Hello, my name is Erik, and I’m a Faith No More fanboy.

Rather than enter a 12-step program like my family insisted (how they expect me to soothe my Faith No More fanboydom in a mere 12 steps I’ll never know), I’ve learned to embrace it. Yes, I play air guitar in my underwear to “We Care A Lot” when mom and dad are out of town. Yes, some guy in New York walked up to me and told me that my long hair looked “pretty Epic.” Yes, I want it all… and I insist on having it.

While most of the Faith No More alumni have remained in the spotlight, forming new bands and touring regularly since the breakup, 25+15 year-old bassist Bill Gould has been holed away, invisible to most passersby – but we found him. Actually he was right under our noses, so we didn’t have to look too hard. To our surprise, he was neither knee-deep in a pit of Quaaludes and whippets, nor was he wearing an afro wig and aquarium platform shoes playing the tambourine in one of the San Francisco cover band scene’s many “best kept secrets.” As the man responsible for creating bass lines so memorable that they’d make you forget how “Another One Bites The Dust” goes, Bill now plays the role of record company mogul at his very own indie label, Kool Arrow.

But that’s not to say that Bill isn’t writing music anymore. He recently left Brujeria (a.k.a. the best Mexican death metal band ever) and was rumored to be involved in a project with Whit Crane (Ugly Kid Joe, Life of Agony, Medication and a primary source of inspiration for Perfect Pitch contributor Gregg Turkington). What’s he doing now, you ask? Inquiring minds and perverts want to know, you say? There’s only one way to find out, and that’s by clicking here. No, not there. Here. And for those who like dirty laundry, Bill even offered a comment on our July interview with former Faith No More guitarist Trey Spruance. For the record, we love both Bill and Trey equally. But we also love big ladles so we can stir even bigger pots of shit.

Also, we have a brand new Jennifer Leggio, and her name is Managing Editor. We can’t afford to pay her, but we gave her a ton of company stock instead. If you happen to notice that the editorial is starting to look a little more coherent, intelligent and what’s-the-word-for-articulate, then you know who deserves the blame. (Hint: It’s her.)

Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to chase this shot of Jager down with a nice cold bottle of “Midlife Crisis.” Enjoy.

Ninety-five cents – fuck you, I’ll skate to the beach,
Erik Fong

Now playing: Fishbone - "Sunless Saturday"