Introducing ... the Ice Water Baggies
"We may be different ... but we're not stupid." -- K. Hospoda, circa 1984
Katrina Hospoda, 26, from Northern Minnesota
: former drummer/background vocalist of the Doorknobs, a psychedelic group, who broke up due to artistic differences. They were stagnating, trapped in one place and time and style.
: spent her youth as a political radical, protesting when protesting wasn't cool. Denounced capitalism at an early age.
Katrina Usklebek, 20
: from a small Minnesota town with a strong underground movement, living from day to day as a marginal member of the local hard-core scene, involved in illegal concerts in basements and garages.
: no previous professional experience, an amateur with unrealized potential.
Levon Nevazony
: at 3 - 1/2, he left home to hang out with the band the Diaper Rash. When their drummer left unexpectedly, he filled in and became their permanent drummer. Hospoda took in the homeless waif after she discovered him sitting in a hazy corner corner of a club, drumming absent-mindedly along with the music. After watching him drink strawberry sodas all night, she got up and introduced herself.
"He said he liked the Doorknobs, but thought they lacked something in guitar cohesiveness." -- Hospoda on Nevazony
Early recordings
"Ronnie, Ronnie, he's our man
If he can't kill us, nobody can!"
1500 Mutants
Hurry up! Start today!
Manipulate that DNA!
Conceive him in a petri dish
Make him any way I wish.
Chorus: What about the mutants? Fifteen hundred mutants?
Make him strong
Courageous
Calculating, cruel
In the future he will conquer you
Chorus: What about the mutants? Fifteen hundred mutants?
The consummate leader
Filled with brilliance
That's my son
In the petri dish
Chorus: What about the mutants? Fifteen hundred mutants?
Get to work
Split those genes
I don't care about DNA
Make him, make him, make him my way.
The days are few
What's enlightenment worth to you?
(Repeating) I want perfection
There will be no exception.
Mixed up chromosomes
Frozen embryos
Mutilated fetuses
The head of a cow
What the hell
Are you going to do now?
(Repeating) I want perfection
There will be no exception.
But what about the mutants? Fifteen hundred mutants?
He Thinks I'm a Doll
Take a pin
Ram it through my hert
Babe, I'm your voodoo doll.
Slam me to the ground
Stomp, stomp on my guts
Why? I'm your voodoo doll.
Pins up my ass
Pins in my eyes
Rap my head against a tree
Abuse me, destroy me
Oh, I'm your voodoo doll
Hang me by my toes
From your basement ceiling
Hit me with a baseball bat
Feed my hair
To your pet rat
Treat me like shit, babe
Huh, I'm your voodoo doll.
(The editor recalls that the intro began with a Ronald Reagan impersonation saying "Nancy, where's my voodoo doll?" There does not, unfortunately, appear to be any written evidence of this).
Darker
It's getting dark
The light
It doesn't work
It's getting dark
It's getting darker
It's getting darker
It doesn't work
The light
It doesn't work
It's getting dark
It doesn't work
The light
It doesn't work
Another Christmas Season
Frozen waters
Empty gymnasiums
Corporate immunity
Christmas trees decorated with bitterness
Peaceful words
Birds at feeders
Salty sidewalks
Churches filled with the army of oppression
Lighted candles
Abandoned houses
Iranian terrorism
Bars contain the confused minds
Empty thank-yous
Busy parking lots
Blank staring eyes
Private heaven when she kisses his chest
Festive wrappings
Hidden doubts
Fur lined gloves
Appearances count more than what's in the heart
Blinking lights
Broken promises
Chemical explosions
Why is John Lennon dead?
Exploited women
Bags of cocaine
Confining bureaucracy
The military budget is a sacred cow
Forgotten Indians
Starving children
Disgusting
Live by the dollar and burn in hell.
Rude Girls Against Boschwitz
Rudy Boschwitz
He's a fright
Spending money left and right
Buying nerve gas -- it's the pits
He wants MX, he wants Stealth
He just loves himself and wealth
Down the tubes, our state aid went
Blind support for the President
Rudy moved to the Big DC
Only comes home to collect his fee
He won't pass the ERA
They should be home washing socks all day
How can people be so dumb?
Out with him, out with him, out with the bum!
Notes on the Recordings
1500 Mutants: Katrina on vocals, bookcase and table drums; Katrina on background vocals, harmonica, Vaseline percussion and woodblock.
Drums: Katrina
Recorder: Katrina
Background percussion: Katrina
Vocals: Katrina & Katrina
General Notes
Song titles with no other documentation include "Dead Languages," "Dippity-Do," "The Boss," "Nuclear Winter," "Dig Her Vibes" (a retro tune, possibly a left-over from the Doorknobs), "Sounds Like Chaos," and "Say It Correctly in Russian," which, I believe was an instrumental, with a periodic vocal comment of "Say it correctly in Russian." It's unclear if these songs were actually written or performed, or were unfinished concepts. There is also an existing snippet which sounds like a country song: "I don't want to hear about your cows/You don't want to hear about my cows."
There is also a liner note on a song called "Pumpkin Lust," with "Todd on vocals, Bill on guitar and rhythm guitar, Ken on synth. Sadly, no information about this song, or the identities of Todd, Bill, or Ken, has been unearthed.
Where are They Now?
It's a mystery. But wherever they are, I'm sure their Christmas trees are still covered in bitterness. They wouldn't want it any other way.
"We may be different ... but we're not stupid." -- K. Hospoda, circa 1984
Katrina Hospoda, 26, from Northern Minnesota
: former drummer/background vocalist of the Doorknobs, a psychedelic group, who broke up due to artistic differences. They were stagnating, trapped in one place and time and style.
: spent her youth as a political radical, protesting when protesting wasn't cool. Denounced capitalism at an early age.
Katrina Usklebek, 20
: from a small Minnesota town with a strong underground movement, living from day to day as a marginal member of the local hard-core scene, involved in illegal concerts in basements and garages.
: no previous professional experience, an amateur with unrealized potential.
Levon Nevazony
: at 3 - 1/2, he left home to hang out with the band the Diaper Rash. When their drummer left unexpectedly, he filled in and became their permanent drummer. Hospoda took in the homeless waif after she discovered him sitting in a hazy corner corner of a club, drumming absent-mindedly along with the music. After watching him drink strawberry sodas all night, she got up and introduced herself.
"He said he liked the Doorknobs, but thought they lacked something in guitar cohesiveness." -- Hospoda on Nevazony
Early recordings
"Ronnie, Ronnie, he's our man
If he can't kill us, nobody can!"
1500 Mutants
Hurry up! Start today!
Manipulate that DNA!
Conceive him in a petri dish
Make him any way I wish.
Chorus: What about the mutants? Fifteen hundred mutants?
Make him strong
Courageous
Calculating, cruel
In the future he will conquer you
Chorus: What about the mutants? Fifteen hundred mutants?
The consummate leader
Filled with brilliance
That's my son
In the petri dish
Chorus: What about the mutants? Fifteen hundred mutants?
Get to work
Split those genes
I don't care about DNA
Make him, make him, make him my way.
The days are few
What's enlightenment worth to you?
(Repeating) I want perfection
There will be no exception.
Mixed up chromosomes
Frozen embryos
Mutilated fetuses
The head of a cow
What the hell
Are you going to do now?
(Repeating) I want perfection
There will be no exception.
But what about the mutants? Fifteen hundred mutants?
He Thinks I'm a Doll
Take a pin
Ram it through my hert
Babe, I'm your voodoo doll.
Slam me to the ground
Stomp, stomp on my guts
Why? I'm your voodoo doll.
Pins up my ass
Pins in my eyes
Rap my head against a tree
Abuse me, destroy me
Oh, I'm your voodoo doll
Hang me by my toes
From your basement ceiling
Hit me with a baseball bat
Feed my hair
To your pet rat
Treat me like shit, babe
Huh, I'm your voodoo doll.
(The editor recalls that the intro began with a Ronald Reagan impersonation saying "Nancy, where's my voodoo doll?" There does not, unfortunately, appear to be any written evidence of this).
Darker
It's getting dark
The light
It doesn't work
It's getting dark
It's getting darker
It's getting darker
It doesn't work
The light
It doesn't work
It's getting dark
It doesn't work
The light
It doesn't work
Another Christmas Season
Frozen waters
Empty gymnasiums
Corporate immunity
Christmas trees decorated with bitterness
Peaceful words
Birds at feeders
Salty sidewalks
Churches filled with the army of oppression
Lighted candles
Abandoned houses
Iranian terrorism
Bars contain the confused minds
Empty thank-yous
Busy parking lots
Blank staring eyes
Private heaven when she kisses his chest
Festive wrappings
Hidden doubts
Fur lined gloves
Appearances count more than what's in the heart
Blinking lights
Broken promises
Chemical explosions
Why is John Lennon dead?
Exploited women
Bags of cocaine
Confining bureaucracy
The military budget is a sacred cow
Forgotten Indians
Starving children
Disgusting
Live by the dollar and burn in hell.
Rude Girls Against Boschwitz
Rudy Boschwitz
He's a fright
Spending money left and right
Buying nerve gas -- it's the pits
He wants MX, he wants Stealth
He just loves himself and wealth
Down the tubes, our state aid went
Blind support for the President
Rudy moved to the Big DC
Only comes home to collect his fee
He won't pass the ERA
They should be home washing socks all day
How can people be so dumb?
Out with him, out with him, out with the bum!
Notes on the Recordings
1500 Mutants: Katrina on vocals, bookcase and table drums; Katrina on background vocals, harmonica, Vaseline percussion and woodblock.
Drums: Katrina
Recorder: Katrina
Background percussion: Katrina
Vocals: Katrina & Katrina
General Notes
Song titles with no other documentation include "Dead Languages," "Dippity-Do," "The Boss," "Nuclear Winter," "Dig Her Vibes" (a retro tune, possibly a left-over from the Doorknobs), "Sounds Like Chaos," and "Say It Correctly in Russian," which, I believe was an instrumental, with a periodic vocal comment of "Say it correctly in Russian." It's unclear if these songs were actually written or performed, or were unfinished concepts. There is also an existing snippet which sounds like a country song: "I don't want to hear about your cows/You don't want to hear about my cows."
There is also a liner note on a song called "Pumpkin Lust," with "Todd on vocals, Bill on guitar and rhythm guitar, Ken on synth. Sadly, no information about this song, or the identities of Todd, Bill, or Ken, has been unearthed.
Where are They Now?
It's a mystery. But wherever they are, I'm sure their Christmas trees are still covered in bitterness. They wouldn't want it any other way.
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