Christmas has become many things to many people: a 30-pound ham, a claymation snowman, a Dora the Explorer backpack, an excuse to sing randomly at people’s doorsteps or get some Chinese food and hit the megaplex for some serious escapism. Perhaps no other holiday has so thoroughly taken a significant religious event and transformed it into an overwhelmingly commercial endeavor that reeks of egg nog and candy canes, and requires gigawatts of electrical power to light millions of seasonal displays, from Macy’s to Moe’s Tavern. Whether Christmas makes you feel like a warm cinnamon stick on the inside or an exhausted slave to American capitalism, you’ve probably noticed that just about every celebrity eventually takes on the concept/theme. It was only a matter of time until its sanctity was assaulted from the briny saltwater depths of Schneider land.
Fred Schneider may be one of the most unusual people to have ever become a rock star—a profession to which he, incidentally, never aspired—and is consequently one of the genre’s most original personalities. Fred stuck out like a sore thumb in a field that was, upon his “arrival” just before 1980 with The B-52s, dominated by long-haired stoner cavemen and refugees from a psychedelic era buried by catchy-if-vapid punk/dance bands like Blondie and The Ramones. Though he fit in more with the last type of music, it wasn’t exactly what he was about, either, and so The B-52s rode the crest of “new wave,” a genre which settled somewhere between the tight catchiness of general slick pop and the rough-edged D.I.Y. ethic of punk. Sharing the boat were a collection of, essentially, nerds and dandies, from Thomas Dolby to Adam Ant to Devo.
The B-52s put the “wave” in new wave, combining retro surf-rock with cheerleader call-and-response female vocals, and topped off the mix by slapping on Schneider, whose over-the-top absurdism bled into both his bizarre lyrics and his art school-effeminate circus ringmaster delivery. The guy was like a Mr. Rogers on mescaline, a Pee-Wee Herman-esque walking cartoon, and the colorful visual production of the band’s wardrobes and sets only added to their sensational appeal. They also came up the old-fashioned way, touring around from their home base in Athens, Georgia and pressing singles and albums that gradually sold more and more copies, until they were finally signed by Warner Brothers Records.
The band went through its share of ups and downs, including awards, chart-toppers and the unexpected death of original guitarist Ricky Wilson in 1985 from AIDS-related complications. Both Schneider and band-mate Kate Pierson spread their influences far and wide in the interim periods of the B-52s’ occasional hiatuses, and Fred’s seed-sowing included collaborations with Sleater Kinney and Foo Fighters (among others) and appearances in films including The Flintstones, Trekkies 2 and, much earlier, Paul Simon’s One Trick Pony, and TV shows including L’iL Bush and Space Ghost: Coast to Coast. Schneider also hosted his own new wave-themed Sirius radio show for a time called Party Out Of Bounds.
Schneider formed The Superions in 2006 with Noah Brodie and Dan Marshall. They originally called themselves The Del Morons. After a few initial digital releases, the band put out The Superions EP, both as a digital download and as a limited edition vinyl 12-inch, on the Athens-based Happy Birthday to Me label. Videos soon followed, as well as mash-ups and remixes of their early songs, and in January of this year they began work on a new full-length album for New York-based Fanatic Records, as well as collaboration on a single with Peaches and Shunda K. of Yo! Majesty. Plans were put on hold, however, to make way for Destination Christmas, an 11-song CD released on Oct. 25 on CD, LP and digital download.
Destination Christmas is not only an irreverent take on America’s favorite holiday, but even becomes dark at times, describing a couple who are buried in a frozen avalanche in what they thought was going to be a warm and toasty rental chalet (“Chillin’ at Christmas”) and a full-on North Pole Abominable Snow-couple blood rampage that results in elf-victimizing carnage, “reindeer stew” and Santa Claus being made into fondue (“Teddy and Betty Yeti”). There’s a moment of hope in “Crummy Christmas Tree” that a less-than-perfect tree might find a home like the one in A Charlie Brown Christmas, but such foolish notions of feel-good happy endings are dashed against Schneider’s over-developed sarcasm muscle when the tree is tossed on a fire by its angry seller after no one buys it.
Indeed, The Superions appear to enjoy celebrating Christmas as much as, say, the Taliban. In the song “Tears at Christmas,” Schneider and Co. have managed to describe everything that could possibly suck about the holiday, with lyrics like “credit card bills, sudden chills, enough to make you ill,” or “Oh, great, it’s snowing—jeez, I am sick of all this white crap already. Please, can’t one of you lazy kids stop texting for a minute and shovel the damn driveway?” Or how about, “Turn off the lights, quick! Those carolers are across the street and they always expect money or liquor. Fa la la la lacccchhh. Stay home and deck your own damn halls.”
Much of the Schneider oeuvre (The Superions also have a Halloween album in the works) is reminiscent of work by Edward Gorey or Tim Burton (especially, in this case, the latter’s The Nightmare before Christmas) in the almost morbid glee it takes in deconstructing such a treasured tradition. In fact, deconstruction is probably too gentle a descriptor for the behavior of these icons of black humor, as the end results of all their endeavors seem arrived at by tearing cherished childhood myths to pieces with merciless, jagged teeth of venomous disdain. If Schneider ever played a mall Santa in the persona he presents on this record, children would flee from him like cockroaches in a suddenly lit kitchen.
Talking to Fred in person took a bit of the edge off the experience of listening to the album. He comes off as a good-natured, personable guy who, despite his on-and-off ride on the roller coaster of fame and fortune, is still accessible, a guy who still walks around like regular people. And he reassured that not everything on the record ends as badly as one might surmise.
Valley Advocate: Have you got your coffee? Are you in interviewing form?
Fred Schneider: I just had my coffee.
You’re an icon of original, independent music. When the B-52s broke, there was really nothing to compare them to. What exactly was New Wave to you, or were you just kind of inventing it as you went along?
Well, we were actually the tail end of the punk thing, if you look at our early—well, it’s actually on YouTube, our black-and-white—there’s a black-and-white—ah, [laughs] not that, you know, we were around before color—performing in early 1978 at a club, and we were pretty punky, but we had our own twist to it. We just were rough, and we had an attitude like—no one wanted to have to deal with talking to the audience if something went wrong [laughs].
You came out of Athens, Georgia, and sort of spawned a scene down there. Are you still friends with Michael Stipe, et al? And are you still connected to that town?
Yeah, actually more Pylon and Love Tractor and all that—bands that started before, we met them. There were other bands too in Athens. Once we started everyone got on the “band-wagon”—oh, God, that’s a bad joke. But yeah, I actually met Michael and everybody in R.E.M. later, but I love—I mean, we recorded half of Funplex in Athens.
So tell us about the Superions—who plays what, etc.?
Noah plays just about everything, and Dan mans the computer, and I do the lyrics and most of the vocals. I assign them vocals, because I don’t think I should be singing everything—especially for the Halloween record and the other record, it’s going to be very different. But for this, I didn’t realize Noah could play drums, and so he got a set of synth-drums, which nowadays sound way better than they used to.
Are you touring in support of the Christmas album?
We have five videos. Since it’s a niche sort of thing, or considered a niche—I mean, they have full-time jobs, and I’m on tour with The B-52s—we’ll probably have parties and stuff like that, but [for now] we’re gonna have five videos out by Christmas. The first one’s “Fruitcake.”
It’s actually kind of dark, even—Santa, Mrs. Claus and all the elves and reindeer get murdered in one of the songs, and another couple freezes in their chalet.
Well, no—they survive. You can’t tell that, because originally I was going to have their heads stick up out of the snow, but we had no budget [for the accompanying video], so I didn’t know how to have their heads stick up out of the snow. Don’t worry, they’re alive.
Okay, I’m glad to hear that.
It was just the wrong place for a vacation—global warming caused it.
Do you have any particular favorites in the realm of Christmas myths or stories?
I love Christmas music, the badder the better. Actually people say, “Could you please play something traditional?” Because I was playing some of the stuff John Waters had on his Christmas album for a long time, and there’s another one—it’s like a YouTube sensation—what is it, the 12 days? It’s by this woman who gets progressively drunker as she sings “The Twelve Days of Christmas.”
It’s funny you mention John Waters. I see a crossover of aesthetic between you and him, somehow.
Well, I love his movies.
He’s actually up here a lot—now and then he’ll pop up at the Provincetown Film Festival.
Is that where you are, near Provincetown?
Well, we’re more out in the western part of the state.
But you go there in the summer?
Yeah, sometimes. Anything that happens out in P-Town is usually in the summer. It’s dead in the winter.
Because my friend Tom Yaz, who did some of the Superions videos, is the VJ at the Crown & Anchor.
He did the videos?
He did the video for “Totally Nude Island” and “Sexy Saucer Gals.” My good friend for years.
Did you say you guys also have a Halloween record?
Well, we have one song and I’ve written six more, hopefully for an EP. What we’re going to concentrate on is a regular—well, regular for us—a regular, full-length album.
Your press photos show the whole band sporting jungle-themed Snuggies. Is this your current preferred attire?
Hell no, they’re so uncomfortable! We just thought it’d be funny—Dan was at one of those CVS or Revco or something—they were [melodiously mimics a commercial] $14.99! They make you look as big as a house and they’re itchy. I sorta had them pulled, but people seemed to like them, so I’ll bring ’em back.
So where are you guys based?
Well, Dan and Noah live in Orlando, so that’s where we recorded everything. So I guess we’re an Orlando-based band.
That’s unusual, for something other than rap or metal.
Or Britney or Justin. Which we’re not.
How did you guys meet?
One of my friends owns the biggest record store in South Florida, Rock ‘n’ Roll Heaven, and it turns out people have seen me there for years but they’re too shy to say hello, like I’m real intimidating. So, finally my friend Freddy introduced me to Noah and Dan, and we just hit it off, and now I stay with them and we record and we did the videos at their house. They bought a green screen and hunted down some props and… I don’t know what their house looks like now, probably still Christmas.
Are there links for any of these videos?
Uh, hello, they’re all on YouTube.
So, just type in “Superions?”
Yes. We’re going to stagger the release of the Christmas videos. The one that’s out now is “Fruitcake,” and there’s also “Totally Nude Island,” “Sexy Saucy Girls” and “Who threw that Ham at Me?”
And you guys made all of those?
Yes. I directed “Who threw that Ham at Me?” and the Christmas videos, and Noah and Dan filmed it and had their ideas too. Tom Yaz did “Sexy Saucer Gals” and I directed—well, quote “directed”—did the footage in Orlando. We just… we swim against the current, let’s say. We’re having fun, and luckily it’s working.
There’s something about your style that’s very retro-futuristic. In a lot of ways I think you had an indelible artistic effect on other creative people—and this plays into John Waters, too—but I wonder if you also affected people like Tim Burton. Is that something you’re conscious of?
I don’t know, but—this is a true story—I have a screenplay that never got made, and Tim actually wanted to direct it and film it, but Warner’s decided they had bigger things, so they put the nix on that.
What was it called?
Well, I called it Beach Blanket Creature, and it got changed to Rock Monster—I think it was better as Beach Blanket Creature.
Well, maybe we can push for its production.
Yeah, if there’s an aspiring filmmaker out there with a ton of money backing them, I’ve got the script. It’s set in the ’60s, though.
If you can just get Lady Gaga in on it, then the money will come.
She can direct it. I don’t care.
Are you coming around here anytime soon?
Actually, I’m scheduled to do like a big dance party thing at a club in Providence, with my friend Tom Yaz DJing. He’s incredible, I mean, if you’ve ever been to the Crown & Anchor and seen the video room, it’s hysterical. He’s a genius when it comes to incorporating music with video so that you can either dance to it or watch it.
When is that?
In December. It’ll be worth the trip to beautiful Providence.
All right, well, best of luck, and… Merry Christmas, I suppose.
Yeah, Merry Christmas! I’m gonna have to change my cell phone, my voice mail, to “Merry Christmas everybody!””
The Superions Destination Christmas can be found at a record store near your, through iTunes or at www.thesuperions.com or www.fanaticrecords.com. The videos (a big part of the appeal), including “Fruitcake,” “Who threw that Ham at Me?” and “Totally Nude Island” can be seen on YouTube.
