It's no secret that Fang's decade-long hiatus was because of vocalist Sam "Sammytown" McBride's eight-year stint in a California prison. His time in the joint was fairly short considering the reason he landed there: The strangulation death of his 24-year-old girlfriend while he was completely out of his head on heroin. It had become his drug of choice back then, and he sold LSD to keep up with his almost $1,000-a-day habit--not that that's an excuse for his crime. Though there really is no excuse, McBride's done his time, so there's no use dwelling on it; it won't change anything one way or the other.
If you like this story, consider signing up for our email newsletters.
SHOW ME HOW
You have successfully signed up for your selected newsletter(s) - please keep an eye on your mailbox, we're movin' in!
But Fang's return to Dallas isn't just noteworthy for its TV-movie storyline: The band was probably the key musical assault on the Bay Area's scene in the '80s, fitting perfectly into the punk rock mold without sounding commonplace. Its raw and unpolished delivery crashed around you as the drummer beat his kit like he was trying to reprimand it for being naughty. McBride sang as if he were hiding a mouth full of biscuits, but that only seemed to make it more tasty. And the guitars were bruising, uncompromising, and crude. Though McBride spent much of the '90s in prison, a new generation of listeners who missed the group's explosive sets during its incessant touring between 1981 and 1989 had the chance to play catch-up. Bands like Mudhoney, Nirvana, and Green Day covered Fang songs such as "The Money Will Roll Right In" (from 1982's Landshark/Where the Wild Things Are, released on Boner Records), along with others with comedic titles such as "Everybody Makes Me Barf," "They Sent Me To Hell C.O.D.," "Fun With Acid," and "Berkeley Heathen Scum."
And that should have been it. Reforming Fang wasn't anything McBride had planned on, even though he wrote a few songs for a band that formed and disbanded after starting a riot while in the pen. But after recording a song for the soundtrack to a film called Down Time as a favor for a friend, McBride decided to keep the latest version of Fang together a while longer. The group's first show after McBride's release from prison was opening for the Dwarves at the Trocadero in San Francisco. Though it was met with expected controversy (including death threats), the night was surprisingly successful and injury-free. Not that a calmer, gentler Fang should come as much of a surprise; McBride looks like the typical suburban father these days. Married with two children (one of whom was conceived during a conjugal visit in prison), McBride owns a brand-new minivan bought with royalty money from Warner Brothers, thanks to the fact that Green Day covered a Fang song on an import release. Which, if you think about it, is punk rock in its own way. Sort of.
McBride will be driving that van to Texas this week, where in his youth he'd been arrested once for "too much fun" and almost arrested another time for urinating in the parking lot of the Twilite Room before Fang's last performance there. The newly reformed Fang lands in Texas just in time to play its final shows ever--first in Dallas, and then at Emo's in Austin. Joining McBride is former Faith No More guitarist Jim Martin (who's also collaborating with McBride on a new band), drummer Clint Phillips (ex-The American Fuse), and bassist Casey Orr (Rigor Mortis, GWAR). McBride won't even meet or practice with his short-lived Dallas partners until his family rolls into town. It was a visit that was originally intended to be a vacation and a chance to hang with his pal Dave Woodard, whom he'd met when Billyclub was playing with Fang in San Diego a while back. And if you want to grumble about the new version of Fang, just remember: The group has had more than 30 members, and even McBride isn't an original. Maybe Fang ceased to exist a long time ago. Fang performs May 19 at Trees.