Some of you might remember a little old metal band from Austin, Texas that came out with some music and full-page ads in Metal Edge magazine back in the mid-80s. They were called Stryken. Their bass player was named Ezekiel Vade. He went by the initials EZ. This wasn’t the best band he was in, but I’ll get to that a little bit later.
This band was funny, but they were savvy. The funny part was the fact that they made up fake names for managers, so if you called the office and asked for Ettleberry Somethingoranother you would get “that person” on the line, but it would just be a band member using a different tone of voice. The thinking behind this was not all evil and insane, though I’m sure they would not bring it up out of the blue in an interview. I believe the thought behind it was, “If you want to be taken seriously, you need to have representation.” They certainly represented themselves well, with full-page ads in Metal Edge. The caption/headline of a couple of those ads read, “God damned Satan, and is about to change your life!”
They raised a few eyebrows with that play on words, but they also got a lot of attention. This was a time when metal magazines were prominent in promoting and circulating information on heavy metal bands. They did a nice and brisk little mail-order business. They had mystique. They had image. They had recorded product to sell. They had t-shirts. They had ideas. Their music was pretty good. It mixed the big rock anthems of Kiss with the sometimes bombastic (and large) BGVs of Queen. “Crush the Head of Satan” and “Rock On” were two of their better songs.
The bass player was called Ezekiel Vade. His real name was Jeremy Nunes. His nickname was “Uncle Sammy.” I was the best man at his wedding. We worked at Pizza Hut together. We share a love for Monty Python and lots and lots of (constant) humor. I love that guy. While Stryken was pretty good, Uncle Sammy was in a better band. It wasn’t just a pretty good band for a genre that was popular, it was creative, fresh and covered a broad spectrum of musical influences.
There was another band in Austin, TX, at the time that played punk rock. They started in the midst of a flourishing and buzzing local punk scene. They were called One Bad Pig and, before they were introduced to youth groups via Myrrh Records (the same label as Amy Grant, Eric Champion and Phil Keaggy), they were rocking punk dives where beer and profanity flew across the room at regular intervals. They were welcomed with their bold preaching that cut across philosophical lines because they were passionate. A member of Kriminal Krew was once quoted as saying, “We like having One Bad Pig on the bill with us. It’s like (having the good and the bad or two sides of the coin … having an alternative viewpoint expressed)…” I’m kinda fuzzy on the accuracy of that quote, because – mind you – this was 25 years ago, but that was the sentiment. They were welcome into the punk community, because they weren’t pretentious. They were bold, brash and loud.
But even the guitarist of One Bad Pig was in another band that was better.
I’m talking about the Paul Q-Pek Band. They were equal parts Tears for Fears and INXS. Their music bounced around, ricocheted off walls and bled into your rib cage with emotion. It was pop, but it was arresting melodies and passionate lyrics. There was even a song that had the swagger of Whitesnake. It was a power ballad anthem thing called “No More Crying” and it talked boldly and matter-of-factly about a time and a place (in Heaven) where there’d be “no more crying / no more pain … no more empty hearts / crying out in vain.”
There was a song that was reminiscent of Jerusalem and the prophetic edge that Ulf Christiansson would put into his performances (tunes like “Sodom” and “Man of this World” from the Warrior album). It was called “Martyr.” It started out with a typical rock and roll battle cry:
“Are you ready?”
Then it would repeat: “Are you red-eeyyyy?”
ARRRRRRRRRRREEEEEEE UUUUUUUUU RED-DAY???!?!?”
The reverb was rich and dripping with echo. The keyboards of Michael Willaby would be laying a bed of rising anticipation. “Are you ready?” would repeat several times in an effort to command all the attention within earshot and then the response would come: “Then you will die.”
“If you stand up
If you stand up
you will die…”
It was a song about martyrdom. It had the passion of “In the Name of Love” and the kind of heartfelt loyalty and respect for the saints of old like the kind of props U2 paid to MLK. By the end of the tune, Q-Pek would be on a roll, rattling off how standing up for the King of Kings would lead to your death. It was insane. It left many in tears. It was awesome.
There was the tune “Kingdom Come – The Q-Pek Band,” which bounced around like early Choir tunes (remember their incarnation as Youth Choir?). I put this song on a compilation cassette tape called Cool Tunes. This song was on a six-song demo cassette (Truth Be Told, which also had the title track, a short, filler ditty called “Mrs. Lowry,” a spoken word thing called “Boxes,” a cover of a tune written by HM’s printer guy, Russell Smith, “Tear Down the Walls” and “The Healing”). The band had taken six months or so off from doing any live shows to write and perfect the songs for this tape. The centerpiece was a mesmerizing, keyboard-intro heavy tune called “The Healing.” It was also the centerpiece of the concerts that followed its release.
Paul would tell the audience, “…the Bible says that, if you come to sacrifice to God, but have something against your brother, leave your sacrifice and go reconcile with your brother. We want you to do that right now. Search your heart and, if you have something against a brother, go to that person now and make peace…” Something like that went down at their shows, too. The band would stand at the front of the stage at the end of the show for a prayer time, where each member would pray with lots of people who came forward.
I remember my greatest moment of helping out the Q-Pek Band… It was my greatest achievement in promoting the band (maybe not, but it sure felt great!). It was a the Cornerstone Festival in 1987. The mainstage was the main thing and all the best bands played there and no other stages rang out while this one rocked. It was a gathering time and place for everyone at the fest. It was a massive stage outside and the sound booth was a ways off in the back of the crowd in the center. They always played music between bands and the guys running sound were nice enough to say, “Sure,” when I asked them if they’d play this tape. They played all of Truth Be Told between a couple bands that day. It was a priceless moment when I saw Earl Proeger wandering around the area with a look on his face that said, “Wha? Huh? How?!?!?” That was awesome. I think it went over well with the crowd. I should’ve found an A&R guy at a label at that exact moment and said, “Hey! What do you think of this music playing now? Wanna know who it is?”
(he he he…)
This band had about all the ingredients you could ask for. They played live a lot. They had focus. They kept writing songs. They were unified in their visual onstage performance. They moved people. I just wish their Truth Be Told cassette demo had somehow captured their essence. I wish Mike MacLane of Frontline/Intense Records had not turned the band down. “We all like One Bad Pig,” he said, “but…”
I think Paul’s heart was set on being signed by the hottest record label in Christian music of the day. That was Frontline Records. Many frustrated artists and some sort of bankruptcy or dissolution later and the label that was head and shoulders of all the rest is gone. I think Paul kind of gave up when that demo tape effort fell short. Yeah, they recorded another three-song demo called “Wrestle For You” (which had “Hard Workin’ Man” and “What Color is Your Hair Tonight” on it), but it didn’t get the attention of Billy Smiley of White Heart, either. “I love One Bad Pig,” he said and the rest is history. While the Pig took off, one of Austin’s best bands fell to the wayside.
Oh, what might have been.
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After even One Bad Pig had run its course as a working band (they are still all living and do play the occasional show) in the early ’90s, Paul Q-Pek moved to Nashville and pursued a solo career. He scored a deal with Absolute Records and ventured into a Peter Gabriel-esque vibe that really worked well with his voice. Here’s a video of one of the better songs on that solo album (Touch the Ground). The song is called “Bring Jesus to Me.”
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