When Philadelphia post-punk progenitors Bunnydrums first started making music together in January of 1980, they didn’t exactly know where they fit in. They weren’t exactly new wave, they weren’t noisy enough to be considered punk, and they were most definitely not pure funk; instead, their music contained elements of all three. Over the course of six years, they released two albums, three EPs, and contributed tracks to a slew of compilations released by labels like Terminal! and ROIR.
“There was an undeniable energy that manifested itself through our living situation, the clubs, records, record shops, cassettes, VHS tapes, live shows, movies, bookstores and magazines,” singer and guitarist David Goerk says. “It was an analog world, primitive, and it offered a bouquet of possibilities.” The group’s music is very much a reflection of that, combining mid-tempo, psych-tinged rock ‘n’ roll with dancey, poppy, synth-heavy electronic music.
According to Goerk, the idea was to create something new and different—something separate from what was going on at the time. When Goerk, bassist Greg Davis (who sadly passed away earlier this year), guitarist Frank Marr, and drummer Joe Ankenbrand first started jamming, the tools they had at their disposal were random at best, and included, “an Echoplex which could be manipulated from stage, a Korg MS-20 synthesizer, [and] a cassette deck which provided ambient loops and pulses. [We also had] a variety of stomp boxes, woodwinds, and brass, all of which had an enormous influence on our sound.”
Mixing up styles and genres with wild abandon takes nerve, but actually pulling it off takes talent. Much of the group’s skill was honed at The Funk Dungeon, a converted lamp factory in North Philadelphia that served not only as their practice space, but also as their home. As Goerk explains it, being able to practice whenever they wanted encouraged constant experimentation. During their initial run—they reunited in 2006 with a lineup of Goerk, Marr, and a new rhythm section and have continued playing on and off for a number of years—the band shared bills with everyone from Gang of Four to Bauhaus to Pere Ubu, REM, Delta 5, and the Sun Ra Arkestra. That last one proved a very particular meeting of the minds, given the Arkestra’s love of space and Bunnydrums’s science fiction obsession.
In fact, one of the biggest inspirations for the band was the work of Philip K. Dick. According to Goerk, “We developed a real thirst for [Dick’s] books, as well as others. We would sometimes discuss the books at our roundtable before rehearsals. It was a little bit like a book club.” The band members joined the Philip K. Dick Society, which sent out regular newsletters with essays and unpublished stories to its thousands of members. (Bunnydrums weren’t the only musicians with an interest in the counter-culture writer; the organization itself was founded by rock journalist Paul S. Williams, best known as the founder of Crawdaddy.)
The novels, then mostly out-of-print and much harder to find, were passed around between band members and their friends. And when Dick passed away in 1982, the band dedicated the Feathers Web 12-inch to him. “When you play with others over time, there’s a shared culture that can unfold—a collective influence that contributes to the band and its attitudes,” Goerk says. “PKD certainly played a part in defining our collective DNA and helped provide a unique bond between us.”
Their first EP, the “Win” b/w “Little Room” 7-inch, was released in 1981, followed by Feather’s Web in ‘83. PKD, their debut LP, was released by local label Red Music that same year. A second LP, Holy Moly, followed a year later on Fundamental. By 1984 they were touring Europe, playing shows across France, Belgium, and the Netherlands. Upon returning to Philadelphia they switched drummers, went on a tour stateside, added Frank Blank Moriarty of Informed Sources on a third guitar, and were set for a return trip across the pond when a contentious disagreement with their label resulted in the band deciding to break up.
Although Bunnydrums were not considered obscure when they were active—they received their fair share of both college radio airplay and press, and Feather’s Web even got a favorable writeup in Billboard—it took a compilation in the early ‘00s to introduce them to a new generation. It still translates: There’s a wild energy to the songs that screams “DIY,” something that’s both a product of its time and a reflection of what everyone was bringing to the table. To Reptile, a recording of a 1984 show the band played in the Dutch city of Wageningen, is a perfect snapshot of a band at their peak. It’s a fantastic document that showcases what these songs sounded like when played live that also serves as an excellent introduction to Bunnydrums newcomers.
Vinyl
Philadelphia in the early ‘80s was hardly considered a hotbed of DIY music—at least, not in the same way as other East Coast cities, like New York or even Washington, DC. And while that had its limitations, it also allowed musicians living there the opportunity to create freely without having to feel the weight of expectations. “There was a collective energy in the air,” Goerk recalls, “and although it was an incredibly dysfunctional community, it was uncompromising in its pursuit of expression and volume. There were a lot of bands out there, but the bands that were most interesting were the ones that defined their own path and terms. That’s what I believe we were interested in achieving—creating something that was both visceral and our own.”
