Submitted to "I, Anonymous" via email earlier this week...

I don't know if it's the psychotic ex-lover of one of one of my brand new Seattle band bandmates, or just people who hate the name of my new band: But please stop tearing my posters down!

To the psycho ex-lover: What can/should I say? Even if I did fuck my band mate you know it's wrong to text someone that one's recently dead mothers is whore. And you did this four times? Get help.

To the people who just hate my new band band name: I guess when I was driving thru Idaho, I drove by a sign that I thought was a good band name, sort of like 764-Hero or Sleater-Kinney. True: it appealed to me because it not only had a drug reference, but also because it had three sylables like Led Zepplin and Mother Love Bone. I knew the drug reference would make people uneasy. But I had no idea how much it would upset some of you.

I came to this realization the evening I went down to the Cheesecake Factory to spread holiday cheer with my tuba and hand out handbills. This I did not only to elevate the general limited perception people have of what a bad-ass instrument the tuba is, but to promote my free holiday concert in Belltown, this week. I left the Cheesecake Factory feeling really sorry—but not really, really sorry—that a certain demographic can't cope with the name of my band.

So, listen up, people who keep tearing my band's posters down: Seattle is a tough crowd for an up-and-coming band. To say the least. But compound that with the fact that one is a tuba player trying to get booked at rock show venues and it's damn near—no, totally impossible to get shows. I have been practicing tuba diligently for like a year or two, and I finally got my own, or our own, first show, this Thursday in Belltown, and people aren't going to know about it because you people keep tearing my band's posters down.

As that I am not fiscally well-to-do, and need to compete with professional postering people, I would really appreciate it if you didn't rip my posters down anymore. At least wait until Friday morning. You stupid junkie mother fuckers.—Tubby

I expect you had the same reaction I did after reading all the way through Tubby's email: "WHAT THE FUCK IS THE FUCKING NAME OF YOUR FUCKING BAND, BRASSHOLE?"

Why would someone leave his band's name out of such a transparently publicity-seeking "I, Anonymous" submission? I refuse to believe that the omission could have been intentional—that it represented a conscious effort on Tubby's part to pique my curiosity, thereby prompting me to email back to ask after his band's name, which would in turn leave me feeling obligated, post-email exchange/human e-interaction, to at the very least post Tubby's "I, Anonymous" submission to Slog and LineOut—because I don't think someone who plays the tuba is capable of being that manipulative. The tuba player, like the tuba itself, is far too simple to play so sophisticated a game.

Anyway: the name of Tubby's band, and a photo of the band, after the jump.

Idaho Meth Project.


Idaho Meth Project performs tonight at the Rendezvous with S.T.P. ("which obviously stands for Seattle Tube Project"), Brass Knuckles, and Bellingham's Sisturn Moth. Rendezvous, 10:00 PM, 21+, free. And, yes, there will be tubas...