By Justine ReisingerPLAY Writer
Just in case there was any question, the lead vocalist and pianist of the raucous experimental band Man Man doesn’t care about image. “Hopefully we don’t have any inhibitions (when performing),” Honus Honus says. “We don’t care about looking cool while we’re playing. People coming to the show shouldn’t worry about that stuff either.”
But before he can finish explaining how little the band worries about image, a new, shrill voice interrupts the phone interview.
“Some crazy person just yelled at me,” Honus Honus interjects. “I’m in Philly right now, and I’m going out to some bars.”
For a band known for performing in all-white tennis outfits and war paint, giving an interview on the streets of Philadelphia – while avoiding misdirected cabs on one-way streets and lamenting over friends not getting into a bar – hardly seems a stretch. Honus Honus says at least three times “we’re crazy, man,” with a voice often dripping with sarcasm.
The band, which is playing in the Louis Room at Norris on Friday night, released The Man in a Blue Turban With a Face (Ace Fu) in 2004 and followed with Six Demon Bag (Ace Fu) two years later. The records carry a slightly creepy carnival vibe. Man Man plans to record an album in Chicago in the next two weeks, with songs that will “jump all over” thanks to the latest member lineup, which has been consistent for more than a year.
“Some of it is extremely aggressive, some is really mellow, some is super dance tunes,” drummer Pow Pow says in a slightly more subdued, indoors conversation, adding that the record will also have a “pop-y” feel. “There will be elements of that, no matter how creepy or crazy the shit is,” he says.
Eccentricities of the band, such as the outfits and member names (don’t forget Cougar, Sergei Sogay and Chang Wang) are backed by sardonic rationale.
“I wish more people would ask Bono why the fuck he has a stupid name,” Honus Honus says.
Full disclosure, though, about why the band sports wacky wear during their shows: The tennis whites relate to the amount the band perspires during shows, and they direct attention toward the music.
“(The outfits) were just to focus people on the music and what we’re doing, not so much on what we’re wearing,” Honus Honus says. “Also, we sweat a lot. When you’re all sweaty or nasty, you don’t want to wear all gray. It looks gross. We don’t want to wear all black because we’re not emo.”
Man Man’s shows play like one giant song. The band doesn’t speak to the crowd between songs and refuses to play sentimental gems, such as “Van Helsing Boombox,” if it will bring down the energy.
“It’s just a matter of how it would work for the vibe of the evening, you know?” Pow Pow says. “If everyone is really freaking out and fucking partying hard and flipping out, sometimes playing something like ‘Van Helsing Boombox’ just doesn’t work. It would work, but we’d rather go out on a total bang. Fireworks.”
Man Man, whose only other show so far this year contained a high number of young teens, is looking for more range in their audience now.
“Our last show was amazing. I’d say the demographic was 12- to 15- year-olds. Kids like 14, shirts off, stage diving. It was totally awesome because it felt like they were the siblings of people that originally got turned on to us,” Honus Honus says. “I want to see more really, really old people at the show. We don’t get the geriatric crowd, just cute girls and cute guys.”
Medill sophomore Justine Reisinger is a PLAY writer. She can be reached at [email protected].
