Tag Archives: Steve Bennett

Time to kick out the jams, mother fuckers.

Get Music Here

Jesus, how the hell did they make that image? Did they use chisels and clay tablets? I can’t even read the fricking thing. You know you’ve been around too long as a band when your earliest promo packages were written in cuneiform.

Well, it’s the doldrums of summer once again, which means we’re digging into the archives and mining our inglorious past for the occasional nugget of … whatever. I’m starting to think that Big Green was founded before the invention of the camera. Actually, it’s simpler than that – we started playing before everyone had broadcast-quality video production studios riding in their pockets.

As a result, there aren’t a lot of shots of us playing, hanging out, cavorting, etc. It’s almost like we didn’t exist before the late nineties, and we most assuredly did. But back in the day, you had to wait for the photographer to show up …. and when you’re broke, it’s a long wait.

Live from someplace

Big Green has some old recordings, of course. And yes, we’re working on new recordings (or at least rehearsing new songs) now, but we’re always digging out the oldies, cause that’s just how we roll. Just this week, I posted the first installment of our E.P. LIVE FROM NEPTUNE on our YouTube Channel – a song called Merry Christmas, Jane, a version of which also appeared on our first album, 2000 Years To Christmas. Because it’s YouTube, I covered the video screen with stills from our video demo and other random shots. Again, not a lot to choose from.

Why “Live From Neptune”? It made sense at the time. Mind you, we recorded the songs live to tape in Jeremy Shaw’s basement. This was a year after we played an outdoor concert at his house along with a couple of other bands. (I’ve posted a couple of tracks from that gig on THIS IS BIG GREEN.) We were working up a demo of some original songs, playing a bunch of takes straight into a DAT machine. (This was 1994, mind you.) Merry Christmas, Jane was one of them.

I feel pixilated, damn it!

Stop action headbangers

Then there were the gigs we played at bars around where we lived in upstate New York. Most of those were kind of unmemorable. And again, no photographs … or very few. I have a handful of shots from one night we played at a club named Fat City in West Utica, NY. We played there a bunch of times over the years, sometimes under assumed names, like I-19. (There’s some video of one of those nights on YouTube, courtesy of friend of the band and former I-19 guitarist/vocalist Steve Bennett.)

I suppose it’s just bad luck that back when we were younger and less crispy looking, nobody had a camera. Now that we’re old geezers, there are cameras everywhere. It reminds me how, at one of my day gigs, the standard retirement gift was a company-branded wall mirror. What’s the last thing you want when you’re hanging up your skates? But I digress. Eyes forward, Perry – that’s the stuff. Never mind what’s behind, watch what’s ahead in stead. Harrrrumph!

Advanced boxology

Hey look what I found – an old poster or five. You never know what’s in the next box. Actually, the last five boxes had other boxes in them. One of them has the key to time in it, or so the legend goes.

Scratching out a whole new way of itching

Get Music Here

Okay, that club on Route 5 … was that the Garden Cafe or Looney Tunes? It feels more like the latter than the former, frankly. Jesus, what the hell am I asking YOU for? The only thing YOU remember is random facts about some log cabin and the battle of Gettysburg. And even THAT you get backwards. (Though to you it seems forwards.)

In case you’re worried, no, we’re not writing a memoir of Big Green. Who the fuck would buy that? If nothing else, I can practically guarantee that there will never be a (1) tell-all retrospective, (2) drippy bio-pic, or (3) lost journal having to do with this, the world’s most obscure indie rock group that ever recorded more than 100 of their own songs. That said, we will milk it for a blog post or two. The first one was last week; the second, this week. The third will have to wait its turn.

Back to the Early ’90s

So anyway, in the early nineties we made the questionable decision of basing ourselves in the Utica, NY area, our home town, which at the time was not on a particular upswing culturally. We started by working with guitarist Armand Catalano, playing clubs and campuses around the region, serving up our own songs plus an assortment of covers. As I mentioned last week, the guitar seat in Big Green was governed by the rules of musical chairs, pretty much. Armand played with us, then friend of the band Steve Bennett, and later, other friend of the band Jeremy Shaw.

This was fine, except when we got confused and called guitarists by the wrong first name. There were occasional gaps as well, unsurprisingly. But the gigs we played then represented the least of what was going on in our tiny little world. None of them were in the least high-profile events. We opened for Mere Mortals at MVCC sometime in 1991 , I think. We opened once for Joe Bonamassa’s Bloodline at what is now known as SUNY Poly in Utica, probably in 1993. We played Middlebury College one New Year’s, if I recall correctly. And then there were a bunch of dead end bars.

The output was put out

The thing was, by the early nineties, Matt Perry was writing songs like a house afire. He was writing his Christmas numbers – a new album every holiday season. And he was cranking out a bunch in-between. (No, he didn’t write songs about Saint Swithin’s day – that’s just an ugly rumor about Big Green that some meteorologist started.) We were doing piles of demo recordings, and we managed to get into a studio a few times (the former AcqRok, thanks to friend of Big Green Bob Acquaviva of Mere Mortals.)

We had some live recordings as well. We’ve played a few of them on our podcast, THIS IS BIG GREEN, and there are a few more we haven’t posted as of yet. Probably the best ones of these are the DAT recordings we made in Jeremy Shaw’s basement in 1993 (or ’94? I don’t freaking know.). Then there was the video demo done by some hipster dude named Angel who worked at a vegetarian restaurant and considered the VHS tape he recorded for us some kind of masterpiece (when it wasn’t).

Yesterday is not today

So, the upshot of all this is, we have a better audio record of the 1990s than we do of the 1980s, when the only technology we could afford was a bic lighter and a pack of Marlboros. Ever try to run sound through a pack of Marlboros? It ain’t pretty. Makes a kazoo sound like a brass freaking band.

The many incarnations of one Big Green

Get Music Here

Ever watch Dr. Who? Sure you have. And no doubt you’ve seen how he regenerates himself every once in a while. It’s like restarting an old computer, except that when it’s done booting, it’s a new computer. That almost NEVER happens in real life, you know. Almost never … unless you’re Big Green. (Or, frankly, any other band I’ve ever known.)

We got to talking the other day. Our mouth parts moved and sounds emerged from our throats, then floated through the air and vibrated our ear drums. Those little thingies translated the vibrations into electrical signals that were then piped up to our brains. At that point, the impulses – call them voltsters – circulate around in the brain like ants in an ant farm, until they and their confederates make their way down to the mouth and vocal cords, making the whole process begin again. It’s amazing!

Anyway, we were talking about how many versions of Big Green there had been down through the ages. We started chalking up the white board and this is what we came away with.

1979 – 1986: The Proto Period

As I’ve mentioned on the blog before, Big Green started under other names. Matt and I started learning our various instruments in the mid-1970s, and of course it occurred to us that we should play our newfound instruments in the same room at the same time, occasionally playing the same song at a similar tempo. In 1979 we decided to do that thing with some other people with instruments, and the result was a band variously named Slapstick, Mearth, Withers Backtrack, and five other things.

Did we work? Not much! A few bar gigs here and there. We spent a year in the Albany area playing one-night stands, a few outdoor events, nothing special. It was practically all covers back then. Matt was writing stuff and I was writing some as well, but mostly not the kind of material that worked well with a rock group. We have a bunch of scratchy recordings from this period, plus some studio recordings, such as Silent as a Stone, which we featured on our February 2018 episode of THIS IS BIG GREEN. That incarnation trailed off into the eighties.

1986 – 1987: The Ned Year

Yes, this was the first year we called ourselves Big Green. I met Big Green co-founder Ned Danison when we were both playing in a cheesy bar band, and together with Matt we pulled this mess together. Did we practice? One hundred percent. Did we perform? Eh … not so much. I think we played in front of an audience exactly once, at a street fair in Ballston Spa, NY. (I’ve posted photos of that heinous incident in the history of rock.)

Of course, Ned and I played a bunch of other gigs that weren’t with Big Green and had nothing to do with the cheesy bar band. One was Dale Haskell’s Factory Village, videos of which I have posted on our YouTube channel. We also did a couple of songs at the wedding of our friends, Leif and Jill Zurmuhlen (Leif is the amazing photographer who took so many pictures of us before we shriveled into our current superannuated state of disrepair.) And, well, we recorded a demo. That was the year that was.

Is this part three or two?

1988 – 1994: Musical Guitar Players

Our first year we had a problem holding on to drummers. From 1988 on, after Ned went down the road, we had trouble securing a permanent guitar player. Over the next six years, we played with Tony, Steve Bennett, and Jeremy Shaw. We also disguised ourselves as a cover band under the names I-19 and The Space Hippies. (Tony and I were going to do a duo named Seven Vertical Inches of Purgatory or SVIP, but we never got round to it.)

This last period needs a little more exploration, so I’ll save it for another post. Suffice to say, we played a fair number of gigs under the various monikers and did some recording as well.

Then came the reboot. CHIME!