Naming a band is an act of concentrated creative expression. Square Pig in a Round Hole exists to reward five favorite band names each week. Winners are (usually) listed alphabetically. Selection is wholly unscientific and subject to whim, with a bias toward wordplay, humor, and local flavor. In most cases, I won’t know anything about the bands at the time of selection. Thanks to the Seattle Times club listings for abundant source material!
This promises to be one of those weekends with no time for blogging, so I’m getting this post done early; for the first time, on the same day I collect material, so it should be out before any of these deserving bands play their shows.
I’m a sucker for long-phrase band names. Is it achingly romantic or plain creepy?
Scam artists as clean-cut musical ensemble? I love this play on a classic band-name format.
So, you know how most people who say they want to write actually mean they want to have written? I want to have gardened. I love having beautiful or edible plants on my property, but I’m terrible at getting things established. My biggest successes have been a couple of lilac bushes. One established with almost no effort on my part, while the other took ten years to start blooming. But now I’m rewarded every spring with my favorite fragrant flowers for no work. So.
I thought it a delightful coincidence that they were playing the week of the first Presidential debates, then learned they are actually playing after a live screening of the debates at the Royal Room. I like the not-so-subtle innuendo almost hidden in there.
Another classic naming scheme: the mundane object or product. Nail polish was the only cosmetic I used on a regular basis, although even that has fallen by the wayside. I might have to take it up again; the protagonist of my novel THE GOSPEL ACCORDING TO ST RAGE gains absurd confidence by painting her toenails silver before a show — even though she’s wearing boots and no one else knows.
Karen Eisenbrey 