Eugene weekly., April 01, 2004, Page 28, Image 28

SWIZZLE 2004
T o y s a r e U s Too Late
LOCAL ART BAND REALLY PLAYS. BY HELEN SHUMACHER
EUGENE’S LATE-NIGHT ACTION COMES UP SHORT. BY KARMAN RATLIFF
a
I
bout a year ago, while
enrolled in a class on digital
video and audio, Mary
Rasmussen, an art student at the
University of Oregon, began to take an
interest in the work of John Cage. It
was while learning about Cage and his
ideas on the art of noise that a toy leaf
blower from Value Village inspired
Rasmussen to start a band.
She shared her idea for a band with
several friends at Max’s Tavern, and
that night The Playskool Fools and
The Noisy Toys featuring the
Weightlifter became Eugene’s only
band that plays children’s toys instead
of guitars. Even though most songs
include a keyboard and programmed
beats, the sounds made from second-
hand plastic toys are the main element
of the band’s music.
The line-up has changed a couple of
times due to members moving away,
but the Noisy Toys currently consists
of Rasmussen, Nathan Hazard, Liz
Lessner, Timothy Cooke, Alexis
Stevens and Judah Switzer who goes
by “The Weightlifter” and commonly
graces the stage in a pair of American
flag patterned spandex shorts.
Because the Noisy Toys is made up
. . . second-hand plastic
toys are the main element
of the band’s music.
mostly of art students instead of musi-
cians, the band takes a more perform-
ance-based approach to their shows,
which they describe as a danceable
combination of design and improv, or
a post-apocalyptic Fleetwood Mac.
“We want to keep the element of
art really apparent,” Rasmussen said.
“Every aspect of what we do is about
design, from flyers to costumes.”
Each Noisy Toys show is different
because the performances are catered to
the venue. When they opened up for
Tracy and the Plastics last fall in the
EMU fishbowl at the university, the
band wore service outfits and hairnets to
match their cafeteria type surroundings.
“The aim is to create something total-
ly new every time,” Rasmussen said.
Future plans for the band include a
tour and producing a music video for
each of their songs, and maybe even
an album. The Playskool Fools and the
Noisy Toys can next be seen playing at
the Tiny Tavern on April 24.
ew
t's 3:36 am on a Sunday morning, and I
am slouched over in a tan plastic booth
in the back of an all night diner. Staring
at my tepid appetizer combo, I retrace
in my head the night’s activities that led me
to this booth in Shari’s Restaurant: I had ran
out of money to drink at the bar, then found
myself at a house party. A quick stop at a
convenience store for more beer, then, sud-
denly, I was here.
Frankly, it’s unsurprising, because at
this hour in Eugene, there aren’t a lot of
better places to be. My options? There’s
your run of the mill corporate diner, where
at any hour of the day you’ll notice that
every food item is mysteriously the same
color. Or I could head over to Dunkin’
Donuts and discover the secrets of the jelly
donut. I could take myself down into the
underground world of porn stores, where
it’s safe to say no one will look you in the
eye (unless they’re just there to buy nitrous
oxide whip-its). The strip clubs closed a
half hour ago, but if I make a mad dash, I
bet I could still make it to Pita Pit before it
closes at 4 am.
Instead, here I am watching as an
exhausted woman with a monotone voice
named Connie tops off my coffee mug, even
though I haven’t touched it in at least ten
minutes. I begin to peel the breading off of
my seasoned chicken finger and submerge it
in sauce, meanwhile striking up a conversa-
tion with the waitress.
“Have you had a busy night? What time
do you get to go home?” I ask.
“I get off at six.”
She clearly has other things to be doing
than talking to me. At the next table, an
entire family, baby in tow, devours the last
bits of their toast and French fries (all the
same color) acting as if it’s perfectly normal
for them to be sitting here at this hour. I con-
tinue asking about the regular clientele at
Shari’s at nearly four a.m.
Connie surrenders to me and stops mov-
ing momentarily, staring at me as she
explains that the majority of the late night
customers have but one common bond:
drunkenness.
“What’s the most exciting thing that has
ever happened to you while working?” I
ask, hoping to ignite a spark of conversa-
tion.
“Well, I don’t know,” she replies impa-
tiently. “Last night we had two ladies sitting
in different booths who ended up throwing
coffee at each other. That’s about it.”
I continue searching for nightlife until
dawn approaches, but only drunks and
bums, cops and graffiti writers are awake at
this time. Defeated, I head home.
ew
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8 APRIL 1, 2004 SWIZZLE
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