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Goblin Cock, Diarrhea Planet, Lil Poopy & 13 Other Unfortunate Musician Names
There's no guaranteed pathway to success in music. There is, however, one surefire way to make things super hard on yourself: Pick a name that people can't say, spell or refer to without resorting to cutesy euphemisms on TV, radio or the internet. Radiohead? Weird, but you can say it. Butthole Surfers? OK, bad example, because the Texas madmen had a measure of success in the 1990s despite their explicit handle.
That doesn't seem to have slowed down stoner metal band Goblin Cock, who dropped their third album, Necronomidonkeykongimicon (click here to listen) on Joyful Noise Recordings on Friday. The group, led by Pinback's Rob Crow (under the pseudonym Lord Phallus), has established a reputation for doing everything a band isn't supposed to if they want to grab the big brass ring of success. It's all clearly a goof, but they're not the only ones who've picked an NSFW name that might be holding them back.
L.A. Reid on Lil Poopy's Epic Records Deal: 'Not Signed Here, Baby'
We give you 13 bands/artists who are doing themselves no favors:
Goblin Cock
Lil Poopy
The controversial 13-year-old lyricist released his first rap record, Ima Cokeboy, in 2009 when he was just 9 years old. The Massachusetts rep -- whose father was reportedly arrested in June and charged with conspiracy to distribute cocaine -- also appeared on season 1 of Lifetime's search for the next pint-sized hip-hop star, The Rap Game.
Exploding Fuckdolls
This Orange County, California, punk band fronted by former pro skateboarder Duane "The Master of Disaster" Peters (Die Hunns, U.S. Bombs) and featuring twin brother bassist Art Godoy and drummer Steve Godoy (also former pro skaters) released one full-length, Crack the Safe, an overview of songs recorded from 1991-94. They appear to be on hiatus -- sorry, mom.
The rocking six-man garage punk band from Nashville has managed to carve out a successful life on the road and in the studio over the past eight years, releasing three albums -- including this year's rocking Turn to Gold -- as well as three EPs with a sound that mixes classic rock bluster with punk rock attitude. Even though their name sounds like worst NASA discovery ever.
Poohman
The Oakland MC (who also goes by MC Pooh) had a brief moment in the sun in 1992 when his album Funky as I Wanna Be peaked at #158 on the Billboard 200 albums chart. He released a pair of CDs on Jive in the early '90s and dropped his most recent effort, KAOS Theory, in 2014, with production by longtime collaborator Ant Banks.
Junglepussy
The professional name for Vice Records rapper Shayna McHayle is in-your-face on so many levels. She's gotten tons of props from the likes of Erykah Badu and Lil' Kim for singles such as "Cream Team" and her 2015 full-length debut, Pregnant With Success, which featured her signature mix of humor and wry social critiques. Not a ton of airplay though because, well, the name.
Tea Bag Boyz
Talk about a one-hit wonder (without the hit). This crew are best/least known for their 2011 anthem "Tea Bag," in which they promise to do some not very polite things to your lady. It's not clear what happened to Self, DJ Will, Johnny Handome, Sha and Keino, but you can bet they got stuck with a ton of those "I Am a Tea Bag Boy" T-shirts.
Jon Cougar Concentration Camp
This San Diego-bred Rancid-esque trio first got together in the mid-1990s, releasing albums on punk labels including Second Guess Records, BYO Records, before splitting in 1999 and reforming in 2009 to release My Hair Hurts. Somehow, mainstream success has eluded them, despite this very rational explanation of their name in 1997: "We were just making fun of John Cougar Mellencamp, obviously. We were just calling him John Cougar butt-camp, and we just came up with Jon Cougar Concentration Camp. We get more publicity 'cause of that than because of our music, definitely. I mean, we're probably doing him more of a service than anyone. Punk rockers don't listen to Mellencamp."
Shorty Shitstain
One of the lesser-known member of the Wu-Tang Clan-affiliated Brooklyn Zu crew (Buddha Monk, Merdoc, Raison the Zoo Keeper) that rolled with Ol' Dirty Bastard, Shorty appeared on ODB's Return to the 36 Chambers: The Dirty Version and 2006's Zu-Chronicles, Vol. 2: Like Father, Like Son.
Gay Witch Abortion
Shawn Walker and Jesse Bottemly don't seem overly concerned with Billboard chart domination. Their noise band's two full-lengths and live shows are a bizarre mixture of metal power and experimental jazz time signatures that often sound like a needle stuck in a groove. Also, they're called Gay Witch Abortion... so.
Fucked Up
Who says Canadians are all nice and polite? Someone forgot to tell this Toronto terror, which has been pummeling audiences with their epic punk anthems at shows that often devolve into chaos and destruction. Despite their troublesome name (and cryptic stage handles that include 10,000 Marbles, Pink Eyes, Mustard Gas and Concentration Camp) the band has gained a respectable following, earned some glowing reviews and released three well-received albums on Matador Records.
Tough Tits
The U.K. trio made up of Liz, Ayesha and Hells has been together less than a year, but their debut EP, Hairless, gained praise on both sides of the pond even if their name combined with the mini-album's title are just about the most NSFW thing you could ever Google. Smash the patriarchy indeed.
Shit Robot
Sometimes a bad band name doesn't really fit the sound. This DFA Records band is a perfect example. The pseudonym for veteran Irish DJ/producer Marcus Lambkin has been used to release a string of inoffensive, groovy electronic tracks over the past decade.
Candlemass' First Grammy Nod Underscores Doom Metal Band's Resilience
Despite breakups and health issues, the Swedish band's 30-plus-year career continues with March EP 'The Pendulum.'
Candlemass staked its place as architects of the doom genre with its iconic 1986 debut, Epicus Doomicus Metallicus. While the Swedish band has been active on and off since 1984, the quintet — singer Johan Langqvist, bassist Leif Edling, rhythm guitarist Mats “Mappe” Bjorkman, lead guitarist Lars Johansson and drummer Jan Lindh — recently gained traction thanks to a perhaps unexpected but well deserved Grammy nomination.
It was a first both for the band and its Austrian-based label, Napalm Records. While the 2020 best metal performance honor went to the expected winners and least “metal” of the nominees, Tool, Candlemass’ “Astorolus: The Great Octopus,” with guest guitar work from Black Sabbath’s Tony Iommi, was a more than worthy contender for the prize.
The track is on 2019’s The Door to Doom, which was almost the record that wasn’t, explains bassist, songwriter and founding member Edling. That’s because 2012’s Psalms for the Dead was meant to be Candlemass’ swan song.
“We had been going for so many years, and we didn’t always put 200 percent into it anymore. And with problems with my blood pressure and health, I hit the wall quite severely. I thought we should give it a rest. And the plan was the rest of the band should carry on [with] playing live without me, and whenever I could, I would join in. But,” he says with a laugh, “when you make plans, a lot of times, those plans change.”
Edling admits that about 70 percent or 80 percent of The Door to Doom’s lyrics deal with his struggles with chronic fatigue syndrome, which laid him low. Only now, he’s finally almost back to normal.
“It’s no fun being in bed for five years,” he understates. And the hangover from that time is in his head and in his music. “When I was younger, I always dreamed about falling from cliffs or high buildings. Now, I always dream I’m about to drown, which is totally about my disease.” (That said, Candlemass played the 70,000Tons of Metal cruise in January, though Edling preferred “margaritas on the beach” to the ocean.)
Vocalizing Edling’s experiences on the album is Langqvist, the band's voice of doom. Yet the record marks the singer’s return to Candlemass after 32 years: The band has disbanded twice in its history, with Edling pursuing other projects in those interims, and there have been five singers between Langqvist’s tenures. The lineup says of Langqvist’s welcome 2018 return: “The circle is closed.”
The power of the rejuvenated group was palpable, though the Grammy nod still left Edling musing about the circumstances surrounding the nomination.
“I mean, you can do a great album, and nobody will notice. You work hard on it and think it’s great. You get good reviews, but it doesn’t sell and nothing happens,” he says. “But you do the same album, like, five years later, and all of a sudden, all things click. I mean, what’s the difference from what you did 10 years ago? … Maybe it’s the secret magic ingredient of Mr. Iommi. I have absolutely no idea about [how Grammy nominations] work.”
However, 2020 is looking to be a banner year for the band. With Candlemass’ full-circle journey, Edling’s health finally on a rebound and the renewed energy from the Grammy nod, the future of doom -- Candlemass-style, at least -- has never been brighter. And another positive is swinging in the group’s way: the March 27 release of The Pendulum, a six-song EP of tracks cut during The Door to Doom sessions with producer Marcus Jidell in Stockholm.
Initially, in true epic doom style, a double-album soundtrack was brewing in Edling’s head. With about 20 songs in the works -- including instrumentals -- he began to think his ambitions were too grandiose.
“It was a really good decision to squeeze everything into one single album,” he says. “Even though I’m a big Beatles fan, I’m a big Led Zeppelin fan, [I still believe bands] should only make single records. I mean, Guns N’ Roses’ Use Your Illusion; what’s the use?”
The bassist will agree that as concept albums go, Pink Floyd’s The Wall is actually worthy of two records. “But I guess you come to a point in your career sometimes when nobody can say no to you. When you’re Led Zeppelin in 1975-76, nobody can say no to you. When The Beatles say, ‘We have a lot of songs,’ who is going to say, ‘No guys, I think you should cut half of it now. Paul, please?’”
So Edling edited himself, and the resultant EP is not so much leftovers from The Door to Doom as extras, evidenced by the instantly infectious title track that has shades of speedy early Black Sabbath with massive grooves and riffage. “To know when to stop is a really, really hard thing to do," he points out. "It’s easy to go on and on and on and say, ‘Hey, guys, this is f--king brilliant.’ It’s hard to lock yourself out of the studio because it’s fun to be in the studio.”
Indeed, he spends a lot of time hunkered down there: Edling has a young son in school -- he drops him off, goes to the studio for “dad fun” for six or so hours -- and returns to pick him up. At 56, he’s not a young dad, but he also makes the point that his fellow nominees in the best metal performance category weren’t exactly newbies, either. “We’ve all been at it for ages and ages. Where are all the young bands, you know, who were supposed to kick our ass?” he asks with a laugh.
While the attention from the Grammys didn’t catapult the band to household-name status, Edling has smaller goals: “I have never been endorsed [by a musical instrument company] in my life. Maybe somebody could throw some nice bass amps my way? If you play guitar, they throw the amps on you like popcorn!”