13th
My Dinner With Flipper
So we did this show Friday, outdoors at the Oakland Museum of California, and it was great fun and full of surprises.
I had been very curious as the date approached, because I saw on the bill none other than Flipper was playing. Now, Flipper is a band that if you know about them, you have an opinion about them. Probably as many people love and celebrate Flipper’s existence as there are people who curse them as the foulest outrage ever to walk onstage. Either thing is entertaining, that is, people who hate Flipper have great fun doing so, so that has to be seen as a form of entertainment in itself. A little background might help.
Back in the early 80’s, when American hardcore punk was quickly being defined as very fast, aggressive music, Flipper would show up and do something very different indeed. On a bill with the likes of Dead Kennedys and sometimes ten opening acts, each playing faster tempos and shorter songs than the last, out comes Flipper. Playing slow dirge-like numbers for as long as they pleased, with huge, ugly distortion from not one but two bassists, who by turns howled into a mic while the other played bass lines which evoked doom and catastrophe, they were the noisiest scariest thing you ever heard. It was splendid.
I was loving it back then, even as some “hardcore” kids heckled and threw various items at the band. Flipper’s offense, it seems, was non-conformity. How dare you play differently from the sacred hardcore sound that we have collectively decided is cool? Somehow Flipper knew exactly where that button was and how to push it, and this they did with a certain glee. The more pissed off the audience got, the greater success for Flipper. Dude it was art. It was hilarious, and it was brave. As for me, I actually liked their songs, too. The spectacle was cool enough, but “Ha Ha Ha,” “Sex Bomb,” “Sacrifice” and some of the other tunes they wrote, were compelling and highly original pieces.
After sound check, as Moose and I walked through the parking lot, there was today’s Flipper hanging by their vehicles, so we stopped to chat for a sec. They wanted to borrow our horn section, and asked which Flipper songs we knew! I’m sure Adam knows every Flipper song, but he wasn’t around and we had to split, so the idea never materialized.
Afflicted with a condition much like Spinal Tap’s drummer curse, Flipper has lost several bass players along the way, including founding member Will Shatter (is there a better punk rock name?). Most recently Krist Noveselic has stepped up to the plate, which is perfect since Nirvana were well known Flipper fans. All this added up to a great deal of anticipation for those who knew, balanced by total indifference from those who were there for the many other fine attractions throughout the museum grounds.
It was a beautiful evening, and a surreal setting. I marveled that of the many strange ways we humans self-organize, outdoor summer festivals are among the best.
With little ceremony, under a moon made orange by the smoke of wildfires, Flipper lurched onto the stage and managed in a short span of time to polarize the audience, with some individuals grinning uncontrollably like madmen who were in on a great and terrible prank, and others who could barely turn their heads away as if staring at an awful traffic accident. Add to that some total adulation from punkers way too young to have seen them in their heyday, some real booing and heckling from baffled onlookers, all together creating the strangest sound I think I’ve ever heard an audience make. Flipper it turns out, in their devious way, doesn’t just play music, they play the audience. It was the same thing only different, twenty some years later.
Funniest part for me though was right after the Uptones set: I sat down on a bench in the outdoor backstage area to come down for a minute, and was approached by some adoring young Flipper fans. They proudly showed off their Flipper tatoos, and thanked me sincerely for playing. I was in shock from just having walked off stage, and so deeply amused that these kids thought I was in Flipper, that I just couldn’t bring myself to bust their illusion. They’d figure it out soon enough, I reasoned, as Flipper would be onstage in 15 minutes or so anyway and then they’d see who was really in the band. Then I thought.. wait, they didn’t just watch the Uptones set and think WE were Flipper?? No, no, they had tatoos! That means they have records, probably vinyl they got on eBay and wore out the grooves long before coming to the show. Nope. Only explanation is there really aren’t many photos of Flipper out there. If there was ever a band who would not have an 8x10 glossy (back then) or an EPK (today) it would be them. So, I was in Flipper, for a minute, in the minds of a few sweet kids. They seemed so happy to meet a real live Flipper. Somehow I think Flipper would approve.