Flock of Doug

All evidence to the contrary, I didn’t just eat while home in Minneapolis. No, no, that was only 90% of my trip. I did other things, like visit the new Walker, go to the art fair, and take in some rocking local music. My music maven friend took me to a CD release party down on the Left Bank. The band was Flock of Doug and the CD was Wish I Were Here (which, heh) and as I sipped and listened, I started to scribble notes to myself after which I rushed over to buy the CD and I came home inspired.

Now, I won’t try to make with the music metaphors here because Music Maven is really the genius in that department, but I will say that I loved what I heard. Pinches of old Paul Westerberg with a bit of Screaming Trees folded into a base of totally unique sound, made for a great gig and a fantastic album. Although I think I know enough about music to recognize what I like, it was really the lyrics that got me excited. I started picking up on all these food references in the songs and it wasn’t until I studied the liner notes that I realized just how stuffed with victuals Wish I Were Here actually is. For instance, from “You Smell Nice”:

You must come from planet wonderful
Or I suppose you might come from planet really nice
Yes, you’re like basmati rice.

listen to Flock of Doug’s song “You Smell Nice”

The unexpectedness of the comparison cracked me up because it’s also so true. I mean, basmati rice has a very distinct fragrance and it’s really quite flattering to be told one smells like that. But I’m a food freak, so being told I smell like cheese is also a compliment in my book. In another song, Flock of Doug is saying “I wanna be your food bank…You explode like popcorn” and “I wanna check your body temperature/I’ve got a meat thermometer.” Two of my absolute favorite Flock of Doug food references are “You melt away like softening butter/I feel like the egg left in the pan un-fried” and “You must taste like icing on a finger.” That last one in particular got to me because he’s not talking about whipped cream, chocolate, cherries or the other rather clichéd foodstuffs one might lick off a lover — icing on a finger is a totally different idea, but at the same time, it’s comfortable, accessible, and gets my mental tastebuds flowing.

There’s another song, “Osama Bin Enron,” which, in this political climate, is cathartic to listen to in a hysterically depressing sort of way. It got my normally tepid blood boiling when I heard the sample of Bush’s voice saying, “If it feels good, jes’ go ahead and do it” break into the middle of the song, but I still whoop it up and sing along, “Osama Bin Laden, you made a village idiot look presidential.”

Keep an eye on this space because Flock of Doug is rumored to be perching at the Elbow Room sometime soon.

Flock of Doug 30 June,2005Stephanie Lucianovic

  • Matthew

    Your liking the idea of being told you smell like cheese reminds me of Queen’s ‘A Night at the Opera’ – you call me sweet like I’m some kind of cheese. When I first heard that song, I had only ever tasted bland American Jack and Cheddar cheeses and had no idea what Freddie meant… it actually prompted me to branch out and explore the wonders of the cheese world and I’ve never looked back. Mmmm… cheese.


Stephanie Lucianovic

A former picky eater, Stephanie V.W. Lucianovic is a writer, editor, and lapsed cheesemonger in the San Francisco Bay Area. A culinary school grad with an English lit degree, she has written for CNN.com, MSNBC.com, Popular Science, The New York Times, The Washington Post, and The Boston Globe. Additionally, she has been writing for KQED’s Bay Area Bites since its inception and is the website editor for KQED’s Emmy-award winning show “Check, Please! Bay Area.”

Stephanie was an original recapper at Television Without Pity and worked on a line of cookbooks for William-Sonoma as well as in the back kitchen of a Jacques Pépin cooking show. Her first book, SUFFERING SUCCOTASH: A Picky Eater’s Quest To Understand Why We Hate the Foods We Hate (Perigee Books, 2012) is a non-fiction narrative and a heartfelt and humorous exposé on the inner lives of picky eaters that Scientific American called “hilarious” and “the perfect popular science book for a reader that doesn’t think he or she wants to read a popular science book.”

Stephanie lives in Menlo Park with her husband, three-year-old son, assorted cats, and has been blogging at The Grub Report for over a decade.

Follow her on Twitter at @grubreport

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