| from the Chapel Hill News: "What's in a name?" by Frank Heath The other day I noticed one of those "top 10" lists in a magazine for Great Unclaimed Band Names. None of the names caught my eye, though, and I wondered what exactly it is about a band name (or any name, for that matter) that makes it good or bad? On the 40th anniversary of the death of the spectacularly named Malcolm X, it seems like an appropriate subject to ponder. What strunk me when I laid down that list was that really good names tend to fit tightly with the things they identify. So, Radiohead, for instance, or Led Zeppelin, turn out to be good band names once we have heard the music and seen the musicians that accompany them, whereas, standing alone, those names are maybe...not so amazing. (i.e., a mediocre polka group that called itself Radiohead would probably not be doing itself that many favors). There are tons of band names and a lot of good ones. A pattern I've recognized after skimming 19 years' worth of band promotional packages is that there can be a correlation between the imagination and talent level of the band and the impact of the name. The less-interesting band names, to me at least, are those that don't really seem to stand for much of anything, like REO Speedwagon or Third Eye Blind. The naming of a band, like any naming, in a sense gives the namer an existential opportunity to invent or re-invent one's identity. Squandering that opportunity could be a fatal mistake. Through the years, social movements have always generated good band names. So, in the 1960s there were psychedelic bands like the Byrds and Cream and Jefferson Airplane (and, of course, the Electric Prunes); and the punk movement of the 1970s generated more good-fit names, like The Clash, Sex Pistols, Ramones and X. Another favorite among some connoisseurs of band names are those that fall into the "world's longest name" catagory. This sort can be a hindrance because in the end, who wants to repeat all of those words? But there have been some good ones. A current band from Cananda named godspeedyoublackemperor jumps to mind, and another fave is And You Will Know Us By the Trail of Dead. Band names that derive from a group's immediate commercial or pop-culture can be compelling. The 1970s pop act Big Star and today's Wilco are among the more successful of these. But it's a delicate art that can sort of backfire. Dandy Worhols comes to mind as a not-so-successful name of this sort. Some groups (or perhaps, the bands' lawyers) are very specific about the use of "A" or "the" along with their names. For example the Melvins, for a long time, requested in their contracts that they be billed as simply "Melvins." Today, they don't seem to care anymore, and as far as I can tell, no one with the band even seems to remember exactly why or when this relaxation of the rules occurred. Another intriguing sub-set of band names arises out of legal necessity. A young act becomes well known enough that another more-extablished act that already happens to have the same name hears of the newer band. Then the older band (or its lawyer) tells the newer band, "We already have that name, go get your own." When this happens, a sly group may go the route of adding a short word or appendage to its already chosen name, making the name just distinguishable enough to ward off any would-be lawsuit. Thus, Dinosaur becomes Dinosaur Jr., Mayflies was lengthened to Mayflies USA, and Starpoint became Starpoint Electric. Perhaps the most famous and successful band name shift of this sort was made by a Chapel Hill band. More than a decade ago, a local combo named itself Chunk after a few rockin' practices. After they had played a few shows, though, the band learned that a New York jazz group also named Chunk wanted them to cease and desist, at least under that particular moniker. Undaunted, the band re-christened itself Superchunk, and a legend found its true beginning. Some old-timers still refer to Superchunk as "the Chunksters." Like Superchunk, a lot of good band names have come out of this area. The Chicken Wire Gang, which is short for The Good Old Chicken Wire Gang Boys Band Bros, is one band whose name fits its old-time sound perfectly. Southern Culture on the Skids came into being when founding member Rick Miller decided he had heard enough about the "Southern culture" hoopla surrounding the Athens, Ga., band REM. Miller said in a mid-1980s interview that his band was going to be about the REAL Southern culture -- trailer parks and all that jazz. (REM remains one of MY favorite band names.) Durham's Bad Checks also arose during the mid 1980s as one of this area's best punk groups. As bassist Clif Mann remembers, many of his favorite bands at the time -- Bad Religion, Bad Brains -- had "bad" in their names. After compiling a list (which Mann still has) of 10 possible names, Bad Checks was chosen. The name of the Chapel Hill band Snatches of Pink came about when one of the members noticed that a hugely popular group that he was not so fond of had pink highlighted on its album cover. When he decided that perhaps there was some correlation between those "snatches of pink" in the artwork and the band's fame, a name was born. (This band has changed on several occasions during 20 years of existence; but guess what, they are currently named ... Snatches of Pink.) Athens, Ga., during its heyday generated a lot of good band names -- REM, Time Toy, Pylon, Kilkenny Cats. At one point there were so many rock groups springing up in Athens that I heard there was a guy there who sat in a room just thinking up band names all afternoon. So what is my favorite, favorite band name? Well, uh, I guess i'd have to go with The Beatles. Frank Heath is a native Chapel Hillian and a local businessman. Messages for him can be sent to frank@catscradle.com |