Author: Anahid Yahjian
“Sorry about the smell,” Loren Turner said as he led me out of the rain and into his van, where Eric Nally and Sky White—two of his four sole companions for the past three weeks—quietly awaited my arrival. Shoving aside a worn-out sneaker and folding over a stained makeshift mattress, he invited me to make myself comfortable.
Such was my introduction to the off-stage personas of Turner’s Cincinnati-based band Foxy Shazam, named after a popular phrase at Nally’s high school. With Turner on guitar, Nally on vocals, White on keyboard, Joseph Allen Halberstadt on drums and Daisy on bass, the band has been active for almost three years, with a 2005 self-release, The Flamingo Trigger, already under their belt. On the third week of their tour to promote their debut with New Weathermen Records, Introducing Foxy (to be released January 22, 2008), they played for the second time at Chain Reaction in Anaheim on December 1, along with tour mates Heavy Heavy Low Low.
Performing an approximately 45-minute set comprised of songs from both albums to a crowd varied in age, appearance and interest (Chain Reaction has a Guitar Hero station set up at the edge of the concession stand where many a young attendee could be seen with their backs to the stage throughout the evening), the band far-surpassed the allure of their records, once again proving that nothing can beat a live performance.
It was apparent that insanity would ensue on the tiny stage as soon as Nally picked up the microphone and began the first of many seemingly ambiguous monologues, told in the deep, reverberating tone of a preacher. The interludes would jump unexpectedly through subject matter ranging from racial perspectives to religious prayer, and though they didn’t serve any direct purpose as far as introducing the next song was concerned, the verbal tidbits seemed to set the mood for what was to come, transforming Nally into a storyteller and guide.
Once the rest of the band joined in—the most noticeable sound emanating from White’s frantically elegant keyboard strokes—Nally pretty much lost control in the most literal sense and became the personification of the rhythm, melody and speed of the music. Writhing on the ground, hanging off ceiling beams, gyrating against the floor, and just jumping with such gusto that the seat of his pants eventually ripped, he must have been the realization of every Ritalin-wielding psychiatrist’s worst nightmare—much to the crowd’s delight, of course.
Perhaps best described like a mash-up of carnival ambiance, gypsy dance, Beethoven, soul and good ol’ punk, Foxy Shazam’s sound is so multidimensional that at any given moment it can evoke references to acts ranging from the Blood Brothers, to James Brown, to the Pixies. Nally’s vocals bounce from low to high, from melodic to pure screaming, with Turner’s guitar following suit as he switches from power chords to Santana-like solos.
On stage, White’s keyboard transformed into a multi-use machine, serving the purpose of piano, synthesizer, stepladder, platform and desk, as he banged away on the keys using his fingers, feet, stool and even a fake deer’s hoof, his facial expressions all the while morphing at a maniacal pace. The insanity of vocalist and pianist came together at one point when White got down an all fours and Nally pretended to play him like a piano as he spoke the words to the theme song of The Fresh Prince of Bel Air, the crowd enthusiastically following along.
As the stage was cleared and Heavy Heavy Low Low began their performance, Nally, White, Turner and I remained in their van—which has served in the past as transportation, storage and lodging—while the other band members took care of the merchandise table.
Still sweating from their performance but completely reversed in composure, the guys spoke about the pleasures of finally “touring comfortably”—a status defined by hotel accommodations, food other than “canned beans and Ramen” and some extra money left over “to cover [their] asses,” according to Turner. They also explained that the maniacs they seemed to be minutes before were long gone.
“We have nothing in common with the five people on stage,” Nally said. “I really don’t hold back on stage—unless it would be insulting.” The band makes it a point not to curse, make racist insinuations or say “your mom” jokes, in addition to having great disdain for any type of mockery of people’s apparent fulfillment of various stereotypes—a reference to the commonly referenced “scenester” population that frequents Chain Reaction’s all-ages, $5-10 shows.
“We don’t care about who watches us, ” White said. “It doesn’t matter if it’s 200 moms or 200 dancing scene kids out there.”
All three members come from unique backgrounds, never graduating from college or ever being comfortable in academia.
“I’m a whole lot better at this,” White said. After two years of piano lessons and 12 years of being in bands—a result of his upbringing in a musical family—he was kicked out of his high school’s band for refusing to play their music. “I’m not going to play something I don’t like,” he said.
Though they don’t consider themselves to be “straightedge”—a punk subculture in which substance use of any kind is adamantly opposed—the band chooses to stay away from drugs and excessive drinking. In reference to a cigarette he seemed to have swallowed shortly after lighting it on stage, Nally laughed and responded, “I chew it up and spit it out. That’s why I don’t smoke—I know what it tastes like. I tell that to anyone who wants to quit.”
Turner compared the energy from the band’s chemistry and on-stage mischief to the thrill of bungee-jumping, adding that it had the ability to mask pain.
“We’ve all gotten horrible wounds and found them hours later,” he said. He has made a habit of drinking a lot of water and stretching prior to performances in preparation for the workout they give him and the rest of the band.
As for the future, Nally expressed a desire to play a “huge, sold-out coliseum” and reach their goal of “going down in history.” There didn’t seem to be any signs of wavering confidence or giving up in either of their determined faces as he added, “We will. We’re not dying.”
This article has been archived, for more requests please contact us via the support system.
