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 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!
The list is shorter by one than usual, reasons being 1) I picked 6 but had already done 2 of them before; 2) I’m a day late as it is due to a fun weekend wine tasting trip; 3) there’s a long bonus list of fictional band names “below the fold.” These are the real ones:
The phrase “. . . by bears” is more commonly preceded by “eaten” or maybe “raised.” This kid is so annoying, when he gets lost in the woods, even the bears leave him alone.
Angsty Teens Seeking Money for Pizza
This was an almost automatic choice, purely based on length because I have a perverse fondness for long band names. But I also applaud the bald honesty of what these kids might be busking for. (And then I discovered they’re a Seattle two-piece — band after my own heart.)
Contrast! This is about as far as you can get from going out late at night to stand in the pit and hear a loud band.
Gross and funny and they have the most adorably disgusting logo.
The following band names are fictional. To celebrate the launch of my debut novel, THE GOSPEL ACCORDING TO ST. RAGE, I had a virtual launch party that included a drawing for prizes. To enter, guests were asked to submit one made-up band name, which would be featured in Square Pig.
This one gives me a groovy peace & love psychedelic vibe. (Submitted by Sherri Hoseini.)
A brief work of nonsense poetry that manages to evoke one of my own fictional bands, The Greebles. “Lawn dart core from the Heartland.” (Submitted by Tobias Cron of Square Pig fave Power Skeleton, Fleeble Flibes won 3rd prize, a free download of the St. Rage EP and inclusion in the sequel to GASR.)
Just guessing, but this sounds like an all-girl Celt-Punk outfit. (Submitted by my aunt, Sherrey Meyer.)
“Nu metal.” I admire the frankness (and the pretentiousness). The dudes are all squirming. Good. (Submitted by poet Andie Berryman, who also came up with My Bloody Vagina (emo) and My Bloodied Tampon (Goth). “All three will have a revival tour every bloody month.”)
This one came in after the contest closed, but I liked it enough to award it honorable mention. Spirit poultry flapping and honking whenever you go into that room. (Submitted by Steven Eric Scribner.)
This is a terrific intersection of music and law. “Invites nostalgic fans to recollect Recorded Recollection records AND under FRE 803(5) is an exception to the general rule against admissibility of hearsay statements in federal court proceedings.” (Submitted by Jennifer Chung, who is studying for the bar exam.)
Sanctified Jubilee Shitheads, The
Another late entry, this punk gospel choir has them slamming in the pews. (Submitted by my spouse Keith Eisenbrey, so it would have been disqualified from the prize drawing, anyway.)
Sour Orange Pie
This is apparently an actual recipe (which sounds delicious). Elegantly psychedelic, this one took second prize, a free ebook, free EP download, and inclusion in the sequel. I let the submitter pick the genre, with which I completely agree: jazz-fusion/avant garde a la Sun-Ra. (Submitted by Suzanne Winter.)
“Think of how many gigs they’ve already lined up w/o even knowing it!” Touring with TBA. (Submitted by Nan Hussey, one of my invaluable beta readers.)
For dog lovers. “This is the game our Border Terrier plays instead of the more usual fetch, which involves the return of the thrown object. Terriers do not return the object. Period.” So terriers are punks. This one took first prize, a signed paperback, EP download, and inclusion in the sequel. (Submitted by Audrey Bennett, a fellow writer who claims she never wins anything, so I’m happy to break that streak. And she’s a high school teacher, so she knows my target readership!)
The Three Bad Habits
“Band members dress in nun costumes.” This would be hilariously unwieldy and hot. The other meaning is even more ridiculous, because what band has only three bad habits? (Submitted by Amy McKendry, longtime member of my writing support group.)