Fern's Gospel is a mega-ultra indie-rock outfit formed from mega humble, yet precocious beginnings. Their influences range from the depths of 1920s alt "pidgeon doom" jazz, to modern mall-punk, and even into 1980s hate-folk. Their songs are built around groove-tastic, tasty, tasty guitars and liquid-meat-pounding, carnal drums. This, is the story of how Fern's Gospel came to be.
The vocals (sometimes called "vox" in the 'biz) are courtesy of Mel Steinenfeld, an alum of the prestigious Winded Biscuit Vocing Ensemble in Northeastern Slovenia. Once there, he honed his rhythmic vocal slanderings through metabolic breathing and underwater parkour. He then returned to the States, where, by chance, he met Hugh Tuffernaught outside a Syracuse deli. The two of them immediately went on to record many platinum albums together (like CDs made out of platinum; they didn't actually sell any copies unfortunately). However, despite their success, they still needed some "keys" (short for keyboard; it's like a piano but with "sum sleez" according to Brooke) if they were going to break through to next level. So, they hitchedhiked their way across the country and eventually wound up doing some amateur mime work in South Reno at "The Guv'na's Bawl". This is where things get really interesting. The club's resident pianist, Thom Chrooz (half-related), was getting sick of playing for sad dads, so he had to jump at the oppurtunity to join the band immediately.
For the next four years, they hit the casino circuit hard. Huge raises and savage blazes was the motto in which they lived by, and they would even go on to get it tattooed on thier lower backs as a sign of solidarity. But all good roller coasters do eventually come to a end, or something. The "munny" had stopped (Brooke, pgs. 3-5, 1948). They had hit rock bottom--or so everyone had told them. It was time to find a bassist if they were ever going to realize their dream and make it through the blind auditions of "Terry Novak's Great American Radio Rox, Season 3." Little did they know, lady luck was about to change their lives forver.
Fast forward 4 days. The band was rehearsing in a park in the rough outset of Lake Oswego, Oregon, where they happen to catch the ear of a passer-by while playing one of their mega singles "Who touched ma' peanuts". But this was no ordinary townfolk. It was none other than Domingo Butterfield (yes, THAT Domingo Butterfield, of the Bangle Boyz fame). He strolled over and started envisiong basslines to delicately drench over their sounds. Now, as we all know Domingo is no ordinary bass player. He practially invented "Priming the Bass", a method in which the strings are "seduced without the prejudice of fear" before playing (Brooke, pg. 48, 1977).
The band was now complete, and they would head south to work on new material. Eventually they found enough songs in their repertoire to record, but something was amiss. The songs sucked. All of them. "Broken Pony" was beginning to look like a possible single, but their manager pleaded with them to ditch it, as its lyrics revealed too much about the corruption of the underground water polo circuit of Salt Lake City. They needed a fresh start. They needed a new record.
On February 19th, 2016, Mel awoke in the middle of the night in a fit of rage. In his delirium, he jumped out of bed and began to spray his bandmates with windex to awake them. He demanded that they instantly get dressed, gather all of their possessions, and jump inside the tour van. Albeit confused, the band agreed. They trusted Mel, and his ayahuasca addiction was always contributing to "life journeys of false desire" (Brooke, pg. 6, 2042), so this was nothing new. Three days later, the arrived home in Lake City; a swank suburb found in North Seattle. Once there, they found the writing process to be seamless and intuitive, and thus, "The Cannonball" was formed. If you search hard enough, you will find Fern's Gospel haunting the Seattle streets at night. Stay tuned for upcoming shows.