The Tasty Wangs Interview for [Here] Magazine
...and what they didn't publish - by Boyer
posted 10 Jun, 2010 @ 09:34:30
last modified: 10 Jun, 2010 @ 11:09:21
posted 10 Jun, 2010 @ 09:34:30
last modified: 10 Jun, 2010 @ 11:09:21
A couple weeks ago word got out that The Tasty Wangs were doing their last ever show at the Sunstar. Then, after that show, word got out that they were doing their last ever show at the Sunstar. Again. This got the attention of [Here] magazine's Paige Aarhus, and she asked me to respond to a list of questions she had prepared regarding the band.
Despite her best efforts, her questions and my responses were heavily truncated. Thus, I am posting the full "interview" here for your reading enjoyment. Take it away Paige....
PA: What's the Wangs' origin story? When did you guys get together?
SB: It was a drunken summer evening spent on the patio of Melvins bar. Our (now repatriated) expatriate friend Steven C. Zaionz was itching to play some drunken punk rock. He suggested a group be formed between himself, Mike Thorley (aka Vince the Neon Shark), Gregory R. Carter (aka Lord Wigner), and myself (Beverly Price, aka Sean Boyer). I flatly refused, as I was too busy with other musical and familial obligations. A few months later, Steve got kicked out of the country, and I had a little more time, so I agreed to join the band on drums. We started writing together in late fall of '08.
PA: What was the band like in its early days compared to now?
SB: The early days of the Tasty Wangs were fast and fun. Each practice or song writing session included at minimum a case of Guinness, a quart of Wild Turkey, and several prayers to our respective Tiki Gods. We would bash some songs out, try to out-offend each other, upset the neighbours, and then trot off through the knee deep snow to Churchills Pub for food and more drink. There were a lot of laughs, and a lot of jeers. These days, we just yell offensive gibberish at each other and try to make other people uncomfortable while doing it. We've been very successful in this endeavor.
PA: Why are you splitting up?
SB: Bands are a little different than families. In a family, if your dad dies, or your brother Scott Phillips moves away, you don't break up the family. You carry on. Your mom can create a new brother (or sister - there's really no sure-fire way to control the outcome of that operation) after marrying local barfly Glen Gordon. In a band, it's not that simple. The members of a band comprise the results of a savage chemistry experiment. Like biscuits. Sometimes it doesn't work out. You might substitute an ingredient or two until you get the mixture right. Once you get it right, you've got dough - and you need dough to make biscuits.
PA: What was special about the Wangs?
SB: The beginning days of the Wangs was a very tender time for all of us. Mike had just purchased a new car, and flat out refused to not live in it. He'd shave in there and everything. He'd only eat Vienna Sausages. He was completely traumatized when one day he came home to find his little kitty tangled up in his bedroom blinds. He got rid of the cat and the apartment. Gregory was dealing with the crippling guilt associated with an incident involving organized crime, his dog "Lil' Wipes", a group of unsuspecting lesbian nurses, and a lot of frighteningly cheap mash whiskey. I myself was in a period of transition as I had just undergone a breast reduction surgery that hadn't gone completely right. We all bonded very deeply, and we became a three pronged crutch, like the bluehairs use in the winter. Our music was a reflection of our emotions at the time - or at least the drunken and depraved reflection of our sick egos.
PA: Any plans for a reincarnation of the band/replacing Gregory?
SB: In an attempt to not end up like I Mother Earth or Blind Mellon, we've decided to put the Wangs to bed (unless Gregory comes home) and start a new project. This time around the block, it's "The Welfare Boyz". We're inviting our good friend Robert [last name omitted for legal reasons] to join us on vocals. This band is all about allowing us to express ourselves through the wearing of joggers and tare-away pants, NASCAR, Budwiser and slogan t-shirts, $9 Velcro-up running shoes and drunk and disorderly stage antics. Imagine a Hockey Punk band from Vancouver 15 years ago, when that kind of scene was still cool, but without the hockey or any real central kick. Songs about lots of beer, bacon sandwiches, losing the rent money in the VLT's, harassing pedestrians, getting beaten up by cops, drug dealers and friends alike - you know - the usual South End SJ story.
PA: What's the craziest thing that ever happened at a show?
SB: When your band is named "The Tasty Wangs" you can imagine what kind of a crowd might happen out to our shows. We've had shows where they've had to mop people up off the floor with all the broken glass and vomit. People have been thrown out for attempting to pour their own draught while screaming bastardized versions of our lyrics. There have been rumors that Tipper Gore was going to try to shut down one of our shows at the Sunstar Lounge, but apparently her bosom buddy Jeff Ling needed some help protesting a Nickleback concert in Fort Lauderdale on grounds of sexual obscenity, and she couldn't pass it up. But that's the usual. I think the craziest thing that has ever happened at a show was that we played all the songs right.
PA: Are you working on any other side projects? I know you're in a billion other bands…
SB: I'm currently playing with several groups at the moment, including Hospital Grade, Reagans Rayguns, Halo, The Stabby Dancers, and most recently, Curbside Prawjek and Clinton Charlton and the Formers. As mentioned elsewhere in this interview, The Welfare Boyz are going to be hitting the local bar [please don't pluralize bar!] within the next few months and will feature Thorley and myself. It will be a treat for everyone, except most people.
PA: Why should people come to this [last ever] show on the 11th?
SB: Well, I think this mainly depends on what kind of a person you are. If you're the kind of person who keeps to themselves, is easily offended, doesn't like fast and loose punk rock, doesn't want to say they were there for one serious piece of Saint John history, and generally favours a night of weeping into a drool stained pillow rather than clanking a beer glass against your buddies, then shucks, you might have just found a way to integrate into society. Everyone else will already be there.
Despite her best efforts, her questions and my responses were heavily truncated. Thus, I am posting the full "interview" here for your reading enjoyment. Take it away Paige....
PA: What's the Wangs' origin story? When did you guys get together?
SB: It was a drunken summer evening spent on the patio of Melvins bar. Our (now repatriated) expatriate friend Steven C. Zaionz was itching to play some drunken punk rock. He suggested a group be formed between himself, Mike Thorley (aka Vince the Neon Shark), Gregory R. Carter (aka Lord Wigner), and myself (Beverly Price, aka Sean Boyer). I flatly refused, as I was too busy with other musical and familial obligations. A few months later, Steve got kicked out of the country, and I had a little more time, so I agreed to join the band on drums. We started writing together in late fall of '08.
PA: What was the band like in its early days compared to now?
SB: The early days of the Tasty Wangs were fast and fun. Each practice or song writing session included at minimum a case of Guinness, a quart of Wild Turkey, and several prayers to our respective Tiki Gods. We would bash some songs out, try to out-offend each other, upset the neighbours, and then trot off through the knee deep snow to Churchills Pub for food and more drink. There were a lot of laughs, and a lot of jeers. These days, we just yell offensive gibberish at each other and try to make other people uncomfortable while doing it. We've been very successful in this endeavor.
PA: Why are you splitting up?
SB: Bands are a little different than families. In a family, if your dad dies, or your brother Scott Phillips moves away, you don't break up the family. You carry on. Your mom can create a new brother (or sister - there's really no sure-fire way to control the outcome of that operation) after marrying local barfly Glen Gordon. In a band, it's not that simple. The members of a band comprise the results of a savage chemistry experiment. Like biscuits. Sometimes it doesn't work out. You might substitute an ingredient or two until you get the mixture right. Once you get it right, you've got dough - and you need dough to make biscuits.
PA: What was special about the Wangs?
SB: The beginning days of the Wangs was a very tender time for all of us. Mike had just purchased a new car, and flat out refused to not live in it. He'd shave in there and everything. He'd only eat Vienna Sausages. He was completely traumatized when one day he came home to find his little kitty tangled up in his bedroom blinds. He got rid of the cat and the apartment. Gregory was dealing with the crippling guilt associated with an incident involving organized crime, his dog "Lil' Wipes", a group of unsuspecting lesbian nurses, and a lot of frighteningly cheap mash whiskey. I myself was in a period of transition as I had just undergone a breast reduction surgery that hadn't gone completely right. We all bonded very deeply, and we became a three pronged crutch, like the bluehairs use in the winter. Our music was a reflection of our emotions at the time - or at least the drunken and depraved reflection of our sick egos.
PA: Any plans for a reincarnation of the band/replacing Gregory?
SB: In an attempt to not end up like I Mother Earth or Blind Mellon, we've decided to put the Wangs to bed (unless Gregory comes home) and start a new project. This time around the block, it's "The Welfare Boyz". We're inviting our good friend Robert [last name omitted for legal reasons] to join us on vocals. This band is all about allowing us to express ourselves through the wearing of joggers and tare-away pants, NASCAR, Budwiser and slogan t-shirts, $9 Velcro-up running shoes and drunk and disorderly stage antics. Imagine a Hockey Punk band from Vancouver 15 years ago, when that kind of scene was still cool, but without the hockey or any real central kick. Songs about lots of beer, bacon sandwiches, losing the rent money in the VLT's, harassing pedestrians, getting beaten up by cops, drug dealers and friends alike - you know - the usual South End SJ story.
PA: What's the craziest thing that ever happened at a show?
SB: When your band is named "The Tasty Wangs" you can imagine what kind of a crowd might happen out to our shows. We've had shows where they've had to mop people up off the floor with all the broken glass and vomit. People have been thrown out for attempting to pour their own draught while screaming bastardized versions of our lyrics. There have been rumors that Tipper Gore was going to try to shut down one of our shows at the Sunstar Lounge, but apparently her bosom buddy Jeff Ling needed some help protesting a Nickleback concert in Fort Lauderdale on grounds of sexual obscenity, and she couldn't pass it up. But that's the usual. I think the craziest thing that has ever happened at a show was that we played all the songs right.
PA: Are you working on any other side projects? I know you're in a billion other bands…
SB: I'm currently playing with several groups at the moment, including Hospital Grade, Reagans Rayguns, Halo, The Stabby Dancers, and most recently, Curbside Prawjek and Clinton Charlton and the Formers. As mentioned elsewhere in this interview, The Welfare Boyz are going to be hitting the local bar [please don't pluralize bar!] within the next few months and will feature Thorley and myself. It will be a treat for everyone, except most people.
PA: Why should people come to this [last ever] show on the 11th?
SB: Well, I think this mainly depends on what kind of a person you are. If you're the kind of person who keeps to themselves, is easily offended, doesn't like fast and loose punk rock, doesn't want to say they were there for one serious piece of Saint John history, and generally favours a night of weeping into a drool stained pillow rather than clanking a beer glass against your buddies, then shucks, you might have just found a way to integrate into society. Everyone else will already be there.
