We return this week to the subject of naming bands. It’s an easy topic to come back to because it’s a subject that could probably fill an entire instruction manual, or even a novel (in the case of some band names, that could even be a whodunit).
A conversation with a friend about band names came up this week, prompted by the relatively new band signed to Mountain Fever called “Throwdown Thursday,” an excellent band by the way, out of central Kentucky. As soon as I heard the name, I was encouraged because it’s opening up a whole new naming avenue (“turn left on Naming Avenue, then your destination is on the right”), which is alliterative names involving days of the week. This means we can now have bands with names like “Mellow Monday,” (for a band with a softer sound, possibly with a harp player), “Tune-up Tuesday,” (though this raises the concern that they’ll only be in tune once a week), “Wallop Wednesday,” (for one of those in-your-face mash bands), etc.
It’s just always good to break out of our adjective + river/road/highway/mountain boys naming conventions. Authentic Unlimited did just that by opting for the bold adjective + adjective system. The well-deserved success of the band, and therefore the name, inspired other recent band names, like “Lonesome Seasoned,” “Hard-driving Fast,” and the understated “Weary Competent.”
I got to thinking, though, about a source for band names that has almost never been used since the late ’70s, and that’s the use of a trademarked ingredient as a band name, which is what Hot Rize did when the band formed in Boulder, Colorado. Hot Rize, for those living outside the southeast (like in Boulder, for example), is a secret ingredient in the Martha White Flour company’s “self-rising” flour. It’s not so much a secret ingredient as a trademarked blend of leavening ingredients.
It’s a great band name. I expected it to spawn more names like it, however, based on trademarked ingredients used in food, cosmetics, or health supplements.
I had always wondered why no one ever used the secret ingredient in Certs breath mints, “Retsyn,” as a band name. The advertising used to say, “contains a sparkling drop of Retsyn.” I think most musicians would like a band name that’s associated with sparkling drops. Retsyn turned out to be a mixture of copper gluconate, partially hydrogenated cottonseed oil, and flavoring, and unfortunately it ended up being banned because of the partially hydrogenated cottonseed oil (not a good band name, by the way), but that shouldn’t affect its use as a name. Certs has made a recent comeback, but minus the Retsyn, which I think would make it all the easier to get permission to use it.
Here are some other trademarked ingredient names worth considering:
From the supplement world, which is fond of naming and marketing various proprietary blends:
Longvida — a Curcumin extract, and you know how bluegrass musicians love their curcumin.
FloraGlo — a form of Lutein, sourced from marigolds.
CarnoSyn (which sounds a little racy)— a form of Beta-Alanine, and we can all just pretend we know what that is.
From the world of cosmetics, usually a pretty deep well for this kind of thing:
Pro-V — from the Pantene people, a blend of Pro-Vitamin B5, blended with antioxidants and restorative lipids (is “The Restorative Lipids” a possible band name?)
Activ-7 — from Lifebuoy soap, a proprietary blend (again) of ingredients for the protection of skin, and possibly a good name for a seven-piece band.
Fluoristat — this was Crest toothpaste’s stannous fluoride formula. If I remember correctly, this was called “Fluoristan” in the ’60s and ’70s, but perhaps it sounded too much like a small Soviet Republic, leading to the name change.
GL-24 — Gleem toothpaste’s combination of polishing agents. As a band name, it might imply a polished sound, or it at least one-ups (or 22-ups) the Swedish band G2.
Hyalurosmooth — a formulation from the chemical giant BASF, described as an alternative to Hyaluronic acid (and we all certainly needed that). The company describes the trademarked ingredient as providing “mindfulness for the skin by interrupting the stress cycle.” It’s easy to see the music parallel here: Hyalorosmooth could be a band providing mindfulness for the ears, interrupting the audience’s stress cycle. The bio writes itself. As an added bonus, absolutely no show MC (or Bluegrass Today columnist) will ever be able to say “Hyalurosmooth” correctly—or at all—making for entertaining introductions.
If only Flatt & Scruggs had performed a jingle about Activ-7 or any of these ingredients at the Carnegie Hall show.
The problem with any of these names of course is the pesky trademark. That might require some negotiation and perhaps some money, but hey, you could come out of it with a toothpaste endorsement deal. If you fail to come to terms with any of these companies, you can always just call your band “Proprietary Blend,” which I’m pretty sure is in the public domain.
This is all really for our own amusement anyway because, as with instrumentals, you can truly name a band anything and it’s going to be fine. Any band can rise above a weak band name, just as any band can have a real zinger for a name but let everyone down with the music. In the end, if you have a name that doesn’t prompt a lawsuit, it just doesn’t matter that much. Remember there was once a bluegrass band—a really good one in fact—called “The Bluegrass Band.”
I rest my case.
