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| People are usually standoffish when
they hear our name," admits Snot
guitarist Mike Doling, "but not
after they see us. We can get
serious and tear your head off, but
we also make fun of everybody,
including ourselves. I mean, when
you have a name like Snot ... "
Singer Lynn Strait agrees: "Our
subject matter is either pissed off
or funny; there's no in-between."
Guitarist Sonny Mayo calls the band
"a hardcore lounge act." In late
spring 1995, after years of playing
in Santa Barbara, Calif.-based
groups notable for frowns and fury,
Doling decided it was time to get a
band together just for fun, to play
garage parties. Thus the name Snot,
a product of kidding around. "We
never thought we'd go as far as we
have," says Doling. "We figured,
who would take us seriously? Who
would sign a band called Snot?" But
Snot began to get a huge response
locally, and when they played
venues in Los Angeles, audiences
lined up around the block. In June
1996, little more than a year after
the band formed, they were signed
to Geffen Records. Get Some
(released May 13, 1997) is Snot's
debut album; it was recorded in
North Brookfield, Mass., in October
and November of 1996 and produced
by T-Ray (House of Pain, Helmet).
All of the Snots have paid their
dues in underground bands. Doling
was in the West Coast speed metal
outfit Kronix; Strait played bass
in the punk band Lethal Dose. On
the East Coast, Mayo was in
Silence, a thrash meta ensemble.
He later joined bassist John
Fahnestock and drummer Jamie Miller
in M.F. Pit Bulls. Doling formed
Snot - of which he and Strait are
the only original members - after
Kronix was buried in the grunge
avalanche. Music runs in Doling's
family: His father was a bassist
whose credits include Motown
records and Johnny Mathis albums.
Strait was born in Manhasset, N.Y.,
but landed in Santa Barbara as a
teen and immediately embraced the
SoCal punk scene. Prior to his work
with Snot, he had never sung in a
band. "I always wanted to because
it seemed like a lot of fun," he
says. "But I wasn't into what most
bands were playing." Starting from
scratch,Strait points out, has been
an advantage. "There's nobody to
emulate. I won't say what I do is
groundbreaking, but some of it is
original; there are weird patterns
in my vocals, because I got to make
up my style as I went along."
Fahnestock, meanwhile (who hails
from Chambersburg, Pa.), had played
guitar since he was 11 and was
playing clubs at 16. But when a
friend, Shannon Larkin, the drummer
in Wrath Child (later Souls at
Zero), needed a bass player for his
Kiddie Porn side project,Fahnestock
volunteered. (Colorful aside:
Fahnestock's father is a part-time
professional wrestler known as John
Magnum.) Not long afterward, Larkin
invited Fahnestock to join him in
yet another side project, M.F. Pit
Bulls. Mayo later became a Pit Bull,
too. Washington, D.C.-born Mayo
played viola in grade school before
turning to the saxophone. "Then I
heard Metallica's Kill 'Em All and
that was the end of that," he says.
He switched to guitar, hooking up
with M.F.Pit Bulls after his tenure
in Silence. The Bulls subsequently
landed a deal with an indie label.
But then Ugly Kid Joe offered
Larkin their drummer slot, he moved
west, and M.F. Pit Bulls were
consigned to limbo. At the time,
Ugly Kid Joe were recording with
producer Garth Richardson (Rage
Against the Machine), who heard
Snot's demo and liked what he heard.
But he felt Doling should revamp the
band. So the guitarist enlisted
Larkin , who in turn called
Fahnestock. About this time, Mayo
was also looking for something new.
"Everyone was doing the heavy, deep,
low thing," he says, "and it was
boring me. I was praying for a
call." When it came, Strait
announced with a laugh, "We want
metal." Answered Mayo: "You called
the right place." That spring, Mayo
and Fahnestock drove 65 hours from
Pennsylvania in a 1981 Celica with
a 4x8 trailer attached. "We hauled
ass," says Mayo, "except going
uphill; that was about 20 miles an
hour." When they arrived in Santa
Barbara, the first thing Doling
said was, "Wanna go jam?" It was
two in the morning. Still, says
Mayo, "It flowed. I knew we had to
do this." Miller replaced Larkin in
May 1996, solidifying the Snot
lineup. A Baltimore native, he too
comes from a family of musicians.
At 13 he was playing drums and
guitar, lying about his age so he
could join bar bands. He later
toured the country with the alter-
native punk band Mary Suicide,
which once played on a bill with
M.F. Pit Bulls. The Pit Bulls were
so impressed with Miller, in fact,
that they asked him to become their
drummer. Then, when Bulls singer
Larkin headed west to join Ugly Kid
Joe, Miller took his place as drum-
mer in Souls at Zero. Its demise
led him to Snot - and sleeping on
the couch in the house shared by
Doling, Strait and Fahnestock.
"Even from what I heard on the
early tapes, I knew the band was
unique," Miller says."It's hard and
punk, but there's also a light side.
Too many bands are too dark and mys-
terious." And though their songs
promote individual freedoms (as
evidenced on "Snooze Button"), Snot
doesn't beat audiences over the head
with a message. "All these L.A.
bands have causes," sneers Strait,
who serves as the band's lyricist.
"If we have a message, it's to not
take yourself too seriously. All we
are is politically incorrect. We
like eatin' steaks." For his part,
though, Marvyn Mack did take Snot
seriously; Mack, Geffen Records'
head of urban promotion, brought
the band to A&R exec Wendy Goldstein,
who signed them to the label.
Nabbing a record contract was a dream
come true for some of his mates, but
Strait was underwhelmed by the
development. His response:"Yeah, now
I can order cheese on my Whopper."
Actually, while his bandmates were
signing on the dotted line, he was
finishing a month in County Jail,
where he'd spent a year in the early
'90s. "There's a layer of filth that
hides in every small town," he says.
"Santa Barbara's no exception."
Typical though it may be in this
respect, the laid-back atmosphere
that makes Santa Barbara a hot
vacation destination has played an
important role in the development
of Snot's sound. This loose vibe,
combined with righteous riffs and
heavy beats, has created a singular
groove, the band's metal and punk
fattened with a heap of funk. "Even
girls dig it," says Strait, "because
it's flavorful. It's not all hard;
you can shake your ass." As
Fahnestock puts it, "We're a mixture
of what we all grew up playing. We
ingest it - and then we blow it out
our noses." What comes out,
naturally, is Snot.
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