was mounting as time had passed in this set. The music just fueled the beer drinking and the beer drinking fueled the insults and the insults started to fuel the band. Rika was backed up on the drum riser, looking good, but semi worried, I motioned to Sudoh to keep the set flowing, keep that monster moving, he did. GO GO Go. Agata was out font playing his heart out. Swinging his axe like a mad fucking idiot. I saw a new man born right on that stage. Never before have they encountered a hostile crowd that was in front of them with No Barrier. The bearded red neck was back and licking YaSuKo, I finally stepped out of the shadows and gave her the okay fingers. She then instantly baited that man with seduction. As soon as he was close enough to touch her she nailed him with her boot. The man fell back wards and was never seen again. Now that's how to handle a crowd. The band kept rocking as fast as they could. The Audience consumed even more beer. It was so fucking amazing to see the banana kids grow right then and there. There was punks older then me here. Punks I knew for over 16 years. The kind who like the Mentors and the Dead Kennedys. Drunk girls who fall on the floor pulling up on any male that would give them a glance. Half naked and half drunk. Just looking for someone to be with for this night. Beer worship, now this was the most important part of Muskegon, FUCKING love your Beer, swilling, spilling, saluting the can of beer. Just wasted drunk, Just fucked up and face down dunk. The shitty P.A. That drove Yasuko crazy, Stacks of feed back is what I like to call them. It would never stop, just BBBUZZZZ the whole night. YaSuKo started to play the feed back game, sort of point and pull at the speakers. Her face was pissed off, a sight I have never saw before. She too has had enough. The owner, booker was a definite crack head. He whipped out his glass pipe at the table, right at the fucking entrance and began to smoke. He even asked me if I wanted some? Fuck what a night. At times I miss it, and there are times I know why I left. Was it right for me to bring them here? Racist punks verses Indie Polite rockers? Was I in the wrong? Did the band Survive? Well it sure did something to their spirit! After the music had stopped and the band had became a new unit. I grabbed the Microphone and said Hey you stupid Red Necks, They donšt know if you love them or hate them? Well at this point the forty five people erupt into a Melt Banana chant. Kicking and stomping around, just like a barn yard dance laced with moon shine. They loved Melt Banana and they werenšt going to let them go with out a few more tunes. two more for the red necks and then it was all hell. I told the girls to sell T-shirts and the boys were to tear down and load out. With in minutes I had the equipment broke down and ready to be moved. Jake the NAZI helped me get it outside and into the van. The crowd was still there, always asking me questions. Want to Party? Want to Go fishing? I got whiskey at home, want get drunk? the girls were still selling t-shirts and records. I grabbed the band and pushed them outside. The audience followed behind. I opened the doors and told them to get in the van. I went back into the club for A dummy check, found the dat player and hit the door. At the van I could see the kids were still hanging onto Melt Banana. Like the were the fucking Beatles. They wanted their last glimpse and touch of the Melt Banana kids. They; (MUSKEGON) still wanted us to have an after the show party. I told my friends we were going to see my Father and I hadnšt seen him in three years. It was the truth and the perfect excuse to leave this town high and dry. As soon as we got around the corner, the van exploded with laughter. Then they asked me if they could play in Muskegon next year? I said of course you can, but do you really want to? The response was simple and clear. Melt Banana said our friends back home will not believe this show. In Japan everyone sits down and applause after each song. We are very excited to play Muskegon again. Our friends back home can not imagine what it was like. Well there is a video tape of this show! I have to get it from MIKE. The guitar player in the first band taped the Melt Banana set. Ill make sure they can take this home to Japan. Well for me this was it. The test of weak verses strength. They passed with the brightest of flying colors. Well it might have BEEN WRONG FOR ME TO PUT MELT BANANA into a situation that could have ended violently. My faith was in the music and the strength of personality that Melt Banana possess. After all how many times do you get to see the true colors of America? Smelly MUSTAFA Nolubes. to mean1.html (end page 7 - musk.html)