Filboyd Studge


The two founding members of filboyd studge, Scott Shupe and Jim Rice began playing as a three-piece with good friend and fellow cosmonaut Thomas Priestley in the summer of 1853. Over the next century and a half, the three were able to hone their skills to the point where it was, from time-to-time, possible to begin a song and finish the same song. Riding high on the sweet tenor of the jungle cat, the then unnamed trio performed songs such as anything by Tom Petty, David Bowie's Space Oddity, and the Cure's Lullaby. Through a muddle of guest musicians including Brian Burton on keys, Tyler O'Connell on djimbae, and Adam Kennedy on mandolin, the band pressed on. Unfortunately, however, they were never able to master the beauty of Elton John's "Don't Let the Sun Go Down On Me." In a fit of rage and disgust at the lack of respect for both Sir John and the Father Figure himself, Thomas Priestley left the band for the untamed wilds of Costa Rica where he was able to regale the locals with ballads of love and love lost...

Unsure of what was to become of their emotional outlet, the remaining two troubadours remained quiet for a time following the split. The lantern was relit, however, when drummer Scott Shupe managed to dig deep within himself and find a voice that he believed others could stand hearing. The two remaining members quickly ran through "Running Down a Dream" and "Sweet Jane" to discover that they could still finish an entire song. It was painfully obvious that there were simply too many mistakes. A circle with only two points is a line, so the band attempted to round out their sound and invited trombone whiz-kid Bryan Woody to sit in on bass. While Bryan could play the hell out of "Seven Nation Army," he unfortunately discovered that what he really needed to do was sell two million dollars’ worth of software to unsuspecting businessmen. Bryan's lack of time reduced the proud trio, once again, to a desperate couple...

But, Hark! From out of nowhere... quite literally... Billy Boykin landed on the doorstep one day with his cherry-red electric and a little box of amplification. Shortly thereafter, the newly formed trio was joined by keyboard phenom and all around ladies' man Justin Perkinson. With the newly discovered magic of barre chords and Justin's ear for pleasure, the new quintet regurgitated their first original tune, "Escapism." Over time, the love song became what you now know as the crowd pleaser, "Guilt." Shortly thereafter, the still unnamed group ripped off a Social Distortion idea and "Buffet Gruel" was birthed despite Justin's untimely absence to the Big Apple. With two original "songs" under their belt Billy, Scott, and Jim kept at it. Soon, the promise of an opportunity to open for recording artist Cast Iron Filter presented itself, and all three were quick to jump at the chance. Among much doubt and speculation, the band continued to play. One evening after a little too much to drink, Scott and Jim decided they needed yet another song. Within minutes, "Self Serve Repress" was born. After several lyrical changes, the title was updated to "Bliss," and the group thought they were sitting pretty. But something was still missing...

While playing disc golf, Scott ran into acoustic guitar sensation Carl Stephens wondering around the forest. Keenly, Scott realized that Carl's flashy acoustic had no place in a band of wannabes. Luckily, he also realized that the sound was deeply craving something in the lower register. Just so happened that, while wondering around the woods, Carl had been stricken by the urge to get down and dirty and groove on the bass. The epiphany hit them both simultaneously, and Carl showed up at the next practice with his trusty Peavey. Soon the struggling songs found the low end emphasis they needed, and the rest of the band felt freed up and relaxed in the deep pocket of Carl's soulful groove.

New Year's Eve came and went... with somewhat disastrous results... but nothing comparative to the tragedy of Leopold Scotch... No one died. Not long thereafter, former Cast Iron Filter drummer Tim Helfrich invited the band to play a benefit at his Summit Coffee in Davidson. The invitation was gladly accepted, but, due to some scheduling conflicts, the show went on as a three-piece with Carl, Scott, and Jim holding on as best as they could. The band is still writing and plans to release an album sometime before 2525 and is happily playing every gig they can find that offers free beer.

After another quick benefit show courtesy of Tim Helfrich and Summit Coffee in Davidson, the band played a two-piece acoustic show at The Comet Grill in Charlotte. And, holy shit, it was the funniest most terrible most awesome thing ever. And "show," of course, means "open mic." Please, feel free to watch the ridiculousness from the mp3 page. Soon after the hijinks, the band, now without a bass player due to Carl's roaming the country in search of gold, heard from former Cast Iron Filter drummer Brian Burton that an opening slot for his new band would be potentially available in Raleigh.

In a moment of pure selflessness, Dustin Edge (whose middle name is not "The") volunteered to join the two remaining "musicians" in an effort to polish songs enough to perform in front of people one more time. The band had previously been working on a couple of new ideas and, now a threesome yet again, two new songs were forced, kicking and screaming, through the birth canal of decent ideas with poor execution. Soon, through neglect and a lack of caring, "Flavored Wine" and "Member" grew up and became what passes songs in the world of Filboyd Studge. With several practices behind them and a full arsenal of... what is that... six original songs... the new band was ready to hit the road. As it were. Unfortunately, God was tired of hearing this crap. Due to one of his acts, the Raleigh spot got lost and the show was played in Bryan Woody's basement with the help of too much beer to an audience of two...

But that's still not the end! Thinking back on a promise Scott made long ago, the new trio decided that it really was time to actually make a record. As time became cut short due to Scott moving to the moon, the songs had to be finished and the record recorded in a week. Naturally, Jim was stuck at work... again... moving furniture... again, which caused not a minor amount of stress regarding the creation of this... *ahem* art. With Dustin's extensive knowledge of ProTools, some late hours, and some playing the same thing over and over and over and over... and over and over and over again, tracks slowly began to emerge as songs. "Member" became "The Extraordinary Audacity of Human Self-Realization" because the band is incredibly intelligent and has many relevant things to say regarding human existence. A second verse was added thereby turning this into the only song with words co-written by Scott and Jim together. (Scott did everything else because he's more poetic... although he did, at one point, try to use the phrase "taco my meat.") Dustin put down bass lines for the songs in, you know, pretty much one take per song. A small number of effects were added. Sunny ate dog biscuits. Some discussion occurred regarding the album title. One was chosen that fit. Jim played in Photoshop. Surprisingly little discussion took place regarding the order of the songs. CD's were burned. Cover art was pressed. An album was made.

Scott now finds himself in LA attempting to find a life that suits him, Dustin is hard at work recording an album with 7,847,672,102 times as much artistic merit as "Apollo," and Jim works too damned much for not enough money and often would like to smash george bush in the face with his guitar so that it will finally do something worthwhile.

All events related above may or may not have happened. And may or may not have happened in the order provided. Nothing is true if you look at it too carefully.
Dostoevsky is smarter than you. And he's dead.

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