The Origin of Go House Yourself
One summer night in 1989 Chris Pati, Nick DiMauro and I went to some local dance club in downtown Huntington, NY hoping to hear a snippet of a 12 inch, vinyl record single we had edited a few months earlier. We just finished a long and tedious engineering session trying to make someone’s cruddy recording sound a little less cruddier and we were depressed because our biggest pair of monitor speakers (the ones used to check out how much bass is on a recording) still didn’t come back from the repair shop and the studio biz for that month was slow. We were sure about our talents but no one in the music world seemed to care, so our attitude was how shall I say… Shitty? At the time, our own homespun label, Back Door Records had released Marci Geller’s 12 inch single "Shake You Up". We were learning about the pains of retail tracking and had spent that winter working with a DJ by the name of Stu Best. Stu was kind of a mock "Italian Guido" character that showed us how to create extended dance re-mixes from Marci’s 24 track tape of "Shake You Up". This is a customary procedure done to most pop dance records if ya don’t already know. He also stressed how important it was for him to have a piece of toast before every session. Hey, whatever works. Anyway, the single had gone through all the expected pay off channels in order to get some airplay and sales. Marci did her best to cover the dance club circuit but basically we found ourselves being ripped off by a greedy promotion company and lied to by radio DJs. The president of Backdoor Records, (a young, trusting, quiet man in his early twenties), Joe Remson soon suggested begrudgingly, that we try to put out another single. But what to put out? We didn’t know. Angry and frustrated, here we were at this club confronted with a herd of white Long Island disco heads, grinding away at the obnoxious pounding of a four on the floor kick drum that could easily have been used as a weapon during some current Middle East war. Amidst the typical dance music however, was a new sounding groove that while still being obnoxious to me, was rather bizarre in harmony and form. Some of it I actually enjoyed. Nick and Chris instantly dug it and they told me it was called house music; more specifically, "This Is Acid" by Maurice Starr. After about an hour of soaking up the seamy atmosphere of this disco fluid exchange, we left in an aggressively snotty mood, screaming out all sorts of existential profanities at no one in particular. Someone started to say the word "HOUSE" in a rather bizarre voice and the three of us all agreed that this new dance stuff was a piece of cake to write. (Not necessarily true we would find out later). As we waltzed in the moist midnight air back to our car, it was Chris who eventually screamed out "GO FUCK YOURSELF" but for "street" commercial reasons we quickly modified that phrase into "GO HOUSE YOURSELF". In an instant, the clichéd light bulb lit up. "Hey, what a ridiculous idea for a house piece." "Lets make tons of money." "We’ll show those bastards!"
Half-heartedly we made our way into a diner laughing, choking, ordering toast, now feeling somewhat energized. This was the perfect way to get rid of our music business frustrations; brutally make fun of a popular musical trend and record it without giving a flyin’ rat’s ass what anyone thinks. Yeah… EAT ME! And so, on the back of a paper place mat Nick channeled the GOD OF ABSURDITY and quickly scribbled down the lyrics about "vinyl shoes" and "back door hoagies" and "cash next to my wallet" etc…
Go House Yourself
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