Proudly independent and protective of their identities -- a combination that's allowed the band members to liberate themselves from what they see as a tyranny of identity -- the Residents, who play a series of four dates at the Fillmore this week, created their own Ralph Records to release their work and something called the Cryptic Corp. to act as a liaison to the public. It's all kind of ridiculous.
It's an ethic that has infected music in the Bay Area for the past two decades; precisely, the Residents are why music in San Francisco is weird. Here, the Residents practically invented artistic self-sufficiency, uncompromising musical experimentation, and -- yes -- costume rock. Because the Residents refuse to talk about what amounts to a quarter-century legacy, I asked local musicians and a few Residents aficionados to do it for them.
Nils Frykdahl (Idiot Flesh singer/guitarist): [The Residents go] beyond the personal. There is a whole idea of music continually reinventing itself, but it's done always through individual people and the emphasis on rock performers, on their individuality, on them revealing their world and who they really are. The Residents present an alternative to that approach.
Gino Robair (Club Foot Orchestra percussionist/theremin player): They're one of the most successful do-it-yourself groups. They are one of the first groups to start their own label and manage their own career from the bottom up and do it very successfully. They started with absolutely nothing ... and they have become world famous and world-class musicians. This was before punk, so they really didn't have people to follow. The lesson that I learned from them is that, no matter how weird people think your music is, you can get it to the ears of those who need to hear it.
Paul Mavrides (artist): I remember I was walking past a record store in Berkeley and there was a window display for Third Reich 'n Roll. I looked at the album cover and bought it without knowing anything about the band. I wasn't disappointed by the contents: They matched the packaging and then went past it.
Joe Gore (S.F. guitarist): They mutilated the record cover of Meet the Beatles [Meet the Residents] and then they had that cover with the Nazi imagery, The Residents Present the Third Reich 'n Roll. Someone coming out with that, going against the prevailing notion of rock as being this grand, spontaneous, liberating music of free expression and seeing it as something dictatorial and tyrannical, it really hit a chord. It was someone trying to rip down the edifice of rock.
Bryan Kehoe (M.I.R.V. bearded opera guy): In this big giant corporate recording industry, the Residents' success is a raging finger in the air.
Klaus Flouride (Jumbo Shrimp guitarist): From a business aspect sure, they were one of the first people who just put out records by themselves ... but I don't think that's their greatest achievement. They started out in Louisiana, but they did the major body of work out of San Francisco. They were tied in -- in the early days -- with innovators like Tuxedomoon and that school of strange, not-comfortable-to-listen-to music.
Dren McDonald (Vaccination Records proprietor; Giant Ant Farm singer): I think I first bought Fingerprince and Duck Stab. I was just frightened. Literally, I couldn't listen to them. I kept them around because they were interesting. But I was truly scared. Maybe a year later I put them on again. And maybe the year after that again. It took so long to acclimate myself. Such wild stuff.
Kehoe: How do you say what their music sounds like? It's that wacky, zany, otherworldly sound. So insane. And their shows and their whole thing. Shit. What do you say to that? You can't say nothing. It speaks for itself. You see it and you hear it and you go, "What the fuck was that!?" That's the greatest thing.
Ron Anderson (Molecules guitarist): I don't even know how to describe their music. That must be the ultimate compliment.
David Cooper (Eskimo marimba/vibes player): The musical structures are very simple and they achieve a great deal with very little. It's mostly in the voicings and the pacing and the evocation of place. You wonder who it is and who are these people who make such agonizing music.
Penn Jillette (Penn & Teller comedian; former Residents press officer): I was in Texas seeing the Talking Heads for that brief moment that they were good. I was walking behind these two guys and one of them said, "You know, I'd give anything to know who the Residents are." So I spoke the names of the Residents loudly and clearly. He turned around, looked at me, and kept walking. The important part of getting information is knowing when you've got it. His wish had been granted and he didn't know it. He was walking around with a 14-inch dick in his pants and no one told him.
Frykdahl: Seeing them live for the first time in 1986 or 1987 at the Warfield ... I was completely blown away by the fact that they never turned into human beings. It was like going to a show on another planet. They never broke character for an instant -- not in their entire career. It changed my idea of what a performing group could be.
Mavrides: Their interests are ideas. That's not to downgrade the musical quality, but the Residents get ideas and play with ideas. As such, their ideas are interdisciplinary. If they do a show, it's not just a bunch of guys playing instruments on a stage: It's an involving event.
Anderson: They weren't punk, but they were making fun of the hippies. You imagine the hippies going to see the Residents in 1978 tripping on acid. That'd be a pretty bad trip I imagine. That stuff could sound pretty strange to those people.
James Redekop (Residents' Web master): We already have enough avant-gardists who take themselves dead seriously; we need a few who can laugh. They do have a sense of humor, a ferociously inventive one.
Sarah McLennan (Ralph Records partner): There is no such thing as a typical Residents fan. They are everyone from a 16-year-old high school kid in Florida to a guy with two kids who works in a small-town jail in Massachusetts. The only common denominator is they may not fit into their society. ... A Residents fan is a misfit.
Brian Hageman (Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 and U.S. Saucer guitarist): I would stop at saying that Residents fans are weird or have a desire to cultivate what is weird in them.
Gore: I can remember being in whatever they called the indie section of Tower Records in West L.A. and holding these copies of the Residents' records and having this real sense that this was the only pop music that was speaking to me at all.
Jennifer Shagawat (Static Faction drummer): Snakefinger used to live [here] at Starcleaners. (He played guitar on a lot of the Residents' records.) Now whenever something breaks or something weird happens in the house we always say it's the ghost of Snakefinger. I don't know for sure if the Residents lived in this house, but supposedly their studio used to be here and they did movies here and stuff. It feels like there is energy in the house. It's alive. It's creative as hell. When we did our first concert here, I didn't know anyone in this town and people came to it telling me that this place has a legacy and a history of incredible musicians.
Jet (KUSF DJ): The Residents very much established the underground here. When people think of San Francisco now, they think of crazy artists.
Flouride: The Residents still matter for the same reason that Stockhausen matters or for the same reason that Zappa does: They changed the face of weird music in America.