In the seventies, three young El Monte lads attending New Lexington school had one thing in common. KISS. Seven year old youngsters Bob Salcido and Brett McChristy were chums in second grade, Bretts brother Joel was hard at work failing fifth grade. At that time the world had no clue what was brewing in the minds of those creative geniuses. After the passing of Joel and Bretts mother, they were forced to move to Texas with their father, just outside of Waco, beautiful, majestic and inspirational to those two young gifted song writers. As years flew by, Joel and little baby brother Brett moved back to California in search of rock stardom. Meanwhile, in 1986, a fat fourteen year old Bob Salcido started his first year at El Monte High School. This was also the year he started pounding on the drums. It was there where he met fifteen year old guitar prodigy Gabriel Bocanegra. He had the skills of Eddie Van Halen, and the complexion of Hendrix. They soon realised they were interested in the same music. Dead Kennedys, G.B.H., Minor Threat, T.S.O.L., D.R.I., Slayer, the list went on. They soon formed a chaotic punk rock nightmare. One afternoon during a rare occassion, Bob and Gabe were actually in school. Gabe was bragging to fellow lads about how great his new band was. Bob simply stated, "Dude, our band sucks."
At that very moment the light bulb lit up, though they were always lit. Bob stated, "There it is, thats the name of the band!!" The following year sophomore Bob recognized a familiar face in guitar class, a sixteen year old Brett. It was like the meeting of Lennon and Mc Cartney all over. Two childhood friends re-united. They are now married with 4 beautiful children. Anywho.... Brett, Bob, and Gabe started banging numerous tunes out in Gabes garage. The line-up was Bob on drums, Gabe on guitar, and Brett was on vocals.
They soon needed a bass player, Brett suggested his brother Joel. One evening, while auditioning for the band, Gabe and Bob realised Joel sucked bad. Horrible. Left handed guy playing a bass right handed. This is the only time in musical history that a bass sounded like a tuba. Brett picked up the bass to show his inept brother how it was done,
Joel picked up the mic and the line-up was now solid. O.B.S. has now taken form. They were quickly writing tunes, playing backyard gigs, and found that spitting on each other was a form of male bonding. O.B.S. went on to play numerous shows through the years.
One day, Joel and Brett mentioned a charming co-worker by the name of Martin was interested in joining the band, although he didn't play an instrument. He was
quickly scooped on board so his talent wouldn't go un-noticed. Martin carried a look of a tribal warrior, or some type of aborigine. It obvious he was meant to carry out primitve tribal beats, a percussive backbone to the band was essential. But this man could not play on any drum, it had to be unique. After fine research, Martin became the trash can player.
Shortly incorporating a huge cast iron clown head, he was known as the man on the clown/can. Years passed like gas and the boys find themselves immersed in money and fame.
They release a self-titled album, OUR BAND SUCKS on Nemesis Records with east L.A.'s own guitar hero/god Jimmy Alvarado on second guitar. Alvarado achieved fame with punk rock legends Butt Acne, but was pulled out of retirement by O.B.S. They propped him up, dusted him off, tuned the guitar and pointed him in the right direction. Years later after a multi-million dollar dispute in court, Jimmy left the band, back to retirement. He now surfs full time in the Bahamas. Years after that, Brett married, had two wonderful children and was forced to bow out gracefully to take on the role of daddy. This was the end of Our Band Sucks, or was it??The group formed in the mid nineties with former Dirt Clod Fight bassist, the dashing, irresistable, Preston Peck. The boys were off and running again. They soon adopted Prestons home studio as their own, practicing endlessly at the estate numerous times a week. Many new tunes, many shows, and even a few unreleased recordings. It was in 1997 when they came to the conclusion that they were ready for retirement, the road was beating them up, and they've achieved the financial gain they always struggled for.
O.B.S. died in 1997, never to live again, but will always live on in badly recorded bootlegged cassettes all tangled up in some guys old stereo that he used to listen to in high school.Thank you Our Band Sucks,
from your number one fan.Go here for a good laugh.
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