Interview with M.O.M.F.U.C.K. (Part One)

I first saw M.O.M.F.U.C.K. on MySpace. After repeated bulletins begging me to check out their new tunes, I decided to give them a listen. They listed themselves as "Tropical", "Trip Hop", and "Turntablism". I was disappointed to find out that those are apparently the three ingredients that combine into grindcore. With song titles such as "I Don't Give a Shit About Your Mom, She's Not the Fonz" and "Fast Times at Boner High", I felt utterly compelled to get into the minds of these four clever lads from Glen Rock, NJ. I finally got around to chatting with their bassist/singer Frankie "Fudge" Packard. Here is the Part One of our convo.

JS: So first off. That name. Goddamn it. How did you come up with that shit?

FFP: Well, our original name was Oedipus. But this metal band from West Newbury already had it, so we changed it to American Oedipus and that was taken by this singer songwriter whose legal name was actually American Oedipus. So we changed it to Amerikkkan Oedpius but that offended a lot of people, so then it was onto the less offensive Momfuck. We couldn't enter our school battle of the bands with that name so we changed it to Masters Of Mindless Functioning Ultimately Control Kids. We were hopping they'd abbreviate our name to the acronym, y'know, 'cause our name was so long and that the poster would say M.O.M.F.U.C.K.

JS: And did they?

FFP: They didn't end up making a poster for battle of the bands.

JS: But you didn't let that stop you.

FFP: As a band, you have to deal with a lot of crap. I guess, we just got our first taste. But no, it'll take a little bit more to stop M.O.M.F.U.C.K.

JS: How did you do?

FFP: We got disqualified when I said "fag" onstage.

PART TWO COMING SOON!

Yo, slam poetry is fucking hilarious.

Seriously, I have never heard a poem get slammed without laughing my dick off. Look at this, dude. HYSTERICAL!

High School Journal Keeper

Teen Teene Pt. 1

In the morning, shoving through hordes of nitwitted swaynes

I fall ill and suddenly aware of myriad pains

The buzzing like a hideous bee hive

Makes me wish I was not alive

Like coyotes thirsty for blood, they mingle

Dripping grins send my spine into tingles

One coyote, in particular, had the dullest fangs

Insecure about the regions where nothing good hangs

“I’ll make up for it by the loudest of howls!”

(And possibly a face that could move all bowels)

“I will hunt only the weak with my beady dead eyes

So what if I’m lacking between the thighs!”

And he hunted and hunted but to no avail

The arrogant bully routine has long grown stale.

Eelde Education

A phony intellectual with cruelty in her heart

A weak-minded audience to fake like she’s smart

Misspelling even the most common of words

Yet to no one does this seem absurd

“Let us mock our peers in public!” she proclaimed

While all but one mind thought this completely sane

“Let us set out these coyotes against each other

Let us make mourners of their mothers

For no one hear deserves to feel so great

What this place needs is even more hate!”

But those finals words fell on deaf ears as usual

Much like all her gestures, completely futile

“But what if someone gets hurt?” someone asks

“Why hurting someone is one of your main tasks!”

Teen Teene Pt. 2

The lumbering figure ambled down the hall

Like a sack of cottage cheese the size of a wall

On his mind, the naked torsos of girls

And that insipid leather ball he can’t help but hurl

Knuckles drag on tile like a hairless ape

As his ample skin hangs in a careless shape

But his disgusting body is immune to critique

As he eyes the girls around, his prospects are bleak

Who would touch such a bumbling beast?

Who let him get to second base at least?

The answer is no one and even he knows it

This is his life and he clearly chose it

Yr lungs are an organ wheezing a funeral dirge for my mental hygiene. I wonder if anyone else has friendship fantasies? Getting acquainted = sexy?? Why are ska bands leaving graffiti (skafitti?) on my doorstep?

CONSUMER DAY!

I bought a bunch of shit today. I helped America.

Lunch at the Wendy's fast food restaurant
Hazelnut iced coffee from McDonald's
Shellac - Excellent Italian Greyhound
Pissed Jeans - Hope For Men
No Age - Weirdo Rippers (this one was used! If you want a copy, ask me and I'll burn it for you because that shit costs like eighty dollars new.)
Box of Krusty-O's
Two six packs of Buzz Cola

Buying shit rules.

Love/Hate Continues

The love/hate rollercoaster ride involving me and Billy Corgan continues on. We're like Kane and Undertaker. For those keeping track, I love "Tarantula" and I think the video is awesome.

But seriously that new album has the most hideous cover I have ever seen in my whole life.

Someone Lost Fingers

Roisin Isner, drummer for the San Francisco band Tinkture lost her hand in Dolores Park last night watching the fireworks. Her dad sent the email below to some local media outlets...

Subject: Roisin Isner, Tinkture drummer

Hello,

I am Roisin's father. July 4th, Roisin and friends were in Dolores Park
watching fireworks. Some stupid piece of shit threw an M60 at them. It
landed on Roisin's right hand and blew it apart. She will undego surgery
later this morning but it doesn't look good. Most likely she will lose her
index finger; second and third fingers will also be permanently impaired and disfigured. Needless to say, her musical career is over.

I want this fucker.
Media attention will help flush him out. People know who did it and I'm offering $20,000 for a name. Please do whatever is necessary to get the story out. Do so and I will reward you as well.

Thank you,
Chris Isner


Most of the people I know and love use their hands for a living, so this certainly hits home. But after checking out Tinkture on MySpace, I sort of want to throw an M60 at her too. So I don't know who to side with on this.