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- Footage of Hide Away Folk Family, recorded by Joy Farm
- Joy Farm's tape from the show
- Kansas City Star review and article on the KCTV incident
- Junction City Daily Union listing, Mar. 22, 1987
- Junction City Daily Union listing, Mar. 27, 1987
- Parody Hall listing, Apr. 1987
- Junction City Daily Union listing, Apr. 3, 1987
- Junction City Daily Union listing, Apr. 12, 1987
- Lawrence Journal-World listing, Apr. 16, 1987
- Kansas City Star listing, Apr. 17, 1987
- Junction City Daily Union listing, Apr. 17, 1987
- Hide Away Folk Family
- Don't Let's Start
- Alienation's For The Rich
- Nothing's Gonna Change My Clothes
- For Science
- (She Was A) Hotel Detective
- Kiss Me, Son Of God
They Might Be Giants
— with Psychowelders opening —
Parody Hall in Kansas City, MO
April 17, 1987 at 9:30 PM
Fan Recaps and Comments:
This show was recorded by Joy Farm Live in 1987, with the entire set fully being filmed on tape (minus the encores). The performance of Hide Away Folk Family ended up appearing on the Gigantic DVD as a bonus feature. Tickets were $4 or $3 with valid college ID.
Earlier this day, the band infamously played Kiss Me, Son Of God on KCTV, and were cut off after the "I look like Jesus" line. The event was documented in an article from the Kansas City Star in 1987:
Lili Bliss wasn't smiling. The usually pert concert host on KCTV, Channel 5, usually doesn't look too grim when she's interviewing experts on health tips or tulip bulbs. But last Friday — Good Friday — was different.
Her guests were the unpredictable New York pop music duo They Might Be Giants, in town on the second leg of its "Bring Me the Head of Kenny Rogers" concert tour. Accordionist John Linnell and guitarist John Flansburgh had told Bliss they would perform "an innocent little children's song" during their four minute segment. But they decided the seven-minute song, "The Sun Is A Mass of Incandescent Gas," was too Long.
Instead, Bluss got "Kiss Me, Son of God," a flip-sounding tune about a naughty evangelist who doesn't mind the benefits of being mistaken for Mr. Second Coming. "It was certainly a different sort of guest than what we usually have on the noon show," Bliss said later.
The Giants said they weren't really trying to blow any minds, especially their host's. "That's not what the song is about," Linnell said.
"How did she like it?" Flansburgh asked during a promotional visit to a record store that afternoon. He was dressed in a long-sleeve pajama top. Linnell wore a gold fez. Bliss said that the station had not received any complaints about "Kiss Me, Son of God," which cut to commercial just after the line: "I look like Jesus..."
"Could they hear that on the air?" Bliss said. "I wasn't quite following all the lyrics... I had had some concerns about that just because of the day that this happened on. They're obviously very creative guys."
"It might have been too harsh a reality for Lili on the thing," said a concerned Hearne Christopher Jr., the promoter of the Giants' concert Friday night at Parody Hall.
Preview of the show from the Parody Hall event calendar, Apr. 1987:
You might have seen THEY MIGHT BE GIANTS (4/17) at the Lone Star earlier this year. Two guys, props and music and incredible fun. For an unabashed opinion, ask Brian McTavish. PSYCHOWELDERS, a tight new local band will open. They are certainly worth your attention.
Preview of the show from Pitch, Apr. 1987:
They Might Be Giants is too often hung with the goofy-rock-meets-performance-art label. Yes, they do fence with loaves of French bread and lead the audience in sing-alongs using giant cue cards. And the duo does perform tunes with titles like "Youth Culture Killed My Dog" and "Put Your Hand Inside The Puppet Head." But get below the surface, beyond the guitar/accordion/rhythm box sound and the paper-mache props and you find a group that offers more for your rock and roll dollar than any other band around.
"They Might Be Giants," (Bar/None 002, $8.98 list), the band's debut album, offers 19 examples of the group's schizo-kiddie sound. At only $42¢ a song, even Bruce's mega boxset, song for song, wasn't this much of a bargain. They even have a dial-a-song service, so the unintiated can check them out before plunking down those dollars on albums or concert tickets. Call (718) 387-6962 and you get a song (usually something oter than what's on their album) and a nice little message. This dial-it service, the world's first viable alternative to radio, video and print exposure, might just change the whole complexion of the record business ... well, maybe.
The They Might Be Giants sound is an anarchic blend of styles and thoughts masquerading as light pop tunes. Children's songs, soul, country and rock all wiggle around together, creating music that's as intricate or loony as you care to make it. Accordionist Linnell explains, "I think our deepest concerns have to do with music we listened to when we were none." Most writers seem to be falling all over themselves to try and come up with a nifty little socio-political/sci-fi metaphor to accurately describe the Giants' sound. See for yourself. They Might Be Giants perform April 15 at Cogburn's in Lawrence and again April 17 at Parody Hall.
Preview of the show from the Kansas City Star, Apr. 17, 1987:
"Glib goofiness," says Spin magazine. "Irresistibly catchy," reports Rolling Stone. While the national press tries to pigeonhole the nutty musical attack of They Might Be Giants, the self contained New York duo of guitarist John Flansburgh and accordionist John Linnell just keeps on making new fans.
One thing is clear: These humorous and melodic fellows aren't merely new additions on the wacky pop-rock block. No, they've gone ahead and built their own subdivision. Linnell sees a metaphor for the Giants in the "black skull," a recent archaelogical find that is forcing scientists to rethink the family tree of creatures.
"I sort of wish we'd waited it out and named ourselves the Black Skull," Linnell says, "just because they're having trouble classifying this thing. It's pretty weird." So is They Might Be Giants, but never on purpose. The duo will rock out in strange fashion at 9:30 p.m. today at Parody Hall, 215 Main St. The Psychowelders open. The cover is $4 at the door; $3 with valid college ID.
A review of the show from the KCTV incident article
Kansas City Star, Apr. 21, 1987:
The Giants' heady mix of humor, melody and a dance beat brought out more than 300 music fans who called for four encores. One of them, "I've Got a Match—Your Embrace and My Collapse," was a synapse popping testimonial to quivering love that deserves to be on the Giants' next LP.
Flansburgh offered this advice to everyone: "It's always better to rock than it is to bum. Always. You're only cheating yourself if you don't rock.