“pho_weevil”

Pho Weevil

West Suja

It seems like Pho Weevil, the darkside’s latest phenomenon, has skyrocketed to vulture heights in less time than it takes to pray to the Great Ones. However, the abbreviated Filipino, only 4’9” tall (converted from the metric: “almost 143 centimeters!”) has had a long and shadowy career. Starting off as FTB, an acronym earned after three records as Filipino Torso Boy, Pho has transformed himself from poseur amputee to 100-Yard sprinter (the Supertrackstar days) to today’s current impersonation of a puppet controlled by the Dark Prince.

Some argue that the music is more than disposable, and it’s true that Pho’s nasal whining over Asian synthesizer pop is not so much an acquired taste as an endured annoyance. Yet the sight of a short Asian prancing on stage, attached to rafters fifty feet above by elastic cords, is a strong one. Especially among those fevered fans in middle school and their frightened parents…

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Is it true what they say about a man’s centimeters?

What do you mean? Is that because I’m not as high from the ground? You know – I’m tall for someone of my people. Most imps reach only to three feet, three-four in heels. Lord Satan calls us his playthings. See, see. [tugging at the elastic cords, which – though still attached – now trail behind him]

Why the darkside? Is there no neutral ground?

Of course! The neutral ground belongs to the winner. The press thinks I’m evil, but I’m only opportunistic. I see a chance, and I take it. I see who the winner is going to be, the winner of the darkside against the goody-goodies (as we call them). The winner will be the darkside of course – because we can CHEAT! Ah, haha..

Art and music often don’t mix well. Think of oil and water. Are you the oil?

Yes, baby oil. I put it on my skin so I’ll shine. It also deflects holy water – too many have tried to banish me for me to take the chance. Hey. [to roadie] HEY. That’s MY Evian. Get the hell out of here. Man, you people. I’m gonna get Satan to give you hemorrhoids, you keep pulling that shit.

You list influences as diverse as Alice Cooper, the Common Market, and Pat Boone. Can you explain?

Alice, Alice was the best. We still play golf, though he doesn’t let me swing from a moving cart anymore. Alice did it first! Anyway, he got in while Satan was on a roll, signing killer acts left and right. Ozzy, KISS… those were the days. Of course, I should be glad, because the competition is not as fierce these days. Pat Boone? Please. I see him every day; he lives down the street. Drives that pale yellow Caddy, what a wuss. I think Satan just keeps him around for laughs. Haha, look at Pat. Ha.

How do you answer the accusation you stripped down to a pearl diver’s brief and consumed live squid (with chopsticks!) during a live performance? Is Science Greek to you?

You know, my people, the Imps, can do anything we want! But it is eating squid which gives us great joy. To recall one of us, you place five squid in a circle, their jellycone heads making the points of a pentacle. Weave their tentacles together, and burn some incense. Girls should get naked. We’ll show up in a PING, with chopsticks! Squid better be fresh, though.

Science! Science is Satan’s pacifier. Baby cries, you give him rubber nipple. Man wonders why, you give him grants and market research. Such a Greek tragedy.

Pho, unlike many papers, Ink Nineteen prefers a democratic approach to music coverage. Similarly, we’d like you to express yourself on any matters of concern to you, and that will close the story.

Buy my records.

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Pho Weevil will be touring gymnasiums throughout the Southeast in April. Check your local high school’s paper. ◼