(A portmanteau of Guy Fieri and Smash Mo — you get it.) As they tell it, each of the three was born and raised separately: Smash Mouth Guy, né Steven Scott Harwell, on January 9, 1967, in Santa Clara, California; Fieri, né Guy Ramsay Ferry, on January 22, 1968, in Columbus, Ohio; Violent J, né Joseph Bruce, on April 28, 1972 in Berkley, Michigan. I imagine a Svalbard Global Seed Vault for the über-beige phenotype, a repository of the hair-adventurous and Croakies-favoring sent forth across the Earth by some unseen power.From there, they forged their own respective paths to ska-pop/deep-fried/nightmare-clown fame, and, as the “story” goes, acquired their own permanent sunburns, developed their own preferences for hair product and short-sleeve button-downs, settled into their own BMIs, and developed their own labyrinthine shaving routines. There is Guy Fieri–Smash Mouth fan fiction (“‘I love you, my all star,’ He said, smooching Guy on the Lips.”); there’s a Facebook group devoted to the connection between Fieri and Harwell; memes featuring Violent J are regularly sent to all three of them on social media. There are more of them — many more, in fact — their sweat beading and their centers of gravity so very low. Fieri speaks often of his hunt for “Flavortown USA,” a place of good eats, sure, but also one where, as Fieri promises on the website of Guy’s American Kitchen & Bar in Times Square, visitors can be themselves.Stay true and everything will be cool.” Fieri and Violent J aren’t the only ones straining to make the connection at last.
The ringmaster is abusing the animals and performers, and the circus music, which should be cheerful, seems menacing.
The attractions (especially The Freak Show) seem off, the cotton candy is a sickly shade of green, the knife thrower , and the clowns... And people are disappearing, either consumed by or turned into the circus denizens.
Finally, the delicacy of Anne Quillier’s playing (Laureate “Jazz à la defense” 2013) on the Fender Rhodes, composer of the “Anne Quillier sextet”, reveals a textured jazz and a search for subtle textures with the Moog.
They anchored in a universe and electro sonorities on the compositions of its clarinetist and leader Pierre Lordet, recalls a certain electro-acoustic sound atmosphere in the manner of a John Surman or a Jasper Van’t Hoff or even sometimes noisy under the impulsion of the guitarist Lucas Hercberg in the way of Pat Metheny back in the days.
These attributes, one might argue, could be yours, too, if you so desired.
But what if Guy Fieri, Harwell, and Violent J don’t just happen to look alike and share the same confounding aesthetic?
This trope is the brother to The Little Shop That Wasn't There Yesterday, and often used in context with freaks, providing instances of either Red Right Hand or The Grotesque.
I do not know the name of the first brave soul to figure it out, nor do I know what happened to him or her, if the powers that be — and they are powerful indeed — tried to stop the truth from getting out, what weapons of spice and face paint they might have used. The truth: that Guy Fieri, Smash Mouth frontman Steve Harwell, and Insane Clown Posse’s Violent J are all the same person. Sure, they all look alike — the same hair, the same circa-2004 trappings, and the same buoyant robustness, like seventh grade pumped up into a parade balloon.
Inverse of Shrug of God (when the creator(s) refuses to give a concrete answer), and of Better Than Canon (when the fans all decide their theory is preferable regardless of what the creator says).
When this happens between fictional characters, it's a Sure, Let's Go with That.
The saturated game and the search for sounds at the electric bass, developed in “Chromb!