The Fuxedos

The Fuxedos

 Los Angeles, California, USA
BandRockComedy

THE FUXEDOS are America's favorite apocalyptic comedy-lounge-punk-jazz-storytelling-cinematic-what-the-hell?-art rock band, complete with costumes, props, and bizarrely humorous theatrics.

Biography

"The Fuxedos are one of the most amazing, entertaining, enthralling, unique, hilarious and inspirational bands I have ever seen...[vocalist] Danny was a musical maniac onstage, donning masks, using crazy props, dancing up an astounding storm, singing dynamically, stomping, prancing, being riotously funny and crazed and mindblowing."

-- Paul Zollo, Sr. Editor, American Songwriter magazine; author, "Conversations with Tom Petty" and "Songwriters on Songwriting"

***

Members' touring credits include such bands and acts as Les Claypool, Faun Fables, Coheed & Cambria, Idiot Flesh, and Cirque du Soleil. They've also individually recorded or performed with everyone from Erykah Badu to Eric Clapton and from the Silversun Pickups to The Game, and have appeared not only on the Guitar Hero and Rock Band game series, but also on Hans Zimmer's score to "The Dark Knight."

Their eponymous debut CD features mixing by Steve "Steve B" Baughman, whose credits include 50 Cent, Michael Jackson, and Eminem; and mastering by Dylan "3-D" Dresdow, who's worked with everyone from the Black Eyed Peas to U2 to the Wu-Tang Clan.

Meanwhile, The Fuxedos have been gaining notice and blowing minds through the power of their unusual live performances. The band's sound and stage show are unique and defy easy categorization, but the result is an innovative, high-energy, theatrical, and hilarious show, underscored by creative, eclectic, and freakishly tight musicianship.

Performances include appearances on Comedy Central and the legendary Dr. Demento's recent web series, as well as live shows at Spaceland (where they held their sold-out CD release show) and the Echo in LA; Tonic in NYC; Toronto's Now Lounge; the Casbah in San Diego; and the DNA Lounge, Hemlock Tavern, and Elbo Room in San Francisco.

They've headlined the Silver Lake Film Festival's closing night gala in LA and Karla LaVey's Devil's Valentine's Ball in San Francisco, and have shared bills with acts as diverse as Devo's Mark Mothersbaugh, L7's Donita Sparks, industrial pioneers Nitzer Ebb, avant-metallers Sleepytime Gorilla Museum, and comedian Neil Hamburger.

***

“...The tremendously talented and insane band, The Fuxedos...their live shows combine brilliance and chaos with almost hallucinatory visual stimulation...always an adventure...”
-- Keyboard Magazine

“A band that should appeal to Zappa fans everywhere (but has its own irreverent style)…many thanks for the great CD.”
-- Dr. Demento

“They were STUNNING! Highest-class musicianship (think Frank Zappa band at its tightest) and insanely charismatic frontman Danny (and a great singer at that). I bought their cd and listened to it for several days in a row...they will blow ANY festival crowd away!”
-- Vlad Oboronko (Manager, Huun Huur Tu)

Lyrics

Scooby Doo (and Scrappy Live Inside My Milkshake)

Written By: Danny Shorago

Divine Canine
Come forth
Ride North
The beings of night will tremble in fright
May thine eyes shine vengeful light!
Your children meddle with villainy,
Emerging from machines of mystery,
As facades of horror, they weaken and crumble
And rapacious wretches – they falter and stumble
Evil doth perish in your golden sight
The ultimate doer of right
You rule your domain with a fist of unearthly might!

Scooby Doo looks just like Scrappy,
Only Scooby's Bigger

Scooby Doo and Scrappy live inside my milkshake,
They whisper to me that there'll be an earthquake.
But when I press them,
They refuse to tell me any other things.
They thumb their nose at me,
While Scrappy, that obnoxious fucker sings,
"We'll never ever tell you, stupid man,
Of what the future brings,
You'll never know
Where you may go,
Of friend or foe,
Or mortal blow,
You'll never see beyond your present, man."

Scooby Doo and Scrappy live inside my lunchbox,
They speak of epidemics -- AIDS and smallpox.
But when I press them, they go mute--
They just clam up and go to sleep.
They telepathically mock me,
While their slumber rages deep.
They send me evil thoughts
While, simultaneously, they count their sheep.
I know those cartoon dogs they keep
The mystery, silent — not a peep
Of what remains, what lies in
Store for me.

Scooby Doo and Scrappy live inside my folders,
They tell me that I might be crushed by boulders.
But when I press them, they go limp,
And hide away inside their shells.
Though they both know, they have an oath --
They've sworn that neither ever tells.
And though they smolder, evermore,
Inside their private little hells,
They'll never say,
Although they play
With me all day,
Won't go away,
Persist and bray --
They're driving me insane.

Scooby Doo looks just like Scrappy,
Only Scooby's Bigger…

The Cow/Boy

Written By: Danny Shorago

This here's a story about a half-cow, half-human boy.
Shunned from both the bovine and the human worlds,
He wanders the globe, in search of himself.
After years of contemplation,
High up in the Himalayan Mountains of India,
He realizes that he has no choice,
But to return to the world, as...
The Cow/Boy!

Don't point,
And whisper to your mother,
'Bout the brother's udders.
Don't point,
And chuckle with your friends about The Cow/Boy.

He's The Cow/Boy,
And he's fighting for you and me.
And he'll stop the beef and dairy industry!
He's The Cow/Boy.

Here he comes to save the day,
Fighting crime in every way,
Tail that's cracking like a whip,
He's a cow you'll never tip,
Don't you worry, don't despair,
He can show up anywhere,
Here he comes to save the day!

Armed with his magic udders,
His endless supply of stomachs,
And his unwavering passion for justice,
The Cow/Boy--
With the help of his masticatable sidekick, Cud-ly--
Battles to save the world from the forces of evil!

Here he comes to save the day!
He's The Cow/Boy!

Robot Vampire Wombats

Written By: Steve Lew

Vampire wombats, vampire wombats,
Robot Vampire wombats!

They don't want to hurt you,
They're really quite friendly!
(Robot Vampire wombats)
Although they be undead,
They're really quite friendly.
(Robot Vampire wombats)
When their batteries run low,
They get kinda' grouchy.
(Robot Vampire wombats)
Just give them some cow's blood,
And they'll be your best friend!
(Robot Vampire wombats)

Vampire wombats, vampire wombats,
Robot Vampire wombats!

The first time I met one,
I was in Poughkeepsie.
(Robot Vampire wombats)
He brought me a sandwich,
And got me quite tipsy.
(Robot Vampire wombats)
We went to the ER,
And got him some plasma.
(Robot Vampire wombats)
He slurped it, and burped it,
And now he's my best friend!
(Robot Vampire wombats)

Vampire wombats, vampire wombats,
Robot Vampire wombats!

Night of the Cephalopod

Written By: Danny Shorago

Allow me to introduce myself – the name is Smith. I'm a private eye.

And while I can tell you that, what I can't tell you is what I was doing on this dark, rainy street, on the wrong side of the tracks. And I *especially* can't tell you what that giant octopus was doing in the street in front of me, and wearing a fedora, at that. Sure, the streets were wet. But a giant sea creature here on land, and in this part of town? It didn't add up.

You don't ask questions when a massive mollusk comes toward you, its breath reeking of squid. Now I usually like squid when I'm sitting in a Japanese restaurant. But here on this dark, lonely street, its titanic tentacles gripping my throat, I was not so much in the mood for said aroma.

"You better come with me. The Boss wants to see you," he said.

Now when an oversized cephalopod grabs you and beckons you to go see the Boss, you comply.

Well there we was, in a darkened warehouse space, the gargantuan mollusk in the corner. And I came face to face with the Big Man. Now you don't wanna' see the Boss under any circumstances, you dig? Under any circumstances. But especially not with an immense octopus in the room eyeing you menacingly, and breathing the odor of inky invertebrates in your general direction.

Good thing I had a pouch of Big League Chew in my pocket. Everybody loves Big League Chew. I took a big handful and stuffed it in the gullet of the octopus, right underneath his beak. And as he began to chew the bubble gum, pink bubbles started emanating not only from his mouth, but also from the suction cups on his tentacles. He blew up like a giant, pink balloon and floated higher, higher out of a hole in the ceiling, and off to the Moon.

So it was just me and the Boss. And I realized right then and there that with his protection gone, the Boss was a mere puppet. Now when I say "puppet," I'm not being figurative – I'm being literal.

A marionette puppet.

Craning my neck upward toward the shadows, I spied on the rafter above a tiny mouse holding the strings of the marionette. Luckily, I had a rubber band in my back pocket. I pulled it out and shot it ceilingward at the solar plexus of the rodent, who plummeted to his dusty demise on the floor at my feet. He looked up, breathing his last gaspy breaths, and said,

"Avoid a life of crime – and stay in school!"

When a dying puppeteer mouse tells you to do that, you heed his words. I matriculated at Ohio State, got a Masters in Library Science, and the rest, as they say, is history. So tell me, bub – do you wanna' pay your library fines now, or later? Eventually, you gotta' pay. We all gotta' pay…

©2009 by Danny Shorago/Glazed Yams, Inc.

My Three Nuns

Written By: Danny Shorago

Three nuns, smoking cigars and playing Strip Keno. The sisters all possess horrific birthmarks that resemble Shecky Greene. The nuns grow tired of the game. They whip out nunchuks, throwing stars, and cyanide-laced kosher dills, and begin an elaborate, intricately choreographed, and highly fluid circular square dance in slow-motion -- a sort of grand Sumo prancing through molasses, a perimetrical pinwheel promenade on Percodan.

All at once, the nuns cease their movements, drop their equipment, and run head first toward a central point. They collide violently, precisely: each nun absorbs the blow equally, at an identical spot on her skull. The collision is an utterly chance, yet geometrically perfect event.

Suddenly, strange things begin to happen. The earth begins to shake, the trees swirl like merry-go-rounds, sparrows begin to attend the U.S. Army's School of the Americas in Fort Benning, Georgia, to receive instruction in surveillance, interrogation, torture, intimidation, and assassination.

Meanwhile, the nuns' scalps have fused together. The sturdiest of the three slowly pulls her head back, raising the other two into the air, creating a beautiful black and white "Y".

Also meanwhile, a class of first graders on a field trip in a nearby meadow spot the nuns, and run to their teacher, informing her that they've found the next letter in their "Find the Alphabet on the License Plates" game, which they played on the bus ride over.

The teacher removes her hair pins, shakes out her glorious auburn mane, points Delacroix-ly towards the nuns, and shouts valiantly, in a flawless execution of a Lakota/Serbo-Croatian hybrid dialect found only in the southeastern suburbs of mid-1980's Cleveland -- a time in which men were men, and women were women, and women were men, and men were men and women, and children were eggbeaters, and men and women were also eggbeaters, but a different kind of streamlined, kinetic, Boccione-esque Futurist sort of eggbeater --

“Seize the moment, young knaves of the Microsoft generation! Oh little cyberlings, this is your moment of Supreme Cosmic Redemption!”

Whereupon the children, whooping and hollering, screaming and salivating, tear off toward the nuns like amped-up little psychotic lemmings, descending in a horde upon the nuns with all their terrible savage Osh-Kosh might, leaping and tearing at their throats. The Nun Triad base sister swings her mighty head neck shoulders about, scattering children like sweat off a boxer's hammered face, but to no avail! There are simply too many children...

© 2009, Danny Shorago/Glazed Yams, Inc.

Discography

Eponymous debut CD released Summer 2009.

Set List

The Fuxedos have played sets as short as 20 minutes, and as long as 100 minutes (although 45 - 60 minutes is more typical). Originals include such titles as "Robot Vampire Wombats", "Fuck Disneyland!", "My Three Nuns", and "Scooby Doo (And Scrappy Live Inside My Milkshake)." The occasional cover includes such perennial faves as "I Put A Spell On You" by Screamin' Jay Hawkins; the band's heavy, ominous version of Bob Dylan's "Masters of War"; their klezmer/prog arrangement of Leonard Cohen's apocalyptic "The Future"; and their radically deconstructed, genre mashed-up version of the Beatles' "I Want to Hold Your Hand."