GrooveLily

Val, Eric, Fire & Riley

(Ancient History: anecdotes from pre-GrooveLily days, in no particular chronological order.)

In the early ’90s, I was living in the Washington, DC area, and I played with an up-and-coming band called Big Black Nun. It was my first experience in an original rock band; I had played music all my life, but mostly in classical orchestras, string quartets, choirs, a cappella singing groups, and one top-40 cover band which I will affectionately mock later. I had always been a musician, but I had never been even moderately cool.

I believe our images of ourselves are formed really early on; in high school, I was a knee-sock-wearing/violin-toting/hopelessly unstylish/eager-to-please/grade-skipping/chubby/sedentary girl whose mom sent the police to the beer-soaked parties I attended, thus guaranteeing that I’d never be invited back. I try to fight the fact that I still think of myself this way, 25 years later.

Val & Fire

Joining Big Black Nun (whose memorable moniker can still be found on at least three “Weirdest Band Names” sites) gave me a sudden social cachet that I had never had before. For the first time, freaky girls with black lipstick and sullen hot boyfriends who frequented warehouse raves would talk to me. I had never been to a rave, or to a warehouse of any kind other than Hechinger’s lumber store to shop for plywood with my dad.

In my memory, BBN was a quartet: on lead vocals, and lead ego, was FIRE. (I never knew his actual legal name.) Often compared to Bono, he was riveting on stage and very compelling to watch, in that extremely-sexy-while-still-being-objectively-kind-of-unattractive way that Mick Jagger has.)

On guitars, production and general levelheadedness, was RILEY. An effective foil to Fire’s volatile personality, he gently propelled the band toward practical goals, strumming his guitar from behind the long hair that perpetually hung in his face. On stand-up bass and reliable good mood was ERIC. With his model-gorgeous looks and excellent musicianship, he was often my best buddy in the band.

The Drummer

Oddly, I have no recollection of a drummer, though there is a drum set in the pictures, and one shot of an actual guy playing it. The fallibility of my own mind is staggering.

There are some aspects of my tenure with Big Black Nun that are blazingly clear in my memory, though.

1. The coolness factor that was so appealing to me when it was unattainable quickly waned into boredom and then into actual danger – first when I realized that my conversations with the freaky Goth girls and their cute boyfriends were mostly devoid of substance, and then when I got mugged at gunpoint after one of our rehearsals in a hip but scary neighborhood in DC.
2. 

   Val with her alienated haircut

   I initially thought that any criticisms my bandmates, especially Fire, launched at me were warranted. (This is another character flaw of mine – sometimes generously misinterpreted as a brave, strong openness to criticism, instead of what it really is – simple insecurity and craven desire for approval.) Fire didn’t like my voice – so I stopped singing backups. He told me I was also “not alienated enough” to be a real artist – so I tried to become more misunderstood by going to the local Tysons Corner mall and getting a weird haircut: one side significantly longer than the other, half black and half blonde. This actually looked pretty good, resulting in many compliments and a feeling of much LESS alienation than before.

3. By early 1993, I was getting ready to leave BBN, feeling that I had learned what I needed to, and that what I really wanted to do was write my own songs and start my own band with people who actually liked the way I sang…but Fire beat me to the punch. I found out that I was no longer in the band by reading an article in the Washington Times: “Big Black Nun’s sound used to be propelled by the acoustic melodies of violinist Valerie Vagoda [sic], but she has since left the group amicably.” And so I had.

As I write this, I’m having a great time searching the net to see what my former bandmates are up to. Fire is still at it, under the name Fire-Dean. He is still an electric presence, still fascinating to watch, and still someone I don’t particularly want to work with ever again. Riley McMahon has moved to our own borough of Brooklyn, and is a busy and successful producer/musician, with an impressive discography, pro studio and instrument collection. It looks like Eric Leifert is doing well also, still a stand-up guy playing stand-up bass with multiple DC-area bands.

As for the phantom drummer? He quit music long ago.

Val, Fire & Riley

Val at China Club

Riley

Fire

Black and white photos by Erika Langley
I don’t remember who took the color photos at China Club. Let me know if it was you.