Express Yourself

A Band Called Shitty

We were bad. That was the point.

Davy Carren
Human Parts
Published in
9 min readJul 15, 2020

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The band onstage. The bassist is almost naked; the drummer is shirtless & wearing a balaclava, raising his sticks in the air.
Shitty, circa 1996. Photo courtesy of Davy Carren

I was in a band called Shitty. It all started at the Huntington Beach Library in Orange County, California — I’d guess around late 1995 or early ’96. I’d grabbed the mic between bands one night, claiming I was going to read a poem to all the emo kids in the audience. Of course, they were very excited to hear a lugubrious poem that would give them a chance to cry. Instead, they got me dashing off a sarcastic bit of dry humor about having consensual sex with a cow in a field. The last line was something like, “And then I left. The cow was alone again, yet satisfied.” There was a great amount of shock and horror and even some literal jaw-dropping after I’d finished. The drummer for the band going on next hit his cymbal. And I stood there for a moment while the crowd grumbled and shuffled their feet in an uncomfortable bit of stalled quiet.

But a few folks there that night loved it. One was named Mike, and he was famous for swinging naked around the library’s flagpole during the shows. (Streakers running around outside the library during shows wasn’t as uncommon as you might imagine, but the flagpole swinging added a classy guise to it.) I had admired his tenacity of spirit and asked if he’d like to be in my band. He agreed, but considering that I didn’t play any instruments, it…

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