CAPTAIN FANTASTIC!

Local rock deconstructors Captain Captain refuse to be confined

That night, Captain Captain successfully confused the audience: All Captains dressed head to toe in virginal white, complete with white pantyhose over the head; the rhythm section wore tall, furry black marching-band helmets. Under the incidental red stage lights, they were magical (not to mention fast and very, very loud); Galloway's fourth-song, grand run-up-onstage entrance (à la James Brown) seemed natural if you didn't know he was late because of a night class. They have a song that sounds like Dazzling Killmen playing a Metallica tune manipulated by Melt-Banana, and you probably thought they were from Chicago or somewhere else. As for future shows, Melsha offers, they "will play with anyone who will or has already destroyed the concept of music in St. Louis, or anyone who will get us out of town."

That's the thing about not playing in a disco cover band or a mediocre cookie-cutter act here: you get SLS (St. Louis syndrome) and decide you need to take it on the road to Cleveland or someplace like that where human beings are born with different ears or something and can appreciate creative genius. Captain Captain can't wait to get some of that action. They advise you to form no expectations for their future output but are thinking "more, more, more" -- multimedia, and, with luck, Johnson's dream: a concert in quadrophonic sound.

Captain Captain: They'll "play with anyone who will or has already destroyed the concept of music in St. Louis, or anyone who will get us out of town."
Jennifer Silverberg
Captain Captain: They'll "play with anyone who will or has already destroyed the concept of music in St. Louis, or anyone who will get us out of town."

Despite the fruity-boy sailor-lover implication of their moniker, the root of the Captain Captain name is much fancier. After several names were scratched from the list, Johnson had an epiphany: "We were sitting around, after just having imbibed several substances with powerful, wildly varied effects, and we decide to watch Alexandro Jodorowsky's The Holy Mountain. Suddenly, without warning, during the Mars planetary sequence, there is Captain Captain! Comic-book hero for the rock revolution! How could I have forgotten! Six hours or so later, a friend obligingly scoops up my brains and replaces them into the proper brain case. Was it a spiritual journey, or malfunctioning synapses? Is there a difference? You tell me." So Jodorowsky's "Captain Captain against the Peruvian Monster" became St. Louis' " Captain Captain against the American Monster." Space superheroes for the gifted listener. Right on.

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