Rusty Saber: Modern musical groups pull names from bizarre places

Joe McAdoo is former chairman of the communication department at Drury University.

It is a question that intrigues me: When today's graduates return many years hence for high school class reunions, will they gather around a piano singing songs popular when they were in school? Not likely. Since the piano will have no electric cord, they might not be able to figure out how to get music out of it.

Besides, I can't help but wonder how nostalgic these middle-aged adults will feel about blending their voices to croon ditties from their high school days; you know, ditties like "Walking Through Barbed Wire" by the immortal Papa Roach. What sort of name is Papa Roach?

Other possible reunion scenarios might find the alumni gathered around a computer, downloading pirated CDs from the Internet. Or they might gather around a disc jockey at a turntable, manipulating records to achieve some sort of continuous beat that will sound like something akin to music, assuming a diverse definition of music.

Truth be told, I can't visualize reunion goers getting all nostalgic over the music from their school days. The "assumed" names of the performers may not be nostalgia enticers to tomorrow's adults. Forget the lack of musical quality, concentrate on the artists' names. Eminem and Vanilla Ice have been big stars. Can other "sweet tooth" groups, such as Gellie Bellez, Rhezus Pizes or Arange Slush, be far behind?

I confess my ignorance, I have never figured out the sociological ramifications underlying the names today's musical stars give themselves. I mean, what in the name of Elvis Presley can be made of such memorable stars as Public Enemy, Dashboard Confessional, Thursday (that leaves 6 week-days still unused), Saves the Day, Weezer, Linkin Park, Bow Wow Wow and Twisted Sister? Literally hundreds of equally unexplainable names find their way to the hit charts; which may explain the growing number of radio stations playing hits from the past.

Yet another intriguing question comes to mind: What would the great performers of yesterday have done had they been forced to assume goofy names in order to appeal to young music fans? I would like to believe they wouldn't have stooped to taking on names like Nastyboy Klich or C Murder. I'm trying to visualize a time when top 10 pop hits would have included, let's say, "Strangers in the Night," not by Frank Sinatra, but his stage name Shakeur Booties, "Ya Dig" by C Murder and "Gangstas Paradise' by Coolio. Not in my worst nightmare (no, that's not the name of a rock group) can I imagine such a travesty.

But what if the greats of yesterday created goofy names like those of today? What name would Nat "King'' Cole have assumed? In keeping with the kingly nature of his real life nickname, he might have been Royal Purple or Regal Fleegle. Relaxed Perry Como might have found success as Kouch Phatato. Aretha Franklin, who began as a gospel singer, could have been Psalm Psinger. Then, maybe not!

Under today's rules, groups like the Ames Brothers couldn't use a family name. They would need a name no one would understand. How about Momz 4 Boyz?

Likewise, Simon and Garfunkle couldn't have used their own names. U. Itch n' I. Scratch might have done the trick. How does this grab you? "The Sounds of Silence" by U. Itch n' I. Scratch?

Happily, the musical giants at a time when there were musical giants did not have to adopt absurd names and sing asinine songs. However, today, the need for new numskull names is constant. With no further ado, Rusty Saber (a good name for a rock group?) offers the following as the names for some of tomorrows super stars: Finger in the Throat, The Upchucks, Blocked Artery, Blood Vessel, Stuck Hogz, Noze Bleed, Punk Funk, Fried Peaze, Utter Devastation. Look for their CDs; coming soon to a music store near you.