#68: Anxious music written during a particularly anxious period of time
.GIF From God; YHWH Nailgun; Cancer Christ; checking in with Big Scary Indian
What with Ash Wednesday next week, now feels like a good time to dive into the divine, a perennial inspiration for band names (and other stuff, I guess).
.GIF From God
We have a lot of fun here at Band Name Bureau, but the time has come to be serious for a moment: This is a terrible name.
The question before us now is, how do we proceed from here? Not since Healing Potpourri have we faced such a crisis.
No! We must press ahead, if only so future generations can learn from our mistakes.
Presumably the origin of .GIF From God lies in the phrase “gift from God,” but, like, updated for the times. However, 1) our Heavenly Father’s love is an eternal gift and cannot be “updated” to suit your heretical quips, you blasphemers, and 2) .GIFs are cringe, apparently. This is all speculation, as there aren’t a ton of interviews with them.
The Richmond grind outfit follows in the proud tradition of Non-Sequiturs and Inside Jokes as song titles, such as “No Dude…He STILL Likes to Spray,” “Cincinnatically Speaking…,” Sassafras Manassas Ass,” and “When You Yell at Me, Make Sure It Hurts My Feelings,” all from 2019’s approximation_of_a_human. Because they know I appreciate a Simpsons reference, there’s a song on the upcoming Digital Red called “Knife Goes in, Guts Come Out.”
Of the new EP, the sextet says, “Digital Red is anxious music written during a particularly anxious period of time.” Just feel the anxiety pulsate through “Youth Medium: Child Psychic”!
YHWH Nailgun
The internet offers a tsunami of information about .GIF from God compared to YHWH Nailgun, whose top search results included a TikTok search for “mens back muscles” (??) and some site that looked like straight-up malware. Luckily, one YouTube link went to a band interview that opened with vocalist Zach Borzone providing what may be the least interesting answer in music history to the question “Where does your band name come from?”
“Ummmm… I think it comes from… I think it’s like, um, just like a combo…like a combo…of wor—like you know, you know, a combo of words?”
It takes an interminable 30 seconds for Borzone to get that out, before he laughs and says, “I have to do a better job at this.” It is something to behold.
To be fair, his bandmates aren’t better. Synth player Jack Tobias looks like he’s speaking for the first time in his life as he painfully describes his role in the band. “I play the synth.” Pause. “I, uh, run a label?” Pause. “Called Domani Sounds.” Pause. “YHWH is my main band.” Pause. “As well I play in, like, a few other side things.” Pause. “Like a band called Threesome.” Pause. “Um……..yeah.”
Plasticstyledotnet, who posted the video, is actively defying viewers to continue past the first minute. It barely improves with the remaining two members of YHWH Nailgun, who are only slightly less laconic. It amounts to what may be the most boring band interview in history. At least Jack accidentally livens things up at one point by absentmindedly scratching his balls.
Cancer Christ
This hasn’t been done yet? Really? Even if someone else has used this name, surely no one has done it as high concept as this LA-based “Reptilian-Christian-Christ-Violence hardcore” band. Their page on Sweatband Records goes into a whole thing about Jesus dying, the devil using “Dark Trinities” to punish the planet, and Cancer Christ being an “imperfect vessel to wage a holy war against those who wish to profit from a dying prophet’s words.”
Frontman Anthony Mehlhaff, a.k.a. St. Anthony, has the shtick down. His lengthy interview with No Echo plays like Bob Odenkirk’s Mr. Show character Reverend Winton Dupree via GWAR. Like:
For the millions of demon worshippers that think Satan is tough or sick or down. I stand to let all those bitches know that God bitch slapped Lucifer out of heaven and only then did that punk-bitch become Satan. God fucks the hardest and he’s ready to fuck the world, whether you believe or not.
Dan Chamberlain of something called churchleaders.com saw that No Echo interview and quoted it extensively in a story with the headline “LA Band Called ‘Cancer Christ’ Baptizes Fans in Fake Blood, Destroys Bibles During Concerts.”
Presumably Mehlhaff and his bandmates live for this kind of thing, but Chamberlain mostly summarizes the No Echo interview without any Helen Lovejoy-style “Won’t someone think of the children?!” hysterics. Spoilsport.
While Chamberlain notes that it’s “unclear which parts of the interview are meant to be taken seriously,” he does wonder about the point of it all.
While it is clear that Cancer Christ’s use of Christian symbolism is intended to be satirical, what is unclear is the statement they are attempting to make, if any, through their use of Christian language paired with violence and vulgarity, which is exemplified by songs such as “Baptized in P–s and S–t” and “Do You Wanna Go To Heaven,” the latter of which encourages suicide.
I mean, fair. I’m not sure there’s much beyond the usual critiques of the bigotry, greed, and hypocrisy espoused by Christian fundamentalists. (Oh, the prosperity gospel is bullshit? You don’t say!) What would be ballsy is if Mehlhaff’s zealotry were real, like he really is super into Jesus, and Cancer Christ is actually on a (profane) mission from God. Who knows? Maybe he is.
What [churches] forget is the love and that Jesus died for your sins. That shits [sic] paid for in full with blood. So, go out and fucking sin or what did the dude fucking get tortured for? I’m talking with God about this shit all the time and honestly, he’s always changing his mind.
Checking in with Big Scary Indian
Back in December, we met Big Scary Indian, the stage name of Roshan Reddy, a “half-Indian, part Native American” musician from Brooklyn. Some digging turned up an interview with him over at The Family Reviews, where he mentioned how the name comes from—wait for it—an inside joke with an old friend. “There’s more to it, but that’s all I’ll say for now,” Reddy said.
Because Band Name Bureau is nothing if not a paragon of investigative journalism, I quickly messaged Reddy to ask what more there is to the name. He kindly indulged me. (This has been edited for length and clarity, blah blah blah.)
Band Name Bureau: So tell me about Big Scary Indian.
Big Scary Indian: It really just started as a social media handle. It was something that a friend used to say about me to other friends who hadn’t met me yet. It was just his way of hyping me up, because we would talk a lot about indigenous culture and pre-hispanic-invasion culture and spirituality and philosophy in that way. We would talk for hours on the phone. He would be raging in traffic in Philadelphia, and I’d be at my university in Delaware dicking around. [Laughs.]
It just stuck with me, and I chose it as a social media handle because all my friends know I’m half-Indian, and I’m also native on my mother’s side—she’s part Lenape as far as we know. You skirt the edges of that type of humor. It’s a little bit problematic, but my friends know I’m just goofing around, if that makes sense. With that particular friend, that was his whole M.O.
It didn’t become a band name or artist name for a very long time. I was playing in a bunch of Brooklyn bands. You’re collaborating with people, and they don’t come to fruition because people fall out. It’s like you’re basing your entire ability to succeed or progress artistically on another person—which is great if it works out, but it sucks if it doesn’t. I got fed up with that and decided to do my own thing. In a last-minute decision, we had an opportunity to play a house show that I booked. I was just like, “We’re just calling it this.” It just stuck. [Laughs.]
When you hear that name, I think a lot of people are like, “Is this a bunch of white guys that have this name?” [Laughs.] I think their alarm bells start flashing red, rightfully so. Just that sort of reaction and then having to talk them down—“No actually, it’s this”—has gotten me tons of joy. My name is Roshan, but on tour people would forget my name all the time. They would just start calling me Big Scary Indian. That makes me laugh.
When I first did it, I guess I just didn't realize—maybe this says more about me than anyone else—that people would take offense to it. I think I was thinking of ODB or NWA. I’m like, “It’s kind of like that, isn’t it? My shit is PG compared to that!”
The quote that you mentioned. The name took on a bigger significance, and this was the thing that I wasn’t quite sure if it would be appropriate to ask about, but that friend passed away. So it took on more emotional significance to me just because it was sort of a way of keeping his spirit alive.
This is why I love writing about this stuff: Seldom do you know the full story behind artistic choices, and it’s always a treat when it turns out to be sneakily poignant. Most of the time there isn’t much to a band’s name, or it’s just an inside joke. That’s to be expected, but also celebrated. Inside jokes are part of the cartilage that holds relationships together. They’re secret bonds linking people across time and distance—and, in some cases, beyond lifetimes. I love that this silly reference became Roshan’s social media handle, then his artistic name, and now also serves as a tribute. I think his friend would be psyched.
POST-SCRIPTS
Last year Big Scary Indian released a full-length called Be Holding No Bodies, which a Bandcamp fan described as “masterfully psychotic.” It is well worth checking out.
I made it to 7:44 of the 21:26 YHWH Nailgun interview. Fourteen liars gave the video a thumbs up.
Two Simpsons and one Mr. Show reference in a single edition? I truly am a caricature of, like, Gen X alt-comedy indie-rock jackassery.