"I’ve got a prayer for you... and it’s right here."
1998 was a rock n’ roll ghetto: while “Moons” Pix and Safari weighed heavy on sighs, “A Thousand Leaves” introduced Sonic Youth to the Bonnaroo generation and nu-metal became the elephant in the middle of the room. Dark Nerd’s decision to sign with Merge records in June of that year is no stranger than the labels’ insistence on beating the indie rock world over the head with the insipid “Aeroplane Over the Sea,” penned by a band who would proceed to break up immediately from the shame, to the detriment of better makers. Word has it that Stephin Merritt actually begged for a delayed release of “69 Love Songs” after hearing Dark Nerd’s magnum opus. He got his wish. While clearly smitten and juiced about the buzz, Merge had no intention of putting any love into this beast of an album from the armpit of the Midwest.
Early reviews of the pre-release were dismal. Mojo called it “primal-one note drivel,” their shortest review in over five years (the prior consisting of: “I want to fuck Kim Deal” per “Last Splash’s” singular appeal). Just the name of the band became a subject of partisan debate. By Fall of 98, the plaid-wearing populace seemed to be split down the middle about the merits of Dark Nerd and their place in the universe. Divisive to be sure, but the believers did so with a ferocity unparalleled in those days. Their lone live recording is a testament to the incendiary breadth of the ardour with which they were worshipped. Sent to Merge offices hot on the heels of “The Basement Demo” in late summer of 98, “The Pizza Party” was a scorched earth affair in a plain brown wrapper. Heads were scratched in Chapel Hill for months. Merge balked on the contracted recording details and agreed to a cassette only release of the Basement Demos (June 98), and Pizza Party (July 98; *subsequently bootlegged under various guises in attempts to keep it in print, each version is slightly different. Brian Gould has stated that the 98 cassette release is a completely different recording than the copies circulated around Lollapalooza in 2000 (a fact disputed by their almost undeniable non-existence); certainly, the audio on the later boots is improved and the tracklisting pared down to the raw essentials, a decision referred to by none other than Julian Cope as “the greatest fucking assfuck in all of rock-fucking history”).
Dark Nerd was born into the world kicking and screaming from the ashes of Rugg City and The Norms. Brody Maag and Jeff Hyde had been bashing away at beer-soaked rumblings in their basement, pairing up with just about anyone who could take the verbal abuse and constant atmosphere of dread. The first was Jeremy Kerner, who has received some notoriety in late years as the front-man for the diminutively heliocentric “Solar Wimp.” They tried on an outfit heavily monikered: “Montana Star Rock” and actually played some shows (much to the disbelief of almost everyone in attendance). The two then contacted Jeff’s old band mate Brian Gould, then on hiatus from Atlantic Recording artists “Fast Food Revolution,” and decided to give it a go. Three months and several hundred breakfasts at the Kaffehaus from that auspicious meeting, the recording that now sits in your player was born. It is raw, it is primal. Maag’s drumming is pure caveman and the two axemen chop down redwoods. To use Hyde’s phrase from “Pizza Party:” “we’re not here to change the face of rock n’ roll… but we might.” That about sums it up.
Brian is currently involved with Middle Class Devil Cult in New Zealand.
“The Basement Demo”
“The Pizza Party”
