by Chris Walter
The guitarist ended up, of all places, in a basement suite next to Chi Pig at Knight and 33rd. By now, Rob Johnson had moved upstairs to the main floor of the same house. “I thought it would be good if we all lived in the same place,” says Marc, although it didn’t really help. SNFU was moving towards dissolution, and the fact that they were sequestered together would not change that. “Rob’s girlfriend felt I shouldn’t be able to park my van in front of the house, so Rob would just come into my apartment and throw my keys at me,” says Marc, who was beginning to bristle at the lack of respect Rob was showing him. The bassist would never have behaved that way in the Epitaph days.
Summer found SNFU on Vancouver Island again. They also hit the BC interior, but stayed away from Edmonton and Calgary, which they mined regularly. Rob was beginning to get steady work in the booming movie industry, and was now working as a video playback assistant. That he and Dave Rees both became film editors is just a crazy coincidence, and even though Dave toiled post-production and Rob worked on the set, the odds that they would join Brent in the film industry were slim indeed. However, Rob’s newfound career did not fit well with SNFU’s plans, and he was starting to have problems juggling both. His desire to keep his spot in the band yet develop his new career would eventually come to a head. The film industry is a notoriously jealous lover that demands total devotion.
In the fall of 2000, Alternative Tentacles released SNFU’s The Ping Pong EP.”The inside joke was that the band spent more time playing ping pong than they did rehearsing, and Matt Warhurst claims he almost never saw the band practice. “The cover [of the EP] was just a photo I took of the ping pong table at the rehearsal spot,” says Muc. The release did not contain any new material, and the five songs on it were merely B-sides from the 1996 FYULABA sessions. Dave Rees expresses disappointment that the band decided to release them. “There are reasons why we didn’t put them on FYULABA,” he says. Not that the material was bad, but it certainly wasn’t new, and it wasn’t the best work SNFU had ever done. The band wouldn’t have saved “Head Smashed in Buffalo Jump” and “Cheap Transistor Radio” for the next record if they’d known that it was still four years down the road. That the album was ever released at all is a miracle.
Winter of ’00 arrived, and with it a new push to record fresh material. The senior band-members agreed that Chris Thompson still didn’t have the chops for the job, which left them with a problem. Luckily, they learned that a seasoned professional Trevor McGregor, was touring with his band Treble Charger and could take a few days off to help. “Trevor was a terrific drummer,” Rob Johnson recalls. “I wish we could have gotten him earlier.” SNFU didn’t know it, but the guys in Treble Charger were fighting amongst themselves, so Trevor was happy to get away and do something else. More incredibly, Simon Head was flying out for a tour with Sum 41, and would be in Vancouver at the same time. Sure enough, Simon and Trevor soon arrived in town, ready to work. The pair wouldn’t make much money from the session, but Trevor respected the band and was happy for the opportunity. Simon, of course, was a friend.
Since money was always an issue, Marc looked around for a label that would be willing to re-release Let’s Get it Right the First Time. SNFU was not locked into a contract with Peter Karroll and Jon Zazula, so the boys were free to do as they pleased with the album. However, the only outfit that showed any interest was Three Days Dead, a tiny independent out of Caerphilly, Wales. Despite various misgivings he had, Marc entered into a contract with Three Days Dead, which was the enterprise of one young guy. Marc received a small advance that would help with recording costs. Not much, but it was better than nothing.
Although the band could scarcely afford such a thing, SNFU entered Mushroom Studios in November to begin work on their seventh studio album. If Chris Thompson felt slighted, he didn’t let it show and watched quietly from the sidelines. The recording went smoothly enough, but the boys didn’t have a great deal of new material. The songs they did have included “Cockatoo Quill,” “Head Smashed in Buffalo Jump,” and “Hole In Your Soul.” One of the songs “What Will it Take to Break You” almost made the cut, but not quite. Muc still has the tape and plans to release it as a 7” at some point in the future. Rob Johnson played bass on five tracks but later asked that his parts be removed. “I wasn’t really into that record,” explains the bass player, who didn’t want to be associated with a project over which he had no control and still hasn’t heard. At any rate, the guys were finished, and they now had a number of decent quality demo tracks to shop around. Maybe they could succeed where Peter Karroll had failed.
When Christmas arrived, Muc, Bunt, and Mina made the annual pilgrimage to Alberta for Christmas, returning home just a bit heavier than they were before they left. Brent went back to school and work, while Marc contemplated his next move with SNFU. Nhaelan’s efforts to find a new home for SNFU had been fruitless, and Fat Wreck Chords had even turned them down. The prevailing attitude seemed to be that SNFU had exceeded their “best before” date, and were no longer viable candidates for punk rock stardom. “We weren’t considered to be a good investment,” says Marc, trying not to sound resentful. He knew that the band still had gas in the tank.
While SNFU wasn’t able to get a deal, they were invited to record several songs for an upcoming punk tribute to Trooper. While such a project might sound very un-punk, the band recorded “We’re Here for a Good Time (Not a Long Time)” by Trooper, and the Circle Jerks’ “Operation” with producer Pete Wonsiak at Mushroom Studios. This would be Chris Thompson’s only recording with the band. “It came out really good, though,” says Muc.
January and February brought the usual rounds of touring in British Columbia and Alberta. Chris Thompson tried his best and difficult to dislike. Although the drummer still wasn’t working full-time in the military, it was amazing that he found time for the band at all. Of course, this was not an ideal situation for SNFU, one that would become increasingly problematic. For now, the boys struggled along the best they could, just like always.
The routine changed a little in early March, when SNFU drove to Seattle and caught a flight to Frankfurt. The boys were happy to have a bus on this tour, but less pleased when they discovered they had to share it with three other bands. “There were twenty guys on that bus. It was ridiculous,” comments Marc. On board with SNFU were the Deviates, Venerea, from Sweden, and Powerhouse from Oakland, California. The headliner Ignite, from Orange County, had their own bus, but were good about sharing the spoils with the other bands. The bands rolled out at once, more travelling circus than rock tour, although not quite as clean or well-mannered.
Moving from city to city, the venues were small but full. The tour was also very chaotic and poorly organized. At some stops, there was no food available for the starving musicians. In Europe, such a thing is akin to having no electricity, and SNFU had never encountered that before. Younger members of the other bands, however, were thrilled just to be in Europe and were having a great time, even without food. For SNFU, the tour represented a giant step backwards, and Marc struggled to maintain a game face. “Again, the writing was on the wall, but I didn’t want to see it,” says the guitarist.
A European outfit advanced SNFU a quantity of shirts, but sales weren’t good and they worried that they would be unable to pay. Pressing on, the tour moved from Germany to France. By now, Muc’s eczema was so bad that he occasionally had to wear bandages on his cracked and bleeding fingers. His body was in full rebellion and wanted to make sure that he got the message.
Tension was high, and the band chemistry suffered serious damage one night in Paris. “I remember Rob yelling at me across the stage, and that’s where things sort of fell apart,” says Marc, reflecting on those difficult times. He also remembers that Rob wasn’t happy with Chris’ drumming, and was having problems holding the rhythm section together. While that may have been true, Rob says he had a good time in general. “It was cool to hang with a bunch of other musicians for a change and not be cooped
up with the same guys you saw every day for years. We didn’t make any money, but I still had fun.”
Chris “Corporal Ninny” Thompson wasn’t having such a great time either, at least not when he began to have problems with a girl he was dating. According to Marc, he spent hours online trying to fix the relationship, and the turmoil of his personal life began to affect the band, magnified no doubt by the cramped living situation. “It was super annoying,” Muc recalls. Touring is notoriously rough on relationships, and many a musician has arrived home only to learn that they were no longer in one.
The circumstances were uncomfortable, and the thirty-date tour seemed as if it would never end. Merch sales were poor. SNFU would have been flat broke if they paid for all the shirts, but the band took them back to Canada and promised to send the money later. “That never happened,” Marc admits ruefully. As it was, the boys barely had cab fare to the airport. Even the first European tour had earned them more money than this one did. The members had hoped that the trip would bring them back together, but the opposite occurred. The future looked bleak.
Particles Fly Apart and then Magically Reunite
The boys took a few days off at home to recuperate, but before long they were skulking around the backcountry again, playing gigs in such far-flung places as Nelson, Medicine Hat, Swift Current, and Lethbridge. Although the shows were fairly decent, Muc remained angry with Rob for his aggressive behaviour in Europe, and tension between the two was mounting. Marc’s issues with Chi Pig weren’t as serious, but the singer made him uncomfortable at times with stage antics that included lying on his back and sticking his thumb up his ass. While Chi would never be in GG Allin territory, there were certain aspects of his stage act that Muc and Rob could live without.
Shows at The Back Alley in Calgary and Reds in Edmonton continued to be wildly successful, exceeding expectations of band and club management alike. “That was somewhat of a mindfuck,” muses Marc. “We’d do great in Edmonton and Calgary, but not so well elsewhere. It encouraged us to keep going, but…” As SNFU was learning, local fame did not necessarily translate into a career that was financially successful.
Chris Thompson’s love life continued to disrupt the band. Late for practice and unable to concentrate, the drummer was driving everyone to distraction. At one point, Marc actually paid the drummer a surprise visit, just to see what the hell was going on. “I’d never done anything like that before,” says Marc, forgetting about the times that he and his fellow bandmembers had dropped in on Chi Pig during his nervous breakdown in ’96. However, Chris can’t be held solely accountable for all the band’s woes, and they still weren’t practicing very regularly. “I don’t know why, but we would stop jamming for a bit now and then, if I remember correctly. Never too long, just a week or two,” says drummer Corporal Ninny. For a group that had once practiced four times a week, this was akin to disbandment.
Speaking of disbandment, the incident that led up to the departure of Rob Johnson started when Muc wanted SNFU to perform at the punk tribute to Trooper in the Commodore Ballroom with a dozen other Vancouver underground bands on Saturday, June 2nd, 2001. Marc was bummed to learn that Rob couldn’t do the show because he needed rent money and had to work on the night in question. Even though Marc wasn’t much of a Trooper fan, the event had garnered some media attention and seemed like it could be fun. Luckily, Matt Warhurst stepped in to play bass, and Brent Belke joined them on second guitar. Muc was glad to do the show, but his enthusiasm did not extend to Trooper’s aloof frontman. “Ra McGuire was a total dick,” Marc recalls. “I said hi to him backstage, but he walked past us like we weren’t even there.”
Nonetheless, SNFU hit the stage to perform six songs, including “Operation” by the Circle Jerks, and Trooper’s “We’re Here for a Good Time.” Even though her own career was going well and she didn’t need the exposure, Bif Naked joined the band onstage for “You Make Me Thick.” “Any and all chances to share the stage with my heroes I took gratefully,” says the humble singer. Matt Warhurst was also stoked to be there, but was careful not to stray from the small area of the stage that Chi Pig had designated for him. “He made it clear that the show wasn’t about me,” laughs the bassist. Matt would not share another stage with SNFU until 2004, but by then he wouldn’t be quite as easy to browbeat.
Later in the week, when Starbuck didn’t get a call for rehearsal, he learned that Matt Warhurst had taken his spot. “It was the classic band move,” laughs Rob. “Rob wasn’t fired,” Marc insists. “He basically just walked away from the band.” After nine years in the trenches with SNFU, from caviar to burgers, Rob ”Starbuck” Johnson was gone.
Although Matt was supposed to replace Rob, the band imploded before they even began to rehearse. Chris Thompson wanted the summer off to deal with personal issues regarding his girlfriend and, when Muc refused, he quit. “I didn’t really think much of it, since I knew they’d probably hire another drummer as quickly as they hired me. It was a little stressful at the time, but mostly I still have fond memories of being in the band,” says Corporal Ninny. Ironically, Chris and his girlfriend broke up a year later, and she eventually married Rob Johnson. Without a rhythm section, the remaining members of SNFU stopped practicing, and the live shows ceased. Essentially, the band no longer existed.
The breakup made Chi Pig very unhappy, and contributed to his increased drug use. Although the frontman was still drinking cough syrup, he was also getting deeper into crystal meth. Chi’s physical appearance continued to change, and where he had once been lean and lithe, the singer was now merely skinny. Sequestered in his basement suite at Knight and 33rd, he rarely saw Marc or Rob, even though they all shared the same house. Together they lived, miles apart.
Around this time, the atmospheric but heavy Ocean 3 also disintegrated due to the usual musical differences. The members of that band were not finished yet, however, and wanted to join or start a new band. Matt Warhurst in particular was chomping at the bit. At age twenty-six, the bass player was from a musical background, even if most family members were smart enough to stay away from the music industry. Born in Sechelt, British Columbia on June 28th, 1975, Matt was the second of three boys. His younger brother was a talented piano player, and his uncle Roy played fiddle with the long-running country group Sons of the Pioneers, who won a Grammy for their soundtrack to the movie Cool Water. Matt’s mother sang with the church choir, but only Matt and Roy ever performed in a professional capacity. Both would learn that, while occasionally gratifying, the life of a musician is fraught with peril.
Matt graduated grade twelve but did not make plans for college. Instead, he took flight instruction and earned a pilot’s licence. Rather than working towards a commercial pilot’s licence, he opted, somewhat bafflingly, for the far less lucrative life of a musician. “I would have had to put music aside totally if I wanted to fly for a living,” says Warhurst. Only twenty-one years old when he moved to Vancouver with several friends in 1996, he found it much easier to get a Class One licence and drive semi-trailers. That way, he could earn more than minimum wage and still have some flexibility in his schedule. Although it wouldn’t happen for a while, he would be able to take time off to tour when needed.
The boys put Ocean 3 together and began to jam, but drummer Ryan McKellar simply wasn’t working out. In a strange twist of fate, a friend named Bina steered Ocean 3 towards a percussionist, and Matt ran into that same musician independently several days later while delivering auto parts. At the time, Matt was driving a semi-trailer for Lordco, and Shane Smith was working at Carpac, so one way or another the pair was destined to meet. In fact, the two recognized each other from Vernon, where Shane’s band had opened for Matt’s band at the Java House Jam. Because of this shared history, Shane gave Matt a demo tape the next time he came in. His inclusion into the band seemed almost preordained.
Sure enough, after jamming several times, Ocean 3 replaced Ryan with Shane Smith. They didn’t even have the decency to break up the band and
reform shortly afterwards with the new line-up. Nonetheless, Ocean 3 soon started to rehearse, and the rhythm section was noticeably tighter. As proponents of alternative metal acts such as Helmet, Tool, and the Deftones, Ocean 3 was definitely not about the punk rock. Rather, they started as a progressive industrial band and slowly made the transition to screamo, featuring brutal metal panoramas that were as lengthy as they were intense. Despite the level of musicianship, the band was floundering, the members unable to agree on a unified sound. This was the end.
In fact, not only did Ocean 3 disintegrate in the summer of 2001, but SNFU also decided to call it a day. The double breakup was depressing, but three members of Ocean 3 soon teamed up with Marc Belke to form Based on a True Story. The new group didn’t even have to find a new practice space or hump gear; they simply rearranged the amplifiers and got to work. “With both bands sitting idle, we decided to get together and jam,” says ex-Ocean 3 guitarist Jay Black. “Our sound, especially my guitar sound, was fairly spacey and heavy. We had something unique going on, and it was fun being a part of it while it lasted.” Ironically, Jay McMann, who first brought Ocean 3 into the orbit of SNFU, was not part of the equation. Marc didn’t need a singer; he just wanted the band.
Since Muc was writing all the material, the music was miles apart from the metallic landscapes favoured by Ocean 3. Songs that Marc hadn’t been able to use for SNFU seemed just right for the new band, even though he made concessions to keep it from sounding like the Wheat Chiefs Mark Two. While Marc kept his favourite elements from the Wheat Chiefs, Jay Black’s distinctive guitar sound gave the band a slightly harder edge. Curious acronym and metal influence notwithstanding, Marc felt that BOATS might appeal to those who felt that SNFU was too “punk.” The guitarist, who was still hoping to reach a broader audience, would not be sticking his thumb up his ass when the band performed live.