Cletro - Easystreet Cafe, 11/25/97

November 25, 1997. Bowling Green's music scene has long been a bastion of mainstream rock music, but over the years it's also spawned plenty of interesting sounds from out on the margins. By the late-'90s, a new generation of BG musicians was incorporating electronic music with traditional rock instrumentation to create new hybrid forms of electronic rock and synth-punk. Whatever you want to call the type of music that emerged from these experiments, Cletro (Joel Roberts, keyboards/theremin/guitar/vox; Matt "Letterman" Gannon, guitar; Jason Clever, drums/percussion) played it very well and did so with an energy and style that anticipated the keyboard-driven sound of Stylex half a decade later.

Cletro mixed together lo-fi, sci-fi and punkrock and named the frantic results "electro-prog trashmen rawk." Letterman picks it up in an email accompanying this flyer:

We formed after a hot Indian summer afternoon jam in September of '97 out of mutual appreciation for low-fi recording weirdness. Clever played a really crappy drum kit crudely equipped with a clangy-ass metal cylinder, I was on an over-driven early 90's heavy-metal hot-rod guitar with EMG pickups, and Joel was our ring-leader with his circus of Casio keyboards, theremin, and a "Flangemogrifier" (an electric guitar with a flange hot-wired to it). 

This was probably one of our first shows and the flyer has a bunch of stuff going on. Joel and I collaborated on this. We used a Star Trek coloring book and at the top, from left to right, we have Joel as Kirk, me as Spock (with a penned in goatee which I was sporting in true bad '90s fashion), and Jason as Bones with signature thick-rimmed glasses. Below that is a Korg MS-20. I believe Clever had recently purchased one for some obscenely cheap price up in Toledo and it really symbolized the old-school hand rendered synth rock we played.

I don't know if we were actually booked at Easy Street or if this was just an open mic night that we intruded on. I believe it was probably the latter . . . Easy Street wouldn't probably have us otherwise. At that time, they typically seemed to book blues and jam-band kind of stuff. "We Do Chin-ups" was some shit we yelled in one of our songs.

The T-Shirts, The Cyril Lords, The Crown Jewels - Howard's Club H, 2/28/04

February 28, 2004. On the same day that over a million people in Taiwan formed a several-hundred mile long human chain to commemorate a 1947 anti-government uprising, BG supergroup The T-Shirts imploded on stage in front of a packed crowd at Howard's Club H. Although they weren't due to play their last show for another month, the band (Matt Truman, guitar/vox; Walter "Black Mac" McKeever, guitar/vox; Miguel Oria, bass/vox; Henry "Feezil" Hirzel, drums) called their two-year local music career quits early in a now legendary on-stage spat.

The T-Shirts at Nate & Wally's Fishbowl, BG

At their best, The T-Shirts played an infectious blend of straight-ahead rock. But as one of the ever-informative informants at Toledowiki astutely observes: "Three frontmen and a drummer. A recipe for total disaster."

Thanks to Miguel for this and all the other flyers he's passed along.

The Cyril Lords were a Detroit garage rock band in the Hentchmen and Gories mold, and although their Motor City origins means they fall outside the brief of this humble blog, I mention them simply because it gives me a chance to show the following video:



Opening this show (and for their debut as a live act too) was psychedelic band The Crown Jewels, and here's one song from that set on what turned out to be a very long night.

Groovy Records, BG - 1986-87?

Before Madhatter Music Co., sometime in 1986 or 1987,  there was . . . Groovy Records! Groovy Records was an independently owned and operated store selling vinyl, cassettes and CDs (both new and used and featuring the "areas best selection of heavy metal, hardcore, new wave, psychedelic"), as well as the usual scene paraphernalia such as posters, incense, buttons etc. They were located just north of Dairy Mart (now a Circle K Domino's Pizza), in the alleyway at the west side of the convenience store that runs towards Court Street (see map above), just a mile from the "sleazy area . . . marked by tenements and vagrants" (aka BGSU, heh).

Not groovy: The former site of Groovy Records today

The store is billed here as "BG's Best Kept Secret" and certainly there are probably few people around today who even remember Groovy Records, let alone who can claim to have set foot in the place. All three flyers in our archive reflect the eclectic DIY vibe of the store, as well as the proprietor's close relationship with the XHOA-wing of the underground scene of the time.

To paraphrase Mr. T, "I pity the fools who didn't shop at Groovy Records!"

Vambo Marble Eye, The Generals - Good Tymes Pub, 2/15/91

February 15, 1991. In 1990, when punk band Art School disbanded, bassist Perry Finch and guitarist Mike Wing formed Vambo Marble Eye with drummer Larry Zengel, taking their name from a song by the The Sensational Alex Harvey Band.

Vambo soon moved to Chicago (Zengel being replaced by Kevin Smith), releasing several 7" and a couple of albums during the remainder of the decade. Finch eventually went on to found Off White Records.

The Plastic Factory - Uptown, 1/20/99

January 20, 1999. This is a nice hand-drawn flyer that takes full advantage of Kinko's palette of photocopier inks. The Plastic Factory (William "BJ" Price, guitar, vox; Chris Carsten, guitar; Dan Stutzman, bass; Phil Dicktone, drums; Josh Eppert, vox) were named after a song by Captain Beefheart and His Magic Band (which they covered) and played their own unique version of psychedelic Beefheartian rock ("The Liver Spotted Standard," "Drongo The Ugly Angel") and garage standards ("Maid of Sugar, Maid of Spice," "Mr. Pharmacist"). They contributed a song to Shawn Wilbur's turn-of-the-millenium Mutual Aid CD series.

A rare photo of The Plastic Factory playing at Howard's.

Uptown's brief late-90s flirtation with live bands didn't last longer than a year or two, and by the end of 1999, The Plastic Factory themselves had melted down, birthing garage rockers The Unexpected and The Orgones.

Mote, Spaceship 9, Assignment Moongirl - Howard's Club H, 7/2/96 [UPDATED]

July 2, 1996. This flyer sports the understated and well designed indie aesthetic that also graces Mote's late-1996 45 "Camelia's and Azaleas"/"Capgun" bw "Melvina"/"Red Handled Pliers" (yes, 4 songs on one single). Mote (Matt Gengler, vox, guitar; Colin Herb, bass; Zach Hill, guitar; Josh Spitler, drums) were one of the heavy-hitters of the BG scene in the eighteen months before Matt Gengler teamed up with Tony Cavallario in Aloha. Assignment Moongirl, a mysterious noise/sound manipulation two piece who still pop up from time-to-time, opened the show.

Spaceship 9 were Matt "Letterman" Gannon, guitar; Geoff "Geo" Grant, guitar; Hal Hixson, vox; Anthony Buehrer, drums; Mike Pennington, bass. Here are Geo's memories of this show.

This was the first real Spaceship 9 performance. We insisted that Mote headline as they were the veteran band that night. There was a beautiful argument because Matt Gengler wanted us to headline as it was our moment. It was so incredibly nice of him, but of course I've never lost an argument and Mote headlined. They were such an under-rated band. And I remember Assignment Moongirl was so trippy. I spent the majority of their set in a catatonic state lying on a pool table in the back of Howard's.

When it was time to do soundcheck for us I politely declined and left [soundman] Maurice to deal with it as he saw fit. Maurice cranked everything to 11 and that's how we rolled. I remember the sweet feeling of relief as we started our set. It was a huge moment for us - our coming out party. I'm sure a lot of people were on drugs based on the dancing styles I saw as we threw mediocre garage-rock psychedelia in their faces. Both Matt and I admitted later to picking out a couple of kids that were totally into it and playing our guitars to their movements. That was the first time I saw the power and magic of creating something on the spot - that strange communication with an audience. It was a secret discussion between a handful of people - 90% of the crowd didn't get it but that didn't matter to me. It was a feeling of accomplishment even though at a minor level.

An after-hours party at the punk-house followed. Icing on the cake.

Geo informs me that I once described Spaceship 9 as a "Hawkwind rip-off." Not surprisingly, I have no memory of this but, Geo, it was intended as a compliment! I have fond memories of Spaceship 9 shows at various house parties around this time.

May Day! A Festival of Musical and Vocal Protest - n.p., 1992.

Dateline 1992 (again). All I can say about this one is that it's advertising a May Day protest that seems to flip the bird at the generally miserable state of the world and advocates--in the time-honored tradition of failed revolutionaries everywhere--angry alcohol consumption as just compensation for political impotence.

Fair enough!

I've no idea who played or where this event happened, but looking at the style of the flyer, I'd say it dates from the late-'80s or early-90s 1992 (thanks Cubbie Fan). Speaking of political impotence, is that George Voinovich?