Clint gets Mad as Faust with Zen Frisbee

In 1994, Zen Frisbee released I'm As Mad As Faust, their first full-length album on the band's own Flavor-Contra Records.

Featuring cuts like "Crazy Steven" and "Marsha Don't Play In The Fire," the record also featured Clint on drums. Having already honed his skills on the skins with Kung Fu Fighting and the Anubis Leisure Society, by the time he joined Zen Frisbee (becoming the latest in a series of replacements for original ZF drummer and Superchunk namesake Chuck "Chunk" Garrison), Clint's drumming was tight, as evidenced by the tracks on this album.

In fact, some believe it's the greatest unheralded indie rock record of its era.

During the heady days of the Chapel Hill, NC music scene in the early '90s, bands like Superchunk, Archers of Loaf and Ben Folds Five made their way out of the clubs on Franklin Street and into the national spotlight. Zen Frisbee was one of the bands to miss the glare of the music business' eye, and has gone relatively unnoticed even amongst the indie-rock intelligentsia (for proof, try finding the band in the Trouser Press Guide). What a shame. The Frisbee was (and is) perhaps the area's best live band, and this, their debut album, is one of the '90's most criminally overlooked albums. The band creates a mesmerizing blend of breezy songwriting, Fallesque controlled musical mayhem, countrified rave-ups, and searing funk that never falls for the cocky panderings of the Red Hot Chili Peppers. Guitarist Laird Dixon (who also plays in the excellent instrumental combo Shark Quest) is one of the area's most inventive players and the lead singer (whose name escapes me, sorry!) is a dynamic performer and inspired vocalist. "Fraidy Cat" may be the best song released by any Triangle band, and "Clothes," "Crazy Stephen," and others follow a similar REM-inspired songwriting sensibility that is always wholly original. "Martha Don't Play in the Fire" moves with a steady fury--as fierce and wondrous an opener as can be found anywhere. "Cruising With Randy Travis" is simply a blast. A brilliant album indie-rock fans will cherish as a seceret treasure. It deserves to be so much more.

- Anonymous Amazon Customer, 1999

Bottom line, Zen Frisbee should have been a lot bigger than they were. Here's a rundown on ZF's history. And this look back by Ross Grady sheds a little light on why they never caught fire outside of the Triangle:

Zen Frisbee were the quintessential Chapel Hill band, whatever that means. In addition to "I'm as Mad as Faust," there's a singles/b-sides compilation called "Eat at the Burrito Bunker" and a somewhat mysterious release of material by an early/different lineup called something like "10 million years BC." (As far as I can recall, all the material from their various 7"s are included on the Burrito Bunker CD, so it's pretty crucial, as those early singles were most excellent).

They were notorious around town for many things, including the perhaps predictable tardiness, sloppyness and general slackness that concealed their underlying musical genius from anybody unwilling to stick around for the second half of their set, when they'd finally get to firing on all cylinders & would transform into a mesmerizing rockband, fueled equally by the intricate guitar lines of brothers Laird & Kevin Dixon, and by the hypnotic sleaze of frontman Brian Walker's voice.

ZF were also notorious for their Halloween show which involved the members of the band wearing actual flaming pumpkins on their heads.

Guitarist Laird Dixon joined Shark Quest towards the end of Zen Frisbee's lifespan, and you can definitely recognize his guitar playing in both bands.

Laird's brother Kevin is currently playing in a Chapel Hill band called Bringerer, with sometime ZF bassist Shawn Albert, and ex-Pipe frontman Ron Liberti. Kevin is also working on a seemingly endless weekly comic called "And Then There Was Rock" for the Independent Weekly in Durham, which chronicles the long slow rise of Zen Frisbee in a lightly fictionalized manner.

- Ross Grady, 2006

Bill T. Jones/Arnie Zane Dance Company at ADF

Execution of Justice at Manbites Dog Theater

Cole Street

Lem, Dawad, and Derek Elliott set up their own post-Pink House crash pad on Cole Street during the spring of '94, in the shadow of UNC's Cameron Avenue power plant. The apartment was one half of a duplex, the other side rented by Charles McNair and Denise Matthewson. Meredith Smith lived down the street in a hipster bungalow with some musician she was dating, and Cole Street quickly became another stopping point on the Pink House legacy tour. It was on the couches of Cole Street that our jaws dropped as every TV station broke into live coverage of O.J. Simpson's infamous Ford Bronco chase on June 17.



All year long, Cole Street was the spot to be. Countless jams packed the place to capacity, and Pez's reputation as a DJ reached lofty heights. The vibe was strong, and Jungle Juice flowed freely. Other heads including Cherryl Aldave moved in and out. Lem left for a more secluded lifestyle living with his girlfriend Ebony. Derek eventually decamped for his own bachelor's lair in the back of a stately home near UNC Hospitals. At the time, N'Gai was traveling in Japan, Thailand, and other Far East destinations. When he returned to Chapel Hill in early '95, he moved in, too.

Jyoti was struck with a bolt of dirty head

Everybody pursuing their own destinies

It is Tuesday, June 14, and I am staring at a huge pile of your mail that has been collecting in our house for God knows how long, probably since the last time I sent you your unforwarded mail. Wow. I assume your first year at Harvard has gone really well, since knowing you, you're astounding everyone with your talent and intelligence. As for myself, I graduated last month, hon! I snuck through right under the wire, but I'm finally done and I'm psyched as a motherfucker. In another month I'll be moving out of the Pink House...the end of an era...and in with Jenny, who since late April has been my fiancee! Yay! So I'm engaged now, too. Seems kind of unreal.

Jay Murray will still be here, the only one left from our year together, working to finish his Masters. Then he plans to complete his PhD, but maybe he'll get tired of living with undergrads by that point. Jay also recently cut his hair off - equally big life adjustment. Oh yeah, Scott Bullock is now living with us and will also still be here next year - Jay's friend from Duke who liked to sleep on our couch. He also just graduated.


Firas, N'Gai, Erik, Jay, Pat, Scott, Kyle, Caroline, Michael, and Lydia outside El Rodeo, Spring '93

I haven't talked to Kyle in nearly a year, so tell her I said what's up. Even though Michael now lives around the damn corner from us, I've probably seen him twice all year. I've hung out with Pat several times, though, until he left to tour Tibet a while ago. Lydia is in Australia now, living with her aunt, working, enjoying herself. Her address is... N'Gai Wright is doing some intrepid traveling in Japan, of all places! He was supposedly staying with Dai for a while, the kid who crashed with us for a couple of weeks last spring. But I haven't spoken to him in a month, so I hope he's not buried. Before that N'Gai was working in New York City all this past year.

I still see Michelle Sinott around town, though - her boyfriend got out of the Marines and they're living together now. Remember Lem? He's finishing school next year, but for the past six months has been spending lots of time being a mega party host and DJ at happening Pink House functions and various other locations around town. Do you ever see Erika Gantt in Cambridge? She and Dana are living together in an apartment in downtown Boston for the summer starting June 19 while Dana works at a law firm.

Looks like everybody's pursuing their own destinies, huh. I am currently deciding whether or not to do grass roots fundraising work for SEAC or work for NC-NARAL until I can begin to fundraise for my own voter registration/grassroots media projects. I will be living, working and organizing in North Carolina (and maybe Virginia, to try and stop bastards like Oliver North) for at least the next three years, while Jenny attends law school. I wish you all the best with everything, and maybe we'll see each other in Boston sometime. Take care of yourself, follow your dreams, be free...

- Letter to Caroline Hall

Pine State at Papagayo's

alt.music.chapel-hill, 6-6-94

From: ri...@gibbs.oit.unc.edu (Christopher M. Riser)
Newsgroups: alt.music.chapel-hill
Subject: HYPE
Date: 6 Jun 1994 16:41:56 -0000
Organization: Chapel Hill Music Lovers

BEWARE: THIS IS SELF-SERVING HYPE!!

PINE STATE AND LIMA ARE PLAYING ON WED. JUNE 8TH AT PAPAGAYO'S IN CHAPEL
HILL. PINE STATE = OVER-THE-TOP COUNTRY. LIMA = OVER-THE-TOP ROCK.
ONLY TWO BUCKS. SHOW STARTS AROUND 11PM. PINE STATE WILL PROBABLY PLAY
FIRST, BECAUSE A LIMA OR TWO HAVE TO WORK LATE, I THINK.

I AM CHRIS RISER AND I AM A MEMBER OF PINE STATE. I WROTE THIS.

Pine State...TRUTH or HYPE?

alt.music.chapel-hill, 6/7/94

From: wxys...@gibbs.oit.unc.edu (Christopher Riser)
Newsgroups: alt.music.chapel-hill
Subject: Pine State stuff
Date: 7 Jun 1994 23:30:10 -0000
Organization: Chapel Hill Music Lovers

WARNING!! THIS MAY BE CONSIDERED
HYPE BY SOME READERS

Someone wanted to know about buying a Pine State tape?? Guess that was
before I signed on. Well, if you want one, just send me two bucks and a
blank 60-minute tape and I'll slap some songs on there for you and mail it
back. May even be able to send you a videotape if you're interested. The
taped show was a Pine State classic drunken bash complete with blackeyed
peas, collard greens, fucked-up songs, obscenities and taunting matches,
and our first-ever totally unrehearsed (well, everything we do is totally
unrehearsed - we've never practiced as a full band before - provides that
important spark of spontaneity, dontcha know) set closer "Up Against the
Wall Redneck Mother."

C. Wiley Riser
Pine State conspirator

A respectable bunch of Pink Housemates

At Erik and Jenny's graduation party, Eloise's house.

Laverne makes the Pink House scene

We celebrated by going on a free stuff tour

5/11/94. Wednesday.

First things first. Chillin' the night before with Mel, Martha, Scott, Jay, Christy, Erik the chinese food delivery guy, Caroline, Steve and Fred. Went to sleep around 7 am after I started re-organizing my room. I woke up around 10:50 and called Caroline. Rescheduled our Internet meeting for tomorrow at 11 am, then went downstairs and woke up Martha and Mel. Yay! Took Martha home, then Mel and I went and picked up my grade change form. Then I turned that fucker in! Officially graduated!

We celebrated by going on a free stuff tour all over town, mostly in Carrboro, for what seemed like an amazing four hours. Stops included the hardware store and every apartment complex in the vicinity. The killer joint was definitely Bolinwood. Free stuff was ubiquitous there, including a wig box and a new grill. Tried to go see Mel's new dog Laverne at the pound but couldn't. Took a long power nap in the afternoon (three hours) then got up and started cleaning the house.

Chillin. Very little food today. I am still very hungry. Martha came over again, plus Matt Schofield, Steve, Mel, Jay, Scott and myself watched the third part of The Stand. Jenny came back tonight. I am happy but I have so much to do.

- journal entry, 5/12/94 1:09 am

(Note from 2009 - this was written a few days before graduation weekend 1994. Counting down the final months of my stay in the Pink House.)

B-GLAD presents Primal Rave: The Legend Continues

Designed by Steve William.

Tokyo beckons, and new paths to explore

Have you left New York yet? I hope this gets to you before the weekend. Exactly one week to go before my last day of classes at Carolina. Wow. The concept is deep.

So your time in the city has come to an end. Tokyo beckons, and new paths to explore. Instinctive travels are just around the corner, after a short trip to Indiana, I guess. For me, it's best anyway that you couldn't come down. Distractions are already ubiquitous, constantly watching for moments when I let down my guard. Lem, on the other hand, definitely wanted to see you. Oh well, sooner or later the crew will reconvene, perhaps learning to play their individual instruments in the meanwhile. The clarinet will be located after May 15th.

Here I am rushing this letter off because I wanted to give you a copy of my grant proposal. It outlines the sort of non-profit structure I'll create this summer. Got to have something to fundraise around. I'm applying for funds from both the Mary Babcock and Z. Smith Reynolds foundations, and looking for more dollars everywhere.

Both Charles McNair and Denise Matthewson are working for Community Self-Help in Durham. CSH fixed up that building in very styley fashion. I told you about going to the From The Hip opening. It was kind of sad, but still cool. This little community of twenty-something do-gooders has really developed over there. By the way, I think Ian Williams wrote a cover article in The Washington Monthly this week. Rush out and buy a copy. There's this one particularly positive woman in the office next to Chuck involved with some new group called S.E.E.D.S., some business about planting urban gardens, and she is so fine! She was giving me the eye the whole time.

Two a.m. is chillin' on the clock, and I'm surrounded by half a dozen supreme buzzkilling assignments to create for school. I'm so focused I've even given up music lately. But free deliveries of beautiful jazz CD's arrive weekly from BMG and Columbia House. Mostly addressed to motherfuckers I didn't even know lived in the Pink House. It's probably those damn raccoons.

Enjoy Tokyo, take care, and give a positive shout to my main man Daisuke. Send me a postcard with your new address when you get situated.

- Letter to N'Gai in NYC

Rave Your Head benefit party for SCALE

What's up down here on Tobacco Road

Whassup, cat. This is a diatribe coming to you straight out of Chapel Hill, North Carolina, home of that graduating motherfucker himself. How's life in the Apple treating you?

Right now we're looking at 'round about 2 am, chillin' with a new Bob Marley CD that arrived today courtesy of those ignorant imbeciles at Columbia House who seem to have no problems sending hundreds of dollars of free merchandise out to imaginary individuals. I'm procrastinating doing real work, like writing one of the ten papers I need to finish in the next month in order to graduate with two majors. I'm also putting off going to the copy store to work on a flyer for this benefit keg/rave we're throwing here at the Pink House next Saturday. Hundreds of drunk people destroying their brain cells in order to benefit a local literacy education project - makes sense! So it's a perfect time to write you a letter.

...

Let's see, what's up down here on Tobacco Road. Are you a big basketball fan, Robb? I hate sports in a general, ideological sense, but b-ball is so ubiquitous here that it's hard not to caught up in this March Madness bullshit. So, I'll admit it, I have been known to actually watch short stretches of particularly decent games. On TV, of course. I've been to exactly one home game since I've been down here. It was my junior year. We were playing Florida A&M, and the game before the one I went to, a brawl had erupted on court. One of their players actually stepped on another player's head. So I was like, cool! Let's check this shit out. But nobody even got elbowed.

This year the Heels got eliminated from the tournament right away. People were walking around like somebody had stolen all their comic books or something. There were positive and negative sides to this development. On the positive side, people weren't out mobbing the streets every night a game was on, fucking with me whenever
I wanted to drive somewhere around town. On the negative tip, it meant that all these basketball yahoos who would normally have been holed up in bars drinking beer were clogging up the libraries, cafeterias, and other places on campus where there are already far too many motherfuckers to begin with. Oh well.

...

I saw this cool play on campus recently called Life As Art: A Tribute to Paul Green. He was a Chapel Hill playwright who essentially set up my school's drama department. Have you heard of In Abraham's Bosom? This was the play he wrote about race relations that won a Pulitzer prize in 1927. Check out a copy of the script. It was incredibly hard-hitting for its time, especially for the South. Green also worked with Richard Wright to adapt Native Son for the stage in the 1940s.

Right before Easter, it was my birthday. I had a phat time, since my friends organized a little birthday get together for me at our house. Folks were stopping by all evening, bearing gifts.


My housemates baked me a cake, and one of my really good friends down here took me out to dinner. Her name is Jyoti (pronounced Jo-thee), she's a dancer, and a speech communications major. We're going to be working on business and activist projects together this summer. One of the profit-making ones will be a local ice cream delivery service. I'm also going to try and open up a Chapel Hill nightclub as a business partner with my housemate Steve, who's from the Bahamas.

On the non-profit end, I'm applying for grants to fund some grassroots democracy projects. I've enclosed a copy of one of my grant proposal project descriptions for you to check out.

...

I heard from Tony on my birthday. He was trying to come down here for his spring break (his perpetual quest for the past three years), but things didn't pan out. So he claims he'll make it down for my graduation in mid-May. Well, I won't be moving into condo land until mid-July. Until then, the Pink House remains the spacious crash pad of choice for any friends seeking to escape Northern landscapes. Don't know if you planned to get out of New York for a road trip any time soon.

- Letter to Robb

Happy Easter from Mel

Was the Pink House haunted?

I remember when we all went down to the basement and tried to freak each other out. We were in a supernatural phase. I had found that bottle of old scotch stuck in between the dirt and the foundation - I'm pretty sure we drank it. Anyway, there we are in the dark, and suddenly Steve yells out "Oh my God, I smell raw chicken!" and busts out of there. Interesting how cultures have their ghostly warnings - I guess the islands lean toward the raw chicken smell.


Truly, though, a couple of times I heard noise downstairs when no one was home. Once sounded like furniture being moved, and another like someone scrambling in the ice in the freezer. Sally and I got inspired and tried to make everyone think the house was haunted by doing things on our own, but no one really cared. We had fun, though!

- Mel Keister (Lanham)