Back in 1992, a little band out of Charlotte, NC, came into my life, becoming a huge game-changer in what I loved about music. Animal Bag seemed to come out of nowhere with the video/single for the song “Everybody,” and I can remember being psyched, over the moon, and confused as fuck. “What am I actually seeing and hearing?” The band was groovin’ out in a cornfield, the vocalist sporting dreadlocks that came damn near close to Lenny Kravitz’s epicness while sporting a Grateful Dead shirt. It was metal; it was groovy, it was psychedelic, it was music that was beyond description.
Picking up the self-titled debut album as soon as I could, I took that album home, and I absorbed every single note, every single dynamic musical change within the songs, but the lyrics grabbed me and captivated me. At a time when heavy metal was starting to change course and head into directions that I wasn’t happy with, Animal Bag managed to combine a bit of the past hippie groove rock with a bit of the modern (at the time) combining influences like Janes Addiction, Faith No More, and even the Red Hot Chili Peppers for good measure.
When the music was heavy, it was heavy. Songs like “Hate Street,” “Personal Demons,” and “Darker Days” could run neck and neck with just about any metal band. In contrast, songs like “Hello Cosmo,” “Oddball,” “Mirrored Shades,” and “City Song” explored the more mellow, acoustic-based side of the hippiedom that was also a significant influence on Animal Bag.
Musically Animal Bag scratched all of my itches, and lyrically their songs were thought-provoking, full of psychedelic imagery, and emotionally moving as I found myself connecting with some of these songs on a grand level. “Shit, the alarm. Now don’t be afraid. New worlds to conquer beds to be made.” This line from “Mirrored Shades” became a sort of mantra for me every morning I woke from my sleep. Even on the shittiest days, it was a day to be seized and conquered. Sometimes with varying results, but nonetheless, I had the motivation to at least try.
Animal Bag never got the attention or the recognition that they truly deserved, but the people who did know of Animal Bag were well aware of what the band was capable of. They put on two of the most electrifying, energetic live performances I have ever seen to this day. Hell, I only got to see them twice, so I’m sure that number would mirror the exact number if there were more. Animal Bag went on to release an amazing acoustic EP called “Offering,” which featured two incredible covers (“Dun Ringel” by Jethro Tull and “Wooden Ships” by Crosby, Stills, and Nash) and the never officially released album Image Damage.
As much as I love those last two releases, the debut album will forever be a huge part of my life. Thirty years later, listening to the Animal Bag debut floods my brain with nostalgia. I remember the good times with an old girlfriend, sitting on my parent’s covered back deck smoking weed, feeling the humid heat of a Georgia summer, and not worrying about anything more than what we would get for take-out. But, I also remember the times I struggled with life. Hating my job, breaking up with said girlfriend, and leaving my band was moments in my life that I felt like, at the time, could’ve broken me.
Life at that time could’ve broken me, but it didn’t. Life moved on, and as I moved on, Animal Bag was right there by myself with words of encouragement. “As long as I’m on this side of forever. I’ll be singing for my supper, won’t say never. And the road I take, whether high or low, I know. Once I catch a song, I’ve gotta let it go.” How can words like this not fill you with optimism, determination, and a bit of hope?
Thirty years later, here I am. I’m a music journalist and have been for 12 years. I have an amazing wife of 25 years and a life that I wouldn’t trade for the world. Those roadblocks and detours I had to take in the past got me to where I am today. That being said, there are still those days where life feels like it’s trying to break me down, and when it does, Animal Bag is one of the bands that is there when I need them the most.
In 2020 just after the Covid-19 pandemic lockdown, I found myself at an artistic crossroads and needing to branch out and explore my innermost songs that had yet to come out. It was a scary move to leave a band that I was a part of for nearly seven years, but I remembered the lyrics from the song “Oddball.” “Let the bells of originality ring. Let the voices who choose their own path sing.” All of a sudden, I wasn’t scared anymore. I made an amicable split with my band, and you know what? I sang. I sang, and sang, and sang because I chose my own path. Pretty heavy shit, huh?
Thirty years later, Animal Bag is still a trusty old friend, and I can’t thank them enough for that. At least I know that they will read this and know just what an impact their music has had on one person, at the very least. RIP to drummer Boo Duckworth who passed in 2002, and guitarist Rich Parris in 2010. I am so glad I got to meet them 30 years ago and thank them personally, but I wish they were around today to see their impact on me as a musician and as a human being.
Happy 30, Animal Bag. 30 looks good on ya!
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