I generally avoid using this blog to discuss my crippling obsessive-compulsive disorder. I’m not the type of person that goes looking for sympathy. Today is 3/11 however, and so I think it’s time to air out some of my music-related baggage.
Sure, I flip light switches a couple extra times and count the threads in my bedsheets, but in general, this problem finds its way into my life through pop culture. I’ve seen 10 Things I Hate About You ten times. I’ve read A Tale of Two Cities twice (one was the best of times, the other was the worst of times). But over all else, the placement of a number in a band or musician’s moniker has long been the bane of my sad existence.
I’ve been to see U2 live in concert twice. I saw Sum-41 forty-one times. I experienced just under 40% of a .38 Special concert. Was it special? Let me put it this way: no. And that kept me up all night. I can’t listen to the Rush album 2112 for another 97 years, so I’m praying I stay healthy and that the world doesn’t end before then, because I’ve heard it’s good.
But over all else, the band that has cost me just under $10,000—for maybe three enjoyable shows and 308 awful Kafka-esque repetitive experiences—would be no surprise here. 311.
It takes a while to rack up three hundred and eleven shows with any band. For better or for much, much worse, I’ve seen 311 at every stage of their career. Sure, “Down” and “All Mixed Up” are okay songs. But do you think the proto rap-rock band actually got better with time? You tell me after you listen to the their cover of The Cure’s “Love Song” from the 50 First Dates soundtrack (a movie that doesn’t deserve to be watched, let alone fifty times). Now imagine the deep tracks at that stage of their career.
What was the “deal” with the rise of numbered names in the 90s? As an expression of art and emotion, you’d think priority would be in distinguishing your alt-rap-core project from a balance sheet.
For the longest time I felt they had no idea what they were doing to me. But after I sat through my 180th live listening of “Amber,” I wondered if maybe they did know. All it takes is for someone with my level of OCD (there are literally a baker’s dozen of us) to see “Come Original” live once and we know the fate to which we are resigned. Why is the number so high? Snopes will tell you:
“311 is an Omaha police code for indecent exposure. One rainy day, P-Nut and some friends went skinny dipping in a public pool. They were apprehended by police. One of P-Nut’s friends (Jim Watson) was arrested, cuffed (naked) and taken home to his parents. He was issued a citation for a code 311 (indecent exposure). We thought this was funny, so we took it as our band name. After the humor of the name wore off, we still kept it because we liked that it was just abstract and that it did not define us in anyway. The name did not describe our sound or our politics, it just let the music speak for itself.”
So it’s a simple case of an inside joke that ingrained itself into the band. But it’s still excessive to me. In comparison, Blink-182 seem downright generous using the amount of times Al Pacino says “fuck” in Scarface, even when you add the 44 +44 shows I had to attend afterward. There’s only so long you can go through life blinded by the glitz and glamour of the Warped Tour. But what could I do? I was just some guy, and one with a handicap at that. But now that I have achieved the sanctified and universally respected title of “music blogger,” I decided it was time to hunt down some answers. You might not know whether “down” was a pun in that sentence. It was.
I sent the following e-mail to 311’s management, requesting a phone interview:
They never got back to me, which could be the result of a guilty conscience, or maybe their spam filter catching the e-mail after I sent it 311 times within the span of a minute or two.
If at this point you’re wondering if that typo at the bottom “keep up great work” bothers me, then I need to once again stress that this is clearly a number-and-pop-culture-based-OCD sort of thing. It bothers me a little.
But really I can’t feel anything about 311 not responding. It’s a moot point. I’m free of their curse. And Eiffel 65’s and Matchbox 20’s, I’ve seen what bands I’ve needed to see, and I came out of it with heartfelt respect for One Direction and One Republic. I will not be defined by numbers any more. I’ve learned to avoid bands who don’t come original enough to have a unique moniker–what I don’t start doesn’t need to be finished. But I’ll be a son of a gun if I don’t have to rewatch 50 Shades of Grey 7 more times before I can sleep.
“I love the part about P-Nut. I had no idea they actually had a member with a name like that. But of course! Of course they do!” -My Editor, Mo Kelly