The Shallow End of the Pool

I was looking though my CD collection the other day, and came across one that I decided had a pretty funny story behind it. Such a funny story, in fact, that I will share it with all 3 people that read this site regularly.

Back in 1992, me, my brother, a buddy of ours that we worked with at the bowling alley, his wife, and my girlfriend (now wife), went to see The Lynch Mob at a club in Sea Bright, NJ. We were all pretty jazzed to go see Lynch Mob, but they would not be what we remembered about that fateful night at the Jersey Shore. No, my life would be forever changed that evening by the opening act, Life Sex And Death.

In those days, the only radio station I listened to was 89.5 FM, WSOU, originating from Seton Hall University. Any self-respecting metal fan from Central New Jersey in the late 80s/early 90s listened to that station. At this particular time, there was a song playing in fairly heavy rotation called "Tank" by Life Sex And Death which I enjoyed a great deal. When we got tickets to the Lynch Mob show and I found out that LSD was also on the bill, I was pretty excited. I knew nothing about the band, so was looking forward to seeing what they were all about.

So we're at the show, and there was some unknown local act on first. The place was not very crowded yet, but as it started to fill up, it really started to smell. Bad. Before too long, we all discovered the source of the stench: there was a really nasty looking guy, possibly homeless, wandering through the crowd, occasionally pumping his fist in the air to the music being played on stage. At one point he was standing right next to us, and the odor was almost unbearable. Eventually he wandered off, leaving us bewildered as to what the hell this guy's story was. He didn't exactly fit the heavy metal fan profile.

LSD was up next, and the band hit the stage. They looked pretty much like any other hard rock band of the day. A couple of sweaty shirtless guys with long hair and leather pants started playing...and then the homeless guy lurched into view on the stage. We all looked at each other. What the hell was he doing up there? Where was security? And then the homeless guy had a microphone. A group of people somewhere behind us started chanting "Stanley! Stanley! Stanley!" And the homeless guy, Stanley, started to sing.



To this day, it remains one of the greatest shows I have ever been to. Stanley kicked ass for the next 45 minutes, and the next day I ran out and bought the band's debut CD, "The Silent Majority," which I still listen to on a fairly regular basis all these years later.

Sadly, the band never really took off and only released the one CD. I have not been able to find much information about them online, although there is one website dedicated to the band that has photos, and a message board filled with stories like mine.