I've always wondered if there is a science to band names, if they at all reflect the quality of the music. If a band opts for the name like Green Vomit, for instance, it's unlikely I will take them seriously. When a band forms, one of the first things they'll need to do is think of a clever moniker. They'll think: What should people be chanting as we run off the stage and wait for our encore? What name captures the essence of my art? What name is going to get me laid?
Many people in the industry thought that Finger 11 had some sexual ploy in mind when they changed their name from the hastily chosen high school band name Rainbow Butt Monkeys. Many saw it as a clever phallicism hinting at the additional members of the band - the ones hidden by the boys' pant zippers.
For almost a decade, front-man Scott Anderson has painstakingly
been explaining, through interview after interview, country
after country, and tour after tour, that they changed their
name because they outgrew it.
Their newest name has little to do with the misconstrued reference to the band's privates or sexual disposition. Instead, it has everything to do with a sense of spiritual direction and the ability to follow one's own insight in a way that others rarely understand.
How gloriously ironic the name has been for them, in light of the reputation that the name has provoked by fans and media, and how that reputation contradicts the actual meaning.
"It's a neat little rock and roll name. It's wonderfully and perfectly misunderstood," said Anderson.
At the time, in the mid-nineties, the powers of influence (their Canadian label) attempted to steer the band's direction, making it clear it would be committing career suicide if they changed their name.
With that in mind, RBM gave their label a finger indeed, dropping the title anyway.
That being said, the label dropped them as if they were as good as dead. "We were shaken a little bit when the label dropped us, but we were so proud that we thought everything would be ok," Anderson insists.
A decade later, after finally working through years of liability with their new label, not to mention reaching rock stardom and enjoying it for the past two years, Finger 11 is now living the dream.
"I'm a bit touchy about it because it is history. It's not part of our future," he said.
Anderson knows that Finger 11 will never stop having to explain their name to people. Many are still discovering the Rainbow Butt Monkeys. When the band travels to those points of the world (let's say in the Southern States where the communities are just getting the Internet) Anderson has to inevitably answer that question again: "Whoa, you guys used to be called Rainbow Butt Monkeys in Canada, why the name change?"
Finger 11's experience is similar to what many artists go through as they progress through their career. Whether a band changes their style or direction or musical arrangements on an album, they are constantly challenged to explain these details to fans and management. While people are entitled to know these details, Anderson thinks it takes away from the present.
"People are weary of creative change," he said.
One would think that growth and ripened musical sensibilities should be as natural as someone outgrowing a pair of jeans or switching from tall cans to a glass of French Pinot Noir.
Sometimes, as much as name changes can be part of the process of maturation, this reason may not necessarily be the only cause for the refashioned title. Sometimes record labels are picky, and if you're a sell out you'll switch.
Sometimes, like in the case of Dan Snaith of Caribou who previously performed under the name of Manitoba, you might be threatened by someone named Handsome Dick Manitoba with a trademark lawsuit.
Toronto's Shaky Jane is quite familiar with this variety of threat and worry.
After starting off their career as The Big Three, a name they "universally agreed was a completely unremarkable band name," they changed their title to Oh! The Pretty Things. This led to more problems, as they were accused by the 60's British band
The Pretty Things of tricking people into coming to their shows, claiming that OTPH was trying to steal their fans.
Admittedly, the band originally agreed on the name without having researched whether or not it was available. When The Pretty Things found out about them, shit did, in fact, hit the fan and there were some heated comments made on lead singer Jeff Pinto's part to TPT across the pond:
Dear The Pretty Things, "So you think that concert goers might think that The Pretty Things moved to Toronto, altered their name slightly, and began playing 100 person capacity clubs? What would explain the 30-year gap in ages? That's some shoddy reasoning - with astute management like that, it's no wonder this invasion band got slaughtered on the beaches. From Jeff Pinto.
P.S. We're recording our debut album this weekend and releasing it and touring it
under a different band name. So fucking tongue it."
At that point, just hours before their first tour, the band agreed to change their name to Shaky Jane. And the journey begins for them.
If still together in ten years, no doubt Shaky Jane will encounter the pains of explaining their name change. As Scott Anderson warns, they had better prepare themselves. Spin it into some compelling story, he advocates.
Spin a creative yarn, because these daring and innovative bands that are unafraid of change will be weaving through this topic for years to come. Bands with balls are going to need justification for being different; they may as well make it interesting. This is sound advice for weary bands who may want or are forced to take the leap.
Shaky Jane is far from nervous about the change, though. With a new release in October they are on their way to make a name for themselves in the Toronto indie music scene.
Everyone else can follow their lead.
- by Sandra
Ferrari -
