The Not - a retrospective - November 9, 2005
The NOT was not just another hard rockin’ Boston punk band. It was, as one local journalist said, “Boston’s best kept secret”. Although The NOT was not always on time or even in time, it was, as some people have since observed, “ahead of its time”. In the material complied here and recorded between 1983 and 1986 one can hear elements of punk, grunge, ska, and even hip hop fused into classic rock and roll. This unique blend of musical influences and accomplished musicianship set The NOT apart form many of its peers in America’s 1980s underground scene.
In three short years the band found an enthusiastic audience all over North America and as far a field as Australia, Brazil, and Finland. Whether there were three people or three hundred people in the audience, The NOT always played with a fury and dedication that on some nights created pure ecstasy for everyone in the room. Blood, sweat, and noise were the order of the day. Hard work, some cash, and a little luck were the foundation, while cold showers, rancid food, and “long rides to hell” were the grim reality. Inspiration came from many places including many of the bands we played with such as Husker Du, The Minutemen, 7 Seconds, DOA, The Damned, and Mission of Burma.
Always, it was the music that counted. We had as much fun playing in the dank basement at our parents’ house as we did in front of a thousand people in San Francisco. Rob’s frenzied and inspired drumming was mesmerizing, and if he was not playing a stationary instrument he would surely have been flying about the place at ninety miles an hour. Pete’s extraordinarily fierce yet grounded bass playing sounded and looked as if he was playing lead guitar and yet it actually kept things from completely tearing apart at the seams. I wailed mercilessly on my poor, neglected guitar, breaking strings, guitar necks, and amplifiers, as I leapt about with abandon, often injuring myself or some unsuspecting member of the audience who found his or herself in my path of destruction. When we played it seemed as if the band was going in three different directions, and yet Rob, Pete, and I could never survive without each other’s playing. We played our songs in short, tight bursts of fury, and yet we encouraged and expected each other to take risks and to stretch the musical envelope. The NOT had a rare chemistry that allowed, indeed demanded, a high degree of artistic autonomy and experimentation. It was creative competition at its best.
One journalist predicted that The NOT would be the first Boston band to make the jump from Boston’s then obscure hardcore punk rock scene to the big time. That, of course, never happened because like a lot of independent, DIY (do-it-yourself) American bands during the 1980s, The NOT was a part of a movement that was virtually invisible and ignored at the time although it became highly influential in the long run. Perhaps the band should have stuck it out like some of its contemporaries. Yet when The NOT called it quits in 1986 after three years of intensive touring and recording the band felt that it had done the best it could. The band had also run out of money.
Still, I consider myself one very lucky musician. I did not become very famous or make any money. But I got to play in a great band that was great because the musicians who played in it were intense, able, and committed, and were able to create a sound that, to me, was as close to perfection as possible. I would never have wanted to play in any band except The NOT.
Tommy Lamont
Boston, November 9, 2005
In three short years the band found an enthusiastic audience all over North America and as far a field as Australia, Brazil, and Finland. Whether there were three people or three hundred people in the audience, The NOT always played with a fury and dedication that on some nights created pure ecstasy for everyone in the room. Blood, sweat, and noise were the order of the day. Hard work, some cash, and a little luck were the foundation, while cold showers, rancid food, and “long rides to hell” were the grim reality. Inspiration came from many places including many of the bands we played with such as Husker Du, The Minutemen, 7 Seconds, DOA, The Damned, and Mission of Burma.
Always, it was the music that counted. We had as much fun playing in the dank basement at our parents’ house as we did in front of a thousand people in San Francisco. Rob’s frenzied and inspired drumming was mesmerizing, and if he was not playing a stationary instrument he would surely have been flying about the place at ninety miles an hour. Pete’s extraordinarily fierce yet grounded bass playing sounded and looked as if he was playing lead guitar and yet it actually kept things from completely tearing apart at the seams. I wailed mercilessly on my poor, neglected guitar, breaking strings, guitar necks, and amplifiers, as I leapt about with abandon, often injuring myself or some unsuspecting member of the audience who found his or herself in my path of destruction. When we played it seemed as if the band was going in three different directions, and yet Rob, Pete, and I could never survive without each other’s playing. We played our songs in short, tight bursts of fury, and yet we encouraged and expected each other to take risks and to stretch the musical envelope. The NOT had a rare chemistry that allowed, indeed demanded, a high degree of artistic autonomy and experimentation. It was creative competition at its best.
One journalist predicted that The NOT would be the first Boston band to make the jump from Boston’s then obscure hardcore punk rock scene to the big time. That, of course, never happened because like a lot of independent, DIY (do-it-yourself) American bands during the 1980s, The NOT was a part of a movement that was virtually invisible and ignored at the time although it became highly influential in the long run. Perhaps the band should have stuck it out like some of its contemporaries. Yet when The NOT called it quits in 1986 after three years of intensive touring and recording the band felt that it had done the best it could. The band had also run out of money.
Still, I consider myself one very lucky musician. I did not become very famous or make any money. But I got to play in a great band that was great because the musicians who played in it were intense, able, and committed, and were able to create a sound that, to me, was as close to perfection as possible. I would never have wanted to play in any band except The NOT.
Tommy Lamont
Boston, November 9, 2005