Fire Pig was the brainchild of Mike Yesenosky and Ken Barr, who asked Manny to come along as the vocalist. They had this guy named Doug Murphy who was the drummer, and Dark Mark on bass and Jeff Hudgins on sax. Originally, it was a vehicle for old Sharp Chuckies songs like "I Wanna Work at McDonalds", and "Watching Cows Fuck", and "Uruguay", but then they wrote some new stuff as well. Mike was the first one to leave and was replaced by Greg McMullen. Then the drummer was replaced by Jim Pecora, who was later replaced by Geoff Chase. Manny brought one poem to Fire Pig, "The March of the Fire Pig", the lyrics of which are on his old website, www.geocities.com/tetragramophone. In 1997 Greg left and was replaced by "Special" Ed Barrett. Then Geoff left and was replaced by Hugh (Huge Rockmore), who was then replaced by a guy whose name may or may not have been Alan.
Here's an early video for the classic song, "Parents"!
And here's a clip from a Boston cable local access show called MECCA, produced by Phillip Griffin in early 1994. Lineup for this performance was Ken Barr (gtr), Greg McMullen (gtr), Al Natanagara (vox), "Dark" Mark White (bass), Jim Pecora (drums), Jeff Hudgins (sax)
Wow...this stuff takes me back. I know we (Ajna Chakra) must have played with you one time or another. What is the deal with the 1990's? All these acid-prog funk bands! That's it, my new essay/blog will be this talking point. What a mish-mosh of influences...guilty myself. Primus, Bungle, Crimson...all responsible, the Crims having the most blood on their hands. Everyone just full of beans, drugs, and glad traditional metal had died...(even though seemingly alive and well out in Lowell...to my dismay on some AC gig in 1994, was it "The Underground"?) Wow. This was a time when the word "fuck" used commandingly could still send a shiver down a 40-something's spine. You gotta admit it though...all the bands that spawned this post-Reagan goulash called 1990's funk/punk/prog/whathaveyou all had serious BASS. Rock's cabinet had been somewhat of a triangle of power between frontman, guitarist, and drummer. The bassist, as always, aloof, confident, his face permanently grimaced because the groove is just that stinky. Women, flocking to them, enchanted by their absolute stoicism, and flawless ability to creep into their loins with such long, thick, frequencies. Yes, the modern bass player had arrived, bringing with him the bravado of Jaco, the right hand of Les Claypool, and the abandon of Mike Watt. This would be our era.
WOW!.......The early 90's is about the time I lived in the Bean.....I can't believe I never saw you guys play! I dig the sound! I'll be listening in a lot! Where did you find the music player with 6 tunes? Rock On!
