When I started Otik Records in 2002 it was because I thought having a record label put out my band From.’s record would make us look more legitimate. Back then when I got a band's CD and it didn’t have a record label logo, I didn’t think it was professional. I followed and revered indie labels like Epitaph, Fat Wreck Chords, Asian Man, Look Out! and all the other burgeoning 1990’s punk and ska labels and saw their endless output with no budget and so when our little scene was building, I thought I could do that myself. Following the lead from Orange County label, Vegas Records (owned by Johnny “Vegas” Halperin) I put out a compilation of 26 bands and didn’t “charge over $5.”
Before that however, I thought it would be fun to release OTHER bands' music and not just mine. In the few years Otik Records was relatively active, I released only 3 artists that I didn’t play drums in. The first such band, and really the main reason I wanted to branch out in the first place, was The Banana Explosive.
The Banana Explosive were a precocious trio of 14 and 15 year olds (?) from Torrance. Justin on guitar and vocals, John (Jerj) on drums and Ted on guitar. They had been coming to our shows for a bit and took a particular liking to Rock Goggle Fantasy and This Song Is A Mess But So Am I, like most others did at the time. (As an aside, I never thought me or my bands were hip enough for many and it’s kinda been a thing my whole life. Respected, maybe. Cool? Not so much. Overthinking it?Abso-fucking-lutely!)
They invited me to see them at their high school battle of the bands and I was floored. They were funny, sharp, messy as hell but the songs were so great. One song called “Turtle Baby Rabbit Killers'' had lines like
“Jesus got hit by a comet and a monkey got shot in the face…In the face.”
It wasn't The Shaggs bad. It was The Shaggs good. They played with aplomb and had so much spirit, which to me, is the secret to any great band. You can be sloppy or silly or tight and serious, but as long as you have spirit, you got it.
They recorded a demo with 4 songs and after hearing it, I knew I had to share this band with the world. They were too good not to with songs like “The Salami Boys” or “Do The Robot…Baby!” I followed this up by booking them a live session at the highly influential Los Angeles college radio station KXLU. They recorded 3 of the 4 songs from the demo and then a relentless, noisy and anarchic version of The Velvet Underground song “Sister Ray.” Anyone you meet under 18 who loves the Velvet Underground has clearly been doing their homework, so this was cool to me. Plus, guitarist Ted always wore a Velvet Underground shirt and that always stuck with me for some reason. I will say, after having just heard it again, and perhaps it’s my bias, but I like their version better.
The live session really captured what they were about and a clean recording would have probably done a disservice to be honest, so instead of spending money and recording the songs in a studio, we used the radio session as the official Otik Records release. We called it “The Bananas In The Bahamas… Cakes Of Poo” and the band and I handmade a bunch of CD-R’s of the session and sold or gave them out at shows that I booked for them.
This sense of doing whatever the hell they want carried throughout the short year they were a band. The shows were never the same and it was always interesting and fun, even if it was shambolic. In 2003, I released the aforementioned compilation CD of South Bay bands and put together a weekend long release party with 30 bands performing. I had given The Banana Explosive a great slot and this would by far be their biggest crowd at the time. In what I believe was their last performance, they hit the stage dressed like Zorro and rather than the configuration of 2 guitars and drums, it was one guitar, drums and a keyboard. I thought to myself, “Cool. They’re gonna do new songs.” I was wrong…They opened the set with what was deemed at the time (at least to me) their hit “Turtle Baby Rabbit Killers” and after about 15 seconds, started smashing their instruments. Drum sticks through heads, cords all over the floor, incessant feedback. This all lasted about 10 minutes and then they left the stage, sight unseen.
Sure, I was annoyed because I wanted this crowd to experience these songs and this joy and I wanted them to shine. However, after 10 seconds it dawned on me that this IS how they shine. This is who they are. They are contrarian. They are disruptive. They are…kids! They did what they thought was funny and what they thought would get a rise out of people. It worked. This is what punk (or growing up, or whatever) is. They stole the show without really playing. If I am right and this was their last show, they went out with a bang.
“Ever Get The Feeling You’ve Been Cheated?”
In the last 20 years, Justin and John continued to play music in various projects like Joyce Manor, Merry Christmas and The Losers (not to be confused with Howard Stern’s band of the same name) respectively. Ted went to medical school but has sadly since passed. I’ve been thinking about them and these Substack posts have opened up the cobwebs, so perhaps I am nostalgic but really, I just want people to hear stories that they may not have ever heard and hear music that meant a lot to a small sect of people a long time ago.
I also want to pay tribute to a world before social media and of course, pay tribute to Ted, my favorite Velvet Underground shirt wearing goofball.
Maybe I can get their side of the story for a future post. I am sure I got some of this wrong.
Without further adieu, The Banana Explosive!
Thanks for reading.