The Atomic Missiles: The Unauthorized Post

When I was in college in New Brunswick, my favorite local band was The Atomic Missiles. They were friends of mine, brilliant guys and artists who had never played or written music before they decided to become a band.

I was there the night they decided to become a band and learn to play. In that order. They had an idea that they could market themselves and create a buzz even before they had their first show. In a way, it was more marketing experiment than musical experiment, at least at first. But it was a marketing experiment  born of good fun rather than monetary interest. Their attitude that night, and pretty much every night thereafter, was: why not?

It's fair to say that I spent a lot of time with The Atomic Missiles during the very early days. They made patches from rough cuts of orange canvas that they hand-stamped with "Atomic Missiles." They were very cool and, sure enough, started popping up on backpacks around campus before the band had played their first show--possibly before they had written their first song.

But they also attacked music with gusto. They practiced constantly. They had so much fun that, even early on when their "sound" was still so raw that it was hard to listen to, their attitude was contagious. It was impossible not to have fun at an Atomic Missiles show. And, with all that practicing, it didn't take long before they sounded pretty good. One of their first hits was a song called "Charmander." I think Charmander was a character from Pokemon, but not knowing for sure didn't affect my ability to love the chorus: "Charmander, Charmander, you're gonna die."

I don't know what happened to The Atomic Missiles later on. At least, not first-hand. I left New Brunswick long before they did, and lost track. I do know that they kept playing, that they became quite popular, and that they stayed together for a long time. There was at least some rotation of band members, and I don't even know exactly who ended up really being IN the band, but most of the guys from the house they shared are still musicians, and they all still have the same attitude about life: why not?

The attitude of the guys who lived in the Missile's Silo, their name for the house they shared, was so contagious that it infects me still. It was the first time I'd ever seen anyone, let alone an entire group of people, actively decide that the possibilities for fun and success outweighed the potential for embarrassment. Deciding to play in front of people is terrifying, and it stops many amazing artists from singing, or playing, or even writing or painting. But what is embarrassment, really? It's not physical pain. It's a little uncomfortable, maybe, but it doesn't actually matter in the big scheme of things. Besides, I can live the most careful life imaginable and still feel embarrassed on a regular basis (especially considering my penchant for tripping over nothing and accidentally somersaulting into dog poop). So why not shake off that fear and go for it? If I'm going to be embarrassed anyway, it might as well be on my terms.

That's what The Atomic Missiles taught me. And it is in that spirit that we, Stereo Console, launch this blog.

Welcome!

-Lex