#1 - Their drummer is a mannequin. Yes, they actually travel with a mannequin and a drum kit. I first heard them on a radio show and they had even set up the drummer in the radio's studio. Her name is Chuckles and they've invented a biography for her. It's a little absurd but you have to admire their dedication/persistence.
#2 - I bought their CD directly from them and they threw in a bunch of stickers and a button (of Chuckles the drummer). You should do the same -- the album (also called Last Star Shining) is great -- available at their Web site.
#3 - Great music. Boy-Girl harmonies. Raw, often hard-rocking, but very melodic and upbeat. (Does it get any more upbeat than covering the Cat Stevens song If You Want To Sing Out, Sing Out?) This will be meaningless to just about everyone, but they remind me of a harder-edged Joy Zipper. (That's high praise from me -- Joy Zipper are one of my all-time favorite completely unknown bands.)
Deseret Morning News October 2007
"Bassist/vocalist Jen Garrett and guitarist/vocalist Will Troy of the band Stuporhero love loud punk rock. But when they decided to start their fourth band together, they wanted to do something a little different..." read more here
Abe Beeson - KEXP December 2006
“Zombies on Parade from the debut CD by local pop outfit Stuporhero is one of the best songs of 2006.”
The Stranger June 2006
Blissfully wedded bands such as Mates of State and Viva Voce surely have given new meaning to the phrase, "A couple that plays together, stays together." Local till-death-do-us-part duo Will Troy and Jen Garrett, collectively known as Stuporhero, take the indie-rock duo "awww" factor to 11. The pair just released their debut record, It Would Be Nice to Wake Up, which is loaded with fuzzy, lo-fi garage rock hooks, and is played with such charming vocal interplay that the chemistry between the two is palpable. DANA BOS
Salt Lake City Weekly May 2006
It Would Be Nice To Wake Up and find Stuporhero in your kitchen, frying eggs and singing a cappella versions of their debut album's delicious pop-rock. Maybe "Bill the Bookworm" or "Little Dipper", songs that bring to mind early-'90s college-radio jams prizing fuzz over perfection, quirky narratives over predictable verse-chorus-repeat. It would be also cool to chill with a husband and wife who are never without honorary third member, Chuckles, a thrift-store mannequin that seems to be an integral part of their oh-so-appealing sound. If the TV show Today's Special freaked you out, this might be one to miss. Otherwise, it's probably just as nice to spend the night with Stuporhero.
Chuckles in the Modern Drummer Blog - August 2007
Sitting here by limelight, I drift back over the decades of percussive pursuits in an effort to help me understand how the hell I got here. It’s been weeks since I moved my lips, but that’s the price of rock and roll perfection. I love this crazy ride, never knowing where rock will take me: higher levels of consciousness, higher levels of insanity, perhaps? It’s all in the journey, and so far my journey has taken me around this crazy world and back again, to my current state of “rock princess in waiting.”
It was back in the Tea Party Massacre days that Acey Black first coined the phrase: “Rock till you S---!” That’s the mantra I live and breathe by. It’s not enough to rock a new city; you have to leave it in flames! Only when you wake up after a four-day binge, tasting the orange juice and battery acid cocktails burping back up, can you truly say, you have rocked and been rocked.
I’ve gone through several kits throughout my stint as a drummer, not to mention the collection of rare and exotic instruments I’ve acquired throughout my worldly travels. My first kit was an old CB700 student kit, which I thoroughly and often destroyed, maimed, and sacrificed to the gods of rock. I soon graduated to an early 90’s Yamaha Maple Custom, with 8-ply maple shells, 24x30 bass drum, toms 12x12, 14x12, 16x16, and 18x18, and an old Wurlitzer 6-inch steel student model snare drum, circa 1940s, I found on the side of the road in Barstow, CA, while ferverently searching for Harry Partch’s mythic guard rail of hitch-hiker confessions. I had swallowed too much of the dandelion tea, and in a fit of psychedelic exuberance, I ran full speed at what I thought was Buddy Rich smiling at me in a cloud, and tripped on a curb, breaking three teeth and acquired an eight-inch strip of asphalt burn; the scab eventually healed, but I wear a band-aid to this day on my knee to hide my drug-addled shame.
In the Tea Party Massacre sessions, Acey was always encouraging me to step out of the traditional rock status quo that had been established in the early 90s. Always a stylist, Acey was more interested in the complete sonic spectrum, not just the sum of its parts. I was fully engrossed in expanding my kit beyond the realm of human decency, making Alex Van Halen’s “1984” set-up look like an Erector set, but Acey encouraged me to simplify. In an effort to suit the taste of the British Horror Folk scene, I switched out my drums to a slightly smaller Ayotte kit, all wood hoops, and a beautiful Pearl Brass Snare, 14x6.5 with free-floating lugs. I switched from my trusted Paiste Rude series cymbals to my latest obsession, vintage Constantinople Zildijian K’s. What this translated into was a drum sound as loud as piss; we were repeatedly shut down by local authorities for what the press reported as numerous violations of the United Nations Bill of Human Rights, but when Acey mysteriously disappeared in late 2001, the charges mysteriously vanished as well.
I hung up my sticks and went on walkabout for 28 months, slipping into a waking coma of booze, zombie fetish, and Vaseline toast, and fate would have me land in a Portland, OR pawn shop. This was just as Stuporhero began to form up in Seattle; while I still don’t know if Will and Jen had caught wind of my exploits as England’s most wanted rock and roll fugitive, or whether they thought I had “the look,” next thing I know I’m caught up in the big rock machine again. This time around, the Stuporhero staff really want to push the “mannequin” image, so a great deal of my time is spent developing the chops I need to lay down what’s needed for the song, without moving a muscle. It really helps that Will is such a mastermind with the Boss DR-770; it’s a great alternative to having to move my arms in order to play the drums.
Currently I’m sitting behind my catalog-ordered “Muppet Babies” model drumset; since I don’t move anymore, it’s not as important that the kit be ergonomically suited for my body type, nor do I need any pedals; that’s great, because now I can wear pretty skirts to the gigs and don’t have to worry about getting sweaty or tearing a seam in my hose. Jen and I are really into the whole “image” portion of the band’s identity, so we spend a good 20 minutes a week perusing the Goodwill racks for classy new outfits I can sport on the next gig. I’ve got a lot more free time, which enables me to dedicate more time to my side projects, such as drinking whiskey and champagne cocktails, brawling in my local fight club, and lying about on the floor. I’m thrilled to be part of a project that lets me really be me, a lifeless mannequin with a taste for the slightly macabre and for the slightly mundane. But, hey, that’s what rock music is really all about: there’s a little something for everyone. Thanks, Modern Drummer, for giving me a forum to share a little insight, a little heartbreak, and hopefully, a little wisdom to the drummers out there, seeking to break into this image-obsessed, highly competitive world of mannequin drummers.
Bill Morse - WRBC Music Director
"Funny, clever, crafty, and rockin' - just fabulous."
Dana - Three Imaginary Girls
"My new local music crush, Stuporhero, play fuzzy garage pop loaded down with hooks."
Bella - Super Fan (6 years old)
"I love Stuporhero...I love it SO much!"
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