NOTE: Citing my notoriously faulty memory and my tendency toward “mendacious untruth” (not my words), various fifi alumni and supporters have graciously added corrections and additions where necessary throughout this series. If there are no corrections in the article below, that must indicate that my recollections are without error.

Sensing the Approach of Nightfall,
fifi Places All Cards on the Table

TURN! TURN! TURN!

After completing “Captain Kangaroo,” I got married, and so did Eric. In 1990, my son Max was born. Eric joined the military. Eric and I seemed to be drifting apart as our adult lives took shape. It was becoming more and more difficult to find time for collaboration on our silly little fifi project. In fact, after the completion of “Captain Kangaroo,” there was at least a year-long stretch during which we didn’t speak to each other at all. He moved, I moved, and we lost track of each other.

Sometime in 1990 or 1991, Eric wrote to me from Germany, where he was currently stationed. He had purchased a beautiful new guitar, he said. He had some great ideas for a new album, he said. As it happened, I had some ideas of my own. Tentatively, via hand-written letters (this was 1990; nobody had a personal computer yet) we began work on our final album.

Of course, each album we recorded had to be chosen from the list of albums we had already cited on the “Does its Duty” greatest-hits album. We chose “Everybody Should Love Each Other and Live in Peace and Harmony,” which meant that we would have to re-record “African Disequilibrium.” Since this was to be, by mutual agreement, our final album, we knew we would need to include the long-awaited Part I of “Evil Dairy Products.” We quickly decided that the rest of the album would be our “concept album.” After tossing around some not-very-interesting ideas for this proposed concept album, I pulled out a box that I had been saving for five years. This box was packed with scraps of smudged and wrinkled notebook paper, each sheet covered with the sophomoric abstract poetry we had written in high school. We read those aloud to each other, laughed ourselves sick, and picked out the “best” stanzas as the lyrics for our concept album.

Our grandiose vision necessitated additional musicians, so Eric recruited long-time friend and fifi supporter Dan Carnahan, making fifi a power trio, just like Triumph. “I’m young, I’m wild, and I’m FREE!”

In search of a new studio, closer to home and sympathetic to our unique “vision,” I walked into London Studio, right on “The Ave” in Seattle’s University District. The studio manager, Clark (“The Branimal”) Branum, seemed like a cool guy with a sense of humor… PLUS the studio was downstairs from a music store. According to Clark, we could use any equipment or instrument in the store, as long as we were recording after hours and didn’t break anything! This turned out to be completely untrue, but it sure sounded good at the time, so I scheduled a meeting with Clark to outline our recording plans.

When I came in for my meeting with Clark, I brought with me my “Recording Notebook,” which contained all of the lyrics, chord changes, hand-drawn drum patterns, lists of sound effects that were required for each song, amateurish sketches, lists of songs to use as production references, etcetera.

“This song will be a recreation of the F.A.R.T.S. concert performance at Mountlake Terrace High School, with audience members shrieking in pain as the lunch tables collapse, and the principal will be screaming through a bullhorn in the background!” I informed Clark, excitedly.

“This song starts with a radio dramatization of the Evil Dairy Products’ spaceflight and crash-landing on Earth and in the middle there’s a battle scene with laser sounds and explosions, while Captain Gouda announces their plans to mate with Earth women!” I continued, rapidly flipping through the pages of my notebook.

After a few minutes of this, Clark stopped me. “This all sounds great, Jason, but we’re not really set up to do that kind of elaborate, uh… pre-production work here. I’m gonna hook you up with a guy I know…”

DIGITAL PRE-PRODUCTION WITH JAY KENNEY: 11/91-5/92

Thus began six months of pre-production work with Jay Kenney, in his Wallingford home. Every other week, or whenever I could afford it, I went to Jay Kenney’s house and followed him downstairs, to the back corner of his dark basement, behind the Hammond organ and Leslie tower, through a fringe curtain, to the Kenney Pre-Production Facility. I brought stacks of sound effect CDs and LPs, hand tools, easily-breakable pieces of wood, squeaky camera tripods, cassettes of fifi’s previous albums, various percussion instruments, and anything else that might help us to create the elaborate backing tracks and multitudinous sound effects we needed for the album. I programmed most of the drum tracks on a crummy old Yamaha drum machine which luckily had MIDI out capability. Once we had transferred my drum tracks into Jay’s computer, we would substitute more “professional” drum sounds, and Jay would fix any mistakes arising from my complete ignorance of music theory.

“Why is this snare on the 3?” he would ask, calmly, and I had no answer. Without comment, he would turn back to his computer screen and set about shifting the entire song one beat to the right. Or whatever. Half the time, I didn’t know exactly what he was doing. I just kept saying “no” until it sounded right, at which point I would say “oh holy shit that’s perfect!” and we would move on to the next item in my notebook.

Not only did Jay help me create and record all of the backing tracks and sound effects; he gradually became a co-writer and de facto fourth member of fifi.

“It should go like ‘DUH-duh-duh-DUH-duh-duh’ and then the church bell rings on the last iteration, and underneath that should be a military marching band snare drum like ‘ba-da-rrrap-bap-ba-da-rrrap-bap’” I would say, and Jay would do exactly that.

In May 1992, Jay and I had done all we could do in his basement. Jay off-loaded all of the digital info onto eighty (yes: EIGHTY) floppy discs, which we carefully numbered, boxed, and drove over to London Studios. While Clark monitored the process at $25 per hour, Jay loaded the floppies one by one into the studio computer, and then we played the audio out of the studio computer, in real time, and recorded it to half-inch analog tape.

Pre-Production was complete.

Well, almost. Of course, somehow the most current version of one of the songs had been lost in the transfer, which meant a return to Jay’s studio, another evening of work, and another transfer session at London. But, yeah, Pre-Production was essentially complete.

ANALOG RECORDING IN LONDON STUDIOS
WITH CLARK BRANUM: 7/92-11/92

Sometime during the analog recording process, Eric and I realized that, inexplicably, this album was turning out to be really… you know: “good.” For the first time, we weren’t cutting corners or settling for “good enough” – we were actually producing the kind of album we had always envisioned. It began to dawn on us that our songs were actually funnier when they sounded more professional, when we weren’t relying simply on the cheap laughs of inept musicianship and production.

Unfortunately, this insight and newfound pride prompted us to completely toss out the work we had done on a couple songs and start from scratch. It was as if we had a child; a child that we had always loved, while also assuming that the child was mildly retarded. One day, we realized that – far from being a lovable idiot – our child might actually be a gifted sculptor (or whatever: you get the idea). Suddenly, we wanted to give that child every opportunity to shine. We deeply regretted our past inattention, vowing to become better parents.

All of which cost a lot of money, and longer hours in the studio, and only served to deepen the resentment in my little family:

Jen: No really, I did try for as long as I could to be supportive. I thought it would probably run its course, like a bad virus, and leave me with a shiny clean, new husband person, rid of his creative demons, and who would not address himself as a woman (Annette) or borrow any more of my lingerie. I was wrong.

Gamely trying to make it “fun” I joined on a few studio sessions… let me tell you – horrifying. Absolutely horrifying. The routine was this:

Get into a huge dither for days in advance, gathering tapes, lyrics, etc. Just panicking over nothing, as far as I can recall.
Get to studio, be mildly excited to be “doing something” with fifi.
Be bored for 17 hours while Eric and Jason laugh themselves silly over rotted dairy products or something.
Be pissed at all the girls who thought Jason was cute, smart, or amusing.
Beg to go home and Stop. The. fifi. Madness.

Not to be a stick in the mud, but shoot. We had a baby, we had a serious religion that I barely understood and was trying my best to believe in, and I was not yet 22. I wanted some attention from this “husband” of mine, and it was a dark day when I realized… his heart was forever to be shared with the sickly pink spectre of a poodle with blood coursing down its fangs… fifi. The bane of my marriage. The bane of my attempts to grow up. The evil temptress of my young husband’s soul.

You know what? The hell with fifi.

(insert awkward silence here)

Besides prompting us to shitcan some of our sub-par work, this dawning belief that we had an obligation to produce the BEST FIFI ALBUM EVER also led us to add more and more flavoring to the stew: I tried my hand at turntable “scratching.” Eric learned to play mandolin. We convinced some members of the Mountlake Terrace High School Glee Club to come in and sing harmony parts. We played the sound of a toy cellphone through Eric’s guitar pickup.

Summer turned to Fall, and then to Winter, and the recording continued. Then Clark got in a dispute with London Studios management, and we were without a studio again. Which was actually fine, because I had gotten into a dispute with my own employers, and I now found myself out of work, living with my parents-in-law. Also, Eric was in Germany (or Panama; now I can’t remember).

ANALOG RECORDING AND MIXING
IN AUDIO LOGIC STUDIOS
WITH CLARK BRANUM AND JAY KENNEY: 11/92-5/93

Eventually, the situation righted itself; Clark and Jay went into business together and opened their own studio in North Seattle, named Audio Logic. I had completely lost contact with Eric, so I finished the album as my finances allowed. As Summer approached, we completed the analog mixing of “Everybody…”

DIGITAL MASTERING IN 55TH ST STUDIO
WITH CLARK BRANUM AND GUY STALEY: LATE 1993

But, alas… each of the separate “movements” of our epic “concept album” had been mixed separately. For the whole thing to work as envisioned, those movements had to cross-fade into each other. This necessitated a $350 night of “digital mastering” at 55th St. Studios, just off Broadway in North Seattle.

“So, did you bring the DAT for the final mix?” asked Guy, as we sat down to work.

Arrgh. A quick trip to Tower Records resolved that problem, and we continued.

When I stumbled, bleary-eyed, out of 55th St. Studios early the following morning, the album was complete. Total cost to yours truly: $4000.

STATIONS OF THE CROSS

Above, I’ve given an overview of the production of fifi’s “Everybody Should Love Each Other and Live in Peace and Harmony.” Reading the above, however, may give you a distorted perspective, since I’ve intentionally skipped over a whole laundry list of bizarre occurrences and seemingly insurmountable roadblocks that plagued the project. Looking back through my notes from the time, I am quite honestly amazed; the fact that you can even listen to this album today is either a straight-up case of divine intervention, or else a staggering testament to dumb tenacity. Take your pick, though I’m leaning toward #2.

If you get an unhealthy charge out of other people’s misfortune, here’s an abbreviated list of some of the events that would have crushed the dreams of lesser men:

  • Eric was in the military, stationed in Germany, with no idea when he might return to Washington. Just when it looked like he might be coming home, Gulf War I flared up, and he was detained.
  • Although Eric was overseas, he had left his guitar at home. During his absence, Eric’s brother’s delinquent friends stole Eric’s guitar, bass, and amp… and pawned them for drug money.
  • Things began to look up when Eric bought himself a beautiful new guitar and amp in Germany. Upon his return to the States, however, he realized that the amp would only work in Europe. He finally got someone on the military base to replace the Germanic transformer with a good, old-fashioned Made-In-The-USA model, which solved the problem, as long as you could ignore the constant buzzing and occasional squealing sounds.
  • I got fired for “insubordination.” Around the same time, my car broke down. We ran up enormous credit card debt that took years to pay down. Jen and Max and I ended up living with Jen’s parents.
  • I developed a double hernia and had to undergo the most painful operation and recovery I have ever experienced in my life.
  • On the first day that I felt I might actually recover from the nightmarish hernia episode, I fell out of a tree and broke my back.
  • After returning to the States, Eric was living an hour away from me, in Tacoma. This not only limited the times we could write or practice together, but when Eric’s car inevitably died, it meant that Eric was stuck in Tacoma, unable to come to the studio, for several months.
  • Between paying for his car repair and other expenses, Eric was unable to pay his phone bill, which meant that I was not able to contact him for months at a time.
  • Dan’s phone was also shut off, so I couldn’t contact him, either. That didn’t matter so much, though, after…
  • Dan got thrown in jail.
  • Dan got evicted, thus completing the phone shut off/thrown in jail/evicted trifecta.
  • Eventually, Dan found a place to live, but had to pawn his only good guitar to pay his still-outstanding phone bill.
  • Eric’s wife was afflicted with a mystery ailment, forcing her to quit her job and confining her to bed for weeks at a time. Between the decreased income and the astronomical medical bills, Eric’s ability to contribute to our studio bill was understandably diminished.
  • I got a great new job… and then got fired again.
  • Eric, um… disappeared. I found out later that he had been posted to Panama, but he had not contacted me or left a forwarding address, so I’m like, um, Eric? WTF?
  • While Eric was posted to Panama, his wife moved to Alaska and divorced him.
  • Eric’s parents separated.
  • Just when it seemed that the cosmic tally of Eric’s bad luck could not possibly tolerate one more entry… Eric was involved in a horrible car accident in Panama, which left him with seizures, chronic back pain, and a totaled car.

There was more, but those are the highlights.

EVERYBODY SHOULD LOVE EACH OTHER
AND LIVE IN PEACE AND HARMONY: A LISTENING GUIDE

Evil Dairy Products, Part I – Almost certainly the most accomplished thing fifi ever recorded. The music at the beginning was dictated by me, then arranged and performed by Jay Kenney. During the opening “radio dramatization,” you can hear me and Creery and Jen, plus the voices of several friends who will no longer speak to me, offering further proof of Christopher Hitchens’ dictum that “Religion Poisons Everything.” The sound of the spaceship crashing is actually the sound of a semi truck crashing from “Terminator 2.” Much of the dialog during the battle scene was based on a scene from “The Mysterians” (if you have not seen it, do so immediately). My favorite line in the song, “Smell our stinky madness,” was courtesy of long-suffering fifi widow Jen. Eric’s guitar in this song is so good, it’s hard to believe that this is the same guy who played on “Sorry ‘Bout That.” I had to do the vocal track in two separate takes; I couldn’t switch between the two “voices” without coughing. This is one of the very few fifi songs on which I’m not embarrassed of my vocals. Every time I listen to this song, I’m flabbergasted that we pulled it off.

African Disequilibrium – I’ve already offered my apologia for this song, so I won’t do that again. I like this version of the song very much. We put an extraordinary amount of effort into all the background animal sounds; listen for the cow. While the primary drum tracks are all programmed, you can also hear some appropriate percussion that I added, and two nice samples from African field recordings that you will hear layered in at the end; they didn’t really match the timing of the other drum tracks, so we had to “play” the samples in time with the main tracks. We spent a lot of time on this song, and I think it sounds swell.

The Sound of One Hand Clapping, Movement 1 (The Complete, Total, Absolute, Utter Obliteration and Destruction of Everything That Is, Was, or Ever Will Be, or Ever Won’t Be, Either) – Over the spooky wind effects, you will hear sampled excerpts from earlier fifi recordings and, as a bonus, Eric speaking in German. He’s saying something like: “I am the scary pink dog” etc. The part where Eric and Dan begin singing “Up in the mountains, there is no sound…” always makes me laugh. Sublime.

The Sound of One Hand Clapping, Movement 2 (Woman) – The drum pattern and ambient synth sound were loosely inspired by David Sylvian’s “Backwaters” and Peter Gabriel’s “Birdy” soundtrack. The disembodied voice speaking in tongues (“Korah basandah boto botonday sateeyah”) is Robert Tilton. Pretty cool how the last snare hit kicks off Movement 3, don’t you think? That’s the digital mastering work of Guy Staley, right there.

The Sound of One Hand Clapping, Movement 3 (Stanley the Cat’s Colonic Phantasm) – Eric had come into possession of an electric mandolin, so we wrote a song to feature it. London Studios had some congas and one of those “vibra-slap” things which I desperately wanted to play, and this seemed like a perfect opportunity to throw in all of that. This is one of the songs that we “rebooted” when we realized that it had the potential to be one of the best songs on the album. Clark Branum played the rhythm and lead guitar in the last two minutes of the song. I’m particularly happy with my percussion on this song, and Clark’s solo, and Eric’s vocals. The final backwards effect is another taste of the Staley magic.

The Sound of One Hand Clapping, Movement 4 (To Cudgel [One’s Brains]) – On this song, you can hear Tamara Zagurski, Traci Sheehan, and Danny Higdon, of the Mountlake Terrace High School Glee Club, gamely providing the backup vocals. I had a long-standing unrequited crush on Tamara. Sigh. Plus, she did a fantastic job on our stupid songs, and acted like she was having fun. Thanks for that, Tamara. On this song, you can also hear my lame attempts at turntablism. At approximately 1:20 into the song, there is a spot for Eric’s guitar solo, but he doesn’t appear, so we call him at home, and he plays his solo over the phone. In reality, of course, Eric’s guitar solo is simply played in the studio, but his vocals are actually recorded over the phone, calling the studio from the music store upstairs.

The Sound of One Hand Clapping, Movement 5 (And Now… Annette’s Anti-Anathematizational Analysis) – This song is intended to be an exaggerated recreation of the disastrous F.A.R.T.S. Benefit Concert at Mountlake Terrace. To this end, we brought our 20 closest friends into the studio to record several tracks of crowd noise, which we layered on top of some crowd sounds from a sound effects CD. Historically interesting note: As the song opens, He’s shouts “I’m Not Neil Diamond!” – a song that we played at the F.A.R.T.S. concert, but never recorded. Eric plays He’s, as well as Jerry Karnofski, the MLT principal. Throughout the song, you can hear “Jerry” chastising various honor roll members and football players for their anarchic behavior. Listen closely, and you can hear automatic weapons fire in the audience. Jay provides the faux sitar sounds and other keyboards, and Clark did an excellent job of making me sound as much as possible like Robert Plant. When the tables begin to collapse, that’s the sound of me breaking kindling and throwing 2×4s on the cement floor in Jay’s basement. “Thanks for all the toys – they’re gonna make some starving kids really happy!”

The Sound of One Hand Clapping, Movement 6 (Blind Man in a Revolving Door) – The background department store ambiance is from a sound effects CD, and the sound of the revolving door is from a squeaky camera tripod. Eric’s final wail of despair always makes me laugh. “Fire Sale in the Prosthetic Limbs department!”

The Sound of One Hand Clapping, Movement 7 (Slumbering Somnolence While Sleeping) – The delicate guitar in this song was written and played by Dan Carnahan. The melancholy fake cello is Jay. The storm sounds and thunder are from my sound effects CD (inspired by “The Song is Over”). The final “rain does seep” harmony is Jen (nice job, pal). One of my top ten favorite fifi songs.

The Sound of One Hand Clapping, Movement 8 (Cozy Malevolence; “Distended” Geese) – More of the “Department Store Ambiance” track from the sound effects CD, plus a Muzak track from the Capitol “Production Music” set.

The Sound of One Hand Clapping, Movement 9 (Soliloquy for Two People) – Does anyone else remember that “They call these cookies ‘squirrels’?” commercial? No? Just Eric and me?

The Sound of One Hand Clapping, Movement 10 (Bob Barker’s Infamous Cannibalistic Rodential Veterinarianism) – Another one of the songs that we started, then dumped and re-started, because it deserved better than our initial amateurish attempt. One of my favorite fifi tracks. The audio samples are all from a series of stereo test records I bought at stores in the University District. The “Stereophonic Sound Spectacular!” sample was later used by the trip-hop group Hooverphonic; they even named an album “Stereophonic Sound Spectacular.” Jay provided the propulsive phased synth sound, I wrote the drum track and played the socket wrench, and Eric provided the multiple guitar tracks and the “Zooropa”-inspired vocals. During the “Track the Groove” chorus, you can hear a toy cell phone held against the pickups of Eric’s guitar. Hard to believe this is the same fifi that recorded “Death Poodle.”

The Sound of One Hand Clapping, Movement 11 (An Important Message from He’s) – In my opinion, this and EDP Part I have the most excellent guitar work of the entire fifi oeuvre. This song is almost entirely the creation of Eric and Dan. I especially like the reverse reverb, which leads me to the following digression:

Linguists divide the mechanisms by which cultures develop a written language into two broad categories: Blueprint Copying and Idea Diffusion. In the case of Blueprint Copying, members of one culture receive the building blocks of a written language directly from a more linguistically-advanced culture. In the case of Idea Diffusion, the recipient culture may be aware of the fact that surrounding cultures possess written languages – may even recognize the advantages of a written language – but nobody has yet handed over a goddamn dictionary or anything useful like that, so the recipient culture is eventually forced to invent a written language of their own, from scratch.

The reverse reverb effect here is an excellent example of Idea Diffusion: This is an effect we had heard on other artists’ albums, and we were definitely aware of how fucking METAL that effect was… but we had no direct information on how to recreate it, so we had to make something up.

After much trial and error, we hit upon the following: record the guitar track, play the recorded track backward while adding a reverb effect to the output, record the result to a separate track, and then play the whole mess forward again. Which may not have been the same way Judas Priest did it, but our Mickey Mouse method sounded so perfect coming over the studio monitors that we laughed until tears streamed down our faces.

The “…and after death, the judgment” sample is from a Jerry Falwell LP I picked up in a thrift store. Dan is singing/growling the lead vocals, and Eric is doubling the vocals in the background. A perfect example of one of our songs being funnier because it almost sounds… you know, professional.

The Sound of One Hand Clapping, Movement 12 (O Heed the Exhortations of fifi, the Prescient Pooch) – The opening is inspired by the beginning of Supertramp’s “Even in the Quietest Moments.” Eric is playing the sweet lead guitar, and Dan is providing the gnarly rhythm guitar; an improvised addition that kicks the song up a notch. Jay is playing the (fake) flute, triumphant (fake) brass section, and other keyboards. Members of the much-lauded Mountlake Terrace High School Glee Club are providing the harmony vocals. On the original recording, Eric said “Come on, now!” one stanza later. When Clark and I were mixing, we both felt that this should come just before the introduction of the triumphant horns, as if Eric was summoning them into existence. Clark sampled that vocal outburst, placed it one stanza earlier, erased the original, and all was well.

VIDEO

  1. “Sorry ‘Bout That” Documentary, Part 6A
  2. “Sorry ‘Bout That” Documentary, Part 6B

AUDIO

Download the entire album in a .zip file, or…

Download the songs individually below:

  1. Evil Dairy Products
  2. African Disequilibrium
  3. The Sound of One Hand Clapping, Side A (Movements 1-3)
  4. The Sound of One Hand Clapping, Side B (Movements 4-12)

As you can see above, “The Sound of One Hand Clapping (Sweating Zithers)” is made up of several shorter “movements” (ahem). As part of the album proper, and as originally intended by the members of fifi, each movement cross-fades into the next, taking the listener on a continuous audio journey, a Burroughsian stream-of-consciousness “trip,” if you will. Admittedly, this holistic vision may prove overwhelming for the casual fan. What if, for example, you adore Movement 7 (“Slumbering Somnolence While Sleeping [Reprise]”) but aren’t particularly fond of Movement 6 (“Blind Man in a Revolving Door”) or Movement 8 (“Cozy Malevolence; ‘Distended’ Geese”)? If this describes your predicament, feel free to download the “One Hand Clapping” movements individually below:

  1. Movement 1
  2. Movement 2
  3. Movement 3
  4. Movement 4
  5. Movement 5
  6. Movement 6
  7. Movement 7
  8. Movement 8
  9. Movement 9
  10. Movement 10
  11. Movement 11
  12. Movement 12

LYRICS

In case you’re interested (and also because Robin says she can’t understand what the hell we’re singing), the lyrics for this album can be found here.

Proceed to the next chapter in the spellbinding fifi saga.