Flying Saucer Music #11
The Fibonaccis - ca. 1982 - Joe Berardi, John Dentino, Ron Stringer, Maggie Song
The Fibonaccis remain my favorite Los Angeles band of the 1980s. Their intellectual art-rock appealed to me in a way the punk bands of the era never could. Don’t get me wrong, I still love the old Fear, TSOL, X, Germs and etc tracks, but the frustration and anger from these bands were born in the back of the brain, while the “Fibs’” lyrics and music came from the frontal lobes. Their unique mix of influences, including heavy doses of Nino Rota, Ennio Morricone, and Kurt Weill sounds like nothing before or since.
They opened for Oingo Boingo in a free show at my college auditorium in 1982. While they were practically booed off the stage, I stood and clapped while guitarist Ron Stringer waved and smiled back, thankful that there was one person in the hall who “got” their message. Looking back, I probably didn’t understand exactly what was going on, but the seed was planted, and I was privileged to see them live three more times before their untimely breakup in 1987 or ‘88. Former member and main songwriter John Dentino maintains an excellent site for the band and various projects he has been involved with for the last few years.
This week’s featured song remains my favorite post-1960s tune about the UFO subject. The lyrics betray an almost SETI-like attitude about contact, but come back to the rescue in the best excluded-middle-like fashion decrying the wish for science to answer the unanswerable. For those who can’t make out all of the lyrics, I’ve transcribed them for you:
Waiting for the message to come
A handshake from deepest space
Pressing to the headset all night
For aliens’ faintest breath
Hoping for a biped to come
Untangling human doubt
Searching through the static all night
For signals that make some sense
Will they tell whatever the pyramids meant?
Did we evolve or were our chromosomes sent?
Will they find our brainpans a fraction too small?
Do the labyrinths we’ve created lead nowhere at all?
Here we are in Mississippi
Tracking down a swamp gas saucer
Television cameras glowing
Somewhere in the middle of a prarie on a summer night
The neighbors gather ’round, hoping for a sign
When the moon casts dark shadows
When the men of conscience weaken
When the preachers spread their panic
Armageddon draws us near its gaping mouth
And whispers that the universe isn’t benign
Crashing though a telephone booth
To put in a call to Christ
Looking for a sign in the sky
Ezekiel’s wheels on high
Waiting for a savior to come to rescue us from the brink
Quoting from the scientist’s logs
Defending our oldest wish
Tiny needle in a haystack
Are the signals weak and garbled?
Conjuring its myths and dreaming
Somewhere in the middle of the galaxy a capsule floats
Boasting the image of man
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Mar 23 2007 
March 24th, 2007 at 5:49 pm
The Fibonaccis are bitchin, dude.
March 29th, 2007 at 12:02 pm
thanks again! hadn’t heard
Fibonaccis- very interesting.
saw Oingo Boingo about 82/3…
March 30th, 2007 at 10:54 am
chaos and mouse,
Check out their “best of” CD, which is out of print but readily available on ebay for not too much $$.
May 3rd, 2007 at 5:53 pm
Greg, not bad, but it’ll never beat Generals In Dreamland’s,
“Hitchhikers of the universe/extend your cosmic thumb/In case the ride ain’t free/keep your other hand over your b*m!”