All My Records: Black Fork “Hormel is Giving Away Free Red, White, and Blue Sports Tubes to 1000 Lucky Corn Dog Lovers”

I got this record shortly after seeing Black Fork for the first time in the summer of 1995 (on the strength of a demo given to me by a band member). They played at the short-lived D.I.Y. Center on Main Avenue in Fargo (across from the train depot). It was Fargo’s attempt at a Gilman-like communal show space, but it got shut down after a month. I guess the squares weren’t ready for that kind of thing yet. I saw every show they ever had there, except for one. Black Fork blew me away right off the bat. I don’t remember who they played with, and I don’t think the show was well attended (none of them were at the D.I.Y. Center, unfortunately), but that’s life.

They came back through town again the next summer with Los Canadians from Miami. They played in my friend Beth’s mom’s basement in Moorhead this time. Ask anyone who was at that show about the fight the neighbors were having across the street. It’s one of those weird Rashomon moments where everyone has a different recollection of it. It’s kind of neat. Anyway, they broke down and spent around a week in town. I didn’t hang out with them much but depending on who you ask, they were either fun or a holy terror.

I saw them again in the fall of ‘97 in some warehouse in Minneapolis. I’ve got some pictures from that show lying around somewhere. I’ll dig them up and post them at some point. I remember that I’d just gotten my dog, Monster, a few days before that show, and Ivy (singer of Los Canadians and frequent Black Fork tour mate) offered to hang on to him while I watched the band. That was nice of her.

So, the record. It’s a rager. I might be the only one left, but I love dumb samples on records, and Black Fork was great at cobbling together weird shit in the best way. They play fast and loose but with obvious talent lurking in the corners. That’s how I like it. Add Robin’s screech/growl vocals and all the boxes are checked. When I think of mid-90s punk, this is one of the bands that come to mind. Bands who toured in beat-up vans (or Suburbans), playing small towns and giving demos to 17-year-old kids will always hold a special place for me. What could be better at that age than to see a bunch of wild-asses tearing up a dingy basement with only a handful of people there? That’s what they call a “formative experience.”