The F-Tones
Looking over my CD collection not too long ago, I came across a disc I hadn't thought about in a little while. It's fairly non-descript cover mimics the old plain-wrapper bootlegs of the '70s. There are minimal liner notes that don't lend much in the way of unraveling the mystery of the band. It consists of one 8 minute track of mind-bending, alternately beautiful and horrific experimental music. Not something I would normally listen to, let alone buy, I pounced on it once I was filled in a little on this amazing duo. They call themselves The F-Tones.
While visiting Seattle last summer, my wife and I spent an afternoon at the Experience Music Project. This museum, created by Microsoft co-founder Paul Allen, is a funky looking building designed by Frank Gehry that houses a massive collection of musical memorabilia and exhibits. I remember seeing the gala opening a few years back on the news, but thought little of it because Seattle wasn't on the short list of places to go for me and the wife. But the latest trip to Oregon allowed us a couple of days to ourselves and Seattle came up now as an option. (The details as to that decision appear in the June Archives under Primus Sucks In Seattle Parts 1-4).
Our day at the museum was really enjoyable. The hours flew by as we wandered from exhibit to exhibit. I was especially impressed with the Jimi Hendrix display that featured many of his guitars, including ones played at Woodstock and Monterey Pop. Another large collection was a musical history of the Northwest. It was interesting to learn that beyond Hendrix, Heart, and the grunge bands of the '90s, Seattle and the rest of the Northwest contributed heavily to pop and rock music.
When we'd made our way pretty much around the place, we decided to check out the souvenirs. A small booth was set up temporarily while a gift shop was being constructed. They had the usual wares; keychains, t-shirts, and other trinkets. Nothing really caught my eye. But later, at another small counter, I found a CD for sale. Filed under F-Tones, I couldn't believe that the fabled disc had been released. I chalked it up to Allen's efforts to carry material that would appeal to folks in even the strangest corners of the music world. I didn't bother asking the clerk as to why it was for sale there, just how much. Ten bucks later, I held in my hand of copy of the F-Tones only released work.
The known history of the band is sketchy at best. A California duo making their way through the state of Washington, stopped at a recording studio in Seattle and laid down one bizarre track. Not unlike the White Stripes, some people find mystery in whether they are related or not, perhaps even married. Notoriously skeptical of their talents, they shunned the process of recording in the past, but for some reason decided to quickly record a few moments of magic. Some may say they did it on a lark, but musical history made a gain that day. As a matter of fact, they were previously known as The Bitchtones, but the studio (who would release the recording on it's own label) would not approve of the name. In defiance, they stubbornly asked to then be called The Fucktones and the studio heads sternly asked them to choose another moniker or not record at their facility. Fucktones became abbreviated as The F-Tones.
Based on my memory of the F-Tones, the story of that day is as follows: The studio wasn't too busy that day. Bookings were not usually done too far in advance, so if a performer timed it right, he or she could get right in and roll tape. Also, since they had no intention of recording that day before stumbing upon the place, they were without any instruments, so it was in their favor that the studio provided practice gear at no extra charge. There were about five booths, but only two with drums, guitar and bass in the same room. After looking around the place and asking some technical questions, the band decided to get some lunch first and had some pizza and beer not far from the studio to discuss what they'd play. After a little while, they both agreed to follow their stylistic intuition and play what comes to them on the spot.
They returned to the studio and paid for the time needed. No one was using any of the booths, so they decided to warm up in a rehearsal room adjacent to the recording booth. The man of the duo slammed a huge drum kit loudly and the lady popped her thumb on the strings of the bass, the thumping resonating off of the walls. Happy with the sound they were getting and not wanting to lose that freshness, they made their way to the recording booth. Disappointment set in immediately when it was found that only a electronic drum kit was available to record with. The man much preferred the sound of real drums, but caught up in the moment, he relented and sat down at the plastic pads. The lady grabbed a guitar from the wall. The engineer poked her head in the room to ask if they were ready. They both said yes and were told that when the red light went on, tape would be rolling. The man saw the red light and counted off, "One, two, three, four........". Eight minutes later, they called it a day. No other recording was done by the F-Tones that day or any other.
The song itself is very hard to describe. Most music is hard to describe anyway, since it is so connected to personal interpretation and human emotion. This performance veers wildly from high speed sonic pounding to dreamlike soundscapes with crazy, intermittent blasts of noise. Neither player gets into a groove and, in fact, they seem to actually avoid it. Listening to this recording can be maddening at times because just when you think you're "getting it", they change gears so quickly that it jars you, almost violently. At the four minute mark, they switch instruments with each other with a sustained guitar tone to fill in the time it takes to move about the studio. A moment later, the drums are abandoned for a bass guitar. Thundering slaps of the strings frame the gentle, deliberate power chord strumming of a distorted and out-of-tune guitar. There are moments when the listener might even wonder if the duo know how to play their instruments at all.
I've never been able to find anyone that can classify the F-Tones. Is it avant-garde jazz? Fusion? Experimental post-rock ambience? Noisepop? Or is it just shit? When I listen to the CD now, I smile and sometimes even laugh, pondering what it must have been like there in the studio. The sheer joy of the players comes through undeniably, regardless of what you think of the music. Whenever I feel like being challenged as a listener, I put on the rarest CD in my collection. The brilliant, mysterious, and fiercely incongruous F-Tones.
Anyone out there ever heard of 'em? Let me know by leaving Feedback below or email me with any info. (Click on FEEDBACK link and type response there or click on the email link up in the right hand corner of this page). I'll see if I can post up a link to an MP3 somehow so you can hear them for yourselves, because words hardly begin to relay the experience.
While visiting Seattle last summer, my wife and I spent an afternoon at the Experience Music Project. This museum, created by Microsoft co-founder Paul Allen, is a funky looking building designed by Frank Gehry that houses a massive collection of musical memorabilia and exhibits. I remember seeing the gala opening a few years back on the news, but thought little of it because Seattle wasn't on the short list of places to go for me and the wife. But the latest trip to Oregon allowed us a couple of days to ourselves and Seattle came up now as an option. (The details as to that decision appear in the June Archives under Primus Sucks In Seattle Parts 1-4).
Our day at the museum was really enjoyable. The hours flew by as we wandered from exhibit to exhibit. I was especially impressed with the Jimi Hendrix display that featured many of his guitars, including ones played at Woodstock and Monterey Pop. Another large collection was a musical history of the Northwest. It was interesting to learn that beyond Hendrix, Heart, and the grunge bands of the '90s, Seattle and the rest of the Northwest contributed heavily to pop and rock music.
When we'd made our way pretty much around the place, we decided to check out the souvenirs. A small booth was set up temporarily while a gift shop was being constructed. They had the usual wares; keychains, t-shirts, and other trinkets. Nothing really caught my eye. But later, at another small counter, I found a CD for sale. Filed under F-Tones, I couldn't believe that the fabled disc had been released. I chalked it up to Allen's efforts to carry material that would appeal to folks in even the strangest corners of the music world. I didn't bother asking the clerk as to why it was for sale there, just how much. Ten bucks later, I held in my hand of copy of the F-Tones only released work.
The known history of the band is sketchy at best. A California duo making their way through the state of Washington, stopped at a recording studio in Seattle and laid down one bizarre track. Not unlike the White Stripes, some people find mystery in whether they are related or not, perhaps even married. Notoriously skeptical of their talents, they shunned the process of recording in the past, but for some reason decided to quickly record a few moments of magic. Some may say they did it on a lark, but musical history made a gain that day. As a matter of fact, they were previously known as The Bitchtones, but the studio (who would release the recording on it's own label) would not approve of the name. In defiance, they stubbornly asked to then be called The Fucktones and the studio heads sternly asked them to choose another moniker or not record at their facility. Fucktones became abbreviated as The F-Tones.
Based on my memory of the F-Tones, the story of that day is as follows: The studio wasn't too busy that day. Bookings were not usually done too far in advance, so if a performer timed it right, he or she could get right in and roll tape. Also, since they had no intention of recording that day before stumbing upon the place, they were without any instruments, so it was in their favor that the studio provided practice gear at no extra charge. There were about five booths, but only two with drums, guitar and bass in the same room. After looking around the place and asking some technical questions, the band decided to get some lunch first and had some pizza and beer not far from the studio to discuss what they'd play. After a little while, they both agreed to follow their stylistic intuition and play what comes to them on the spot.
They returned to the studio and paid for the time needed. No one was using any of the booths, so they decided to warm up in a rehearsal room adjacent to the recording booth. The man of the duo slammed a huge drum kit loudly and the lady popped her thumb on the strings of the bass, the thumping resonating off of the walls. Happy with the sound they were getting and not wanting to lose that freshness, they made their way to the recording booth. Disappointment set in immediately when it was found that only a electronic drum kit was available to record with. The man much preferred the sound of real drums, but caught up in the moment, he relented and sat down at the plastic pads. The lady grabbed a guitar from the wall. The engineer poked her head in the room to ask if they were ready. They both said yes and were told that when the red light went on, tape would be rolling. The man saw the red light and counted off, "One, two, three, four........". Eight minutes later, they called it a day. No other recording was done by the F-Tones that day or any other.
The song itself is very hard to describe. Most music is hard to describe anyway, since it is so connected to personal interpretation and human emotion. This performance veers wildly from high speed sonic pounding to dreamlike soundscapes with crazy, intermittent blasts of noise. Neither player gets into a groove and, in fact, they seem to actually avoid it. Listening to this recording can be maddening at times because just when you think you're "getting it", they change gears so quickly that it jars you, almost violently. At the four minute mark, they switch instruments with each other with a sustained guitar tone to fill in the time it takes to move about the studio. A moment later, the drums are abandoned for a bass guitar. Thundering slaps of the strings frame the gentle, deliberate power chord strumming of a distorted and out-of-tune guitar. There are moments when the listener might even wonder if the duo know how to play their instruments at all.
I've never been able to find anyone that can classify the F-Tones. Is it avant-garde jazz? Fusion? Experimental post-rock ambience? Noisepop? Or is it just shit? When I listen to the CD now, I smile and sometimes even laugh, pondering what it must have been like there in the studio. The sheer joy of the players comes through undeniably, regardless of what you think of the music. Whenever I feel like being challenged as a listener, I put on the rarest CD in my collection. The brilliant, mysterious, and fiercely incongruous F-Tones.
Anyone out there ever heard of 'em? Let me know by leaving Feedback below or email me with any info. (Click on FEEDBACK link and type response there or click on the email link up in the right hand corner of this page). I'll see if I can post up a link to an MP3 somehow so you can hear them for yourselves, because words hardly begin to relay the experience.
posted by Tony at 10:10 PM
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