In 1988, a man named Shawn Reynolds had a dream.  That dream was to change his name to "Milo" and start a band.  Hondo (II) in hand, fork in bandanna, he recruited a guy named Joe, a fella named Jim ("Booch"), and an angry young man named Ron "Cover Me" Wedge.  This was Better Than Cats.  The "A" in "Cats" was usually written with an "anarchy" symbol.  In an era of Guns 'n' Roses cover bands and Swatches, Better Than Cats rose above the sorry competition.  At least until bassist Ron stopped showing up after the first rehearsal and started wearing a very puffy leather jacket with lots of zippers on it.  Bassless, Shawn set out on a search.  His Grail Quest-like journey ended with Tom "Cole" Church, a man uniquely qualified for the job, seeing as he had a bass guitar.   Spawning such original songs as "I Wanna Work at KMart", "Get Off My Girl" and a memorable blues interpretation of U2's "I Will Follow", BTC managed to both expand on pop ideology while vigorously injecting a hot load of original thought into their compositions. Shawn, on a political bend, penned the socially conscious "M.A.D. (Mutually Assured Destruction)".   It mentioned Margaret Thatcher.  When questioned regarding what the hell he knew about Margaret Thatcher anyway, he dropped the idea.  Tom, meanwhile, furiously filled his otherwise unused school notebooks with such classics as "What Rhymes with Penguin?", "Grandma is a Galactic Guardian", and the ubiquitous "Surf Mom".

Bowie and Eno's use of cut-and-paste soon became an evident influence on Tom's lyrical output.  Using a modified TI-99/4A to automatically randomize his already meaningless song lyrics, Tom's share of songwriting contribution within the band grew, despite the strong resemblance of his songs to the text adventure "Pirate Island". Following their first tour in the summer of 1989, the foursome decided a more sophisticated sound was in order.   In an effort to broaden their sound, BTC attempted to enlist the aid of Eddie Van Halen disciple Steve "E-Ray" Kluczkiewicz.  After one failed rehearsal of a guitar solo-heavy version of "Blitzkrieg Bop", the band takes time to re-evaluate it's mission.  Steve goes back to his room, where it is rumoured he still waits.

Dateline: 1990.  With the return of Jim behind the kit, (though he never actually left, he had merely been left standing next to it) and Shawn now undertaking the vocal responsibilities due to the loss of Joe Kluczeweicz to graduation, the newly-christened Disposables become a tight power trio.  Tom, left with no choice but to play bass, plays bass.

Their one release under this name, The Indispensable Disposables Collection (NRK-J19), included the songs "The Irish Drinking Song" and "The Overall Song".   It's the Rap Song (YO-012), a vinyl-only EP released under the pseudonyms of MC White and PUD2000 (on the now-defunct indy label YO!), was a big hit in predominantly caucasian suburbs.

Enter "Little" Josh Gilb.  Seeing the potential of the handsome little Henry Winkler as a frontman, Tom calls for the impeachment of Shawn as singer so as to be replaced with this newer, smaller person.  Following an all-night lights-out rehearsal of the first minute-and-a-half of "Debaser", the entire band, spiritually adrift, goes to shit and breaks up.

 

With Shawn intent on following a solo career, Tom and Jim try their hand at vocalizing.  With co-conspirators Matt Berube and Eddie Hearst, the boys form the short-lived vocal group Sex Buffet.   A few months later, a brief stint with Tom's old school heavy metal cohort Dana "I Can See You Through My Hat" Larocque brings temporary solution, but inevitably fails.  "Fuck you, Jay," Dana states to his brother, Jay. Enter David Coppola.  With a "Stairway to Heaven" silk tapestry hanging over his bed and a Les Paul/ Marshall combination, Little David certainly fulfilled Jim's idea of a guitarist.  "Fuckin' wicked, Dave!"  Jim is heard saying on one rehearsal tape, as he sat upon his drummer's throne.  "That was fuckin' wicked pissah!  Stylin'!" he adds. "Mmm," responds Dave.

TALLER THAN gOD is born.  Evolving into a funk/ metal hybrid the same time Living Colour, Faith No More, Jane's Addiction, and the Chili Peppers were making lots of money by being funk/ metal hybrids, the band embarked on one of the most ambitious  bandwagon- jumpings in recent musical history, with the possible exception of Bush. "I stole this riff from Mother's Milk," said Tom at one rehearsal caught on tape. "Bakata-bakata-bakata," went the bass. Indeed he had. "I'm singin' like the Stone Temple Pilots guy!   Whooaa-aaahhhaa!," sang Josh into the PA at another rehearsal caught on tape. Indeed he was. "Ha ha ha," replied the other band members, lustily dripping with greed. Nothing could stop TALLER THAN gOD's ascension to fame.  Nothing could break up this tight unit of close friends.  Nothing except liquor and chicks.  And so they broke up.

Meanwhile, under the moniker of Audio Enchilada, Tom and Josh retreated into the 4-track world. Josh picked up the guitar and became the guitarist.  Tom picked up the bass.  He had dropped it.  The duo penned such hits as "100% White Catholic American", "Nude Little Boys", "Everything's Gonna Turn Out Fuckin' Great", and "The Ballad of Bob Cardboard".  The duo demoed many blustery little rockers for Jim in an attempt to woo him back behind the kit.  To get the King back to his throne. To welcome the prodigal drummah back home.  To fulfill the prophecy of greatness the creative summit promised. Predictably, Jim thought they really blew and didn't join.

Shawn Reynolds is named as drummer for the new project. In true new-world-order-masonic-sect fashion, his real-world identity is cast away and he is renamed.  His new moniker is derived from a chocolate cookie on the bottom shelf of an All For a Dollar bin: "Fudgie". Later, he buys a drumset. The three-sided circle is completed.  It is named HAPPY. After an abortive attempt to solidify a band "sound", the trio throws all their material away and again rename themselves, this time to honor the great fighting style of Wong Fei Hong. No-Shadow Kick is birthed. Shortly thereafter, Shawn learns to play the drums.

 

The boys soon find themselves living together in the same house with a red classic car in the garage.   While Tom thinks up hair-brained inventions, Josh surfs a lot, and Shawn concentrates all of his energies on the tambourine.  The Monkees parallel is not lost on the trio.  The abode, christened the Mench Haus, soon becomes the meeting place of many bohemian creative-types.  Many wild parties are thrown, as is some fine pottery.  Humorous things are stuck to the refrigerator door, and many videotapes are rented.  Much macaroni and cheese is consumed, and many "Peanuts" cartoons are read.  The bathroom is periodically cleaned. It is in this environment that Chris Chen, ardent supporter of the band and head of BlueFX Records, finds the trio, disenfranchised and slightly out of shape.  Especially Josh. Under the motherly wing of Chen the concept that is Basement Make-Out Party is realized.

BMOP was released to great local acclaim.  At the CD release party, many copies were sold to the eager public, hungry for songs without strumming.  Promos were freely dispersed to friends and family as the local press gradually began to mention No-Shadow Kick in their annual lists of Local Bands That Might Be As Big As The Pixies, Or At Least Dinosaur Jr. No-Shadow Kick plays several shows, easily doubling the number of engagements of the previous tour.  They opened for the Bob Marley's Wailers, though no one could ascertain how or why that happened.  They shared the stage with the likes of Sonic Youth, Toots and the Maytals, and Marconi Beach the Human Beatbox.  Soon, however, dust settled on the CDs that still sat unpurchased in the consignment bins of local music stores.  Radio promos surfaced in dumpsters outside radio stations and gig posters were soon covered over.  Stickers became saturated with rainwater, got all pulpy, and the sun bleached them clean.

Shortly before his eventual disappearance in 2001, Josh embarked on a Jack Kerouac-esque journey across America.  There he found a future wife and a deer embedded in his windshield.  Then he sort of quit the band and moved to Boston. Shawn crawled out from behind the drumkit and was blessed with a few solo hits, most noteably a score for the Disney adaptation of Beastmaster.  Tom moved to Easthampton, MA and for one full year devoted himself to a strict discipline of eating free roasted peanuts at The Brass Cat.

Shawn and Tom reconvened in late 2001 to mix some of the final sessions recorded in the Mench Haus rehearsal space, and along with a new Christmas song, they cobbled together a holiday treat for the kids - The Promo EP. According to some sources, the newly invigorated No-Shadow Kick gained somewhere between two and five new fans from this wildy successful project. As Shawn effortlessly switched back to guitar (smartly deciding to buy one that worked) and Tom sadly took over most of the vocal duties, a new drummer was added to the mix. The Sturgis Sessions - as they are now known - went great until Sturgis subtracted himself from the mix. Once added back into the mix, Sturgis revealed himself to be an accomplished drinker and occasional musician. In 2003, as this is being written by an unidentified third party, No-Shadow Kick puts the finishing touches on their recording space and prepare to embark on yet another multi-copy selling album project.

 

For the outstanding artistic achievement of Basement Make-Out Party and The Promo EP, No-Shadow Kick is awarded with their very own title card in cutout bins across America.  "The Saviour Made Me Do It" is featured in the 2009 retro-nineties high school film Let's Fuck.  Tom makes a comeback cameo appearance as Mr. Styposky, The Gym Teacher, where he delivers the famous and oft-quoted line: "Get that thing out of your shorts, Parker!".  A remix of "Let It Go" appears on Volume 19 of 2011's Totally 2000 retro compilation.  Young girls sing along with it as they drive around in their old Volvos and Saabs, and after that, No-Shadow Kick joins Wall of Voodoo and Tribe in that sad and lonely place where no one ever visits, ever, and is soon forgotten.

In the end, there was an impulse.