Audio Autopsy, 1989: Francis Dunnery & It Bites, "Calling All the Heroes" and the "Eat Me in St. Louis" Album
Get thee to a Dunnery! Prog finally whelps a creative, pop-driven dynamo, and its mastermind is a Brit named Francis born on Christmas Day. If only IB could've prevented early '90s plaid-clad grunge!
The Lamb Lies Down on Spilt Milk?
What might you get if you crossed early-‘90s power pop kingpins, Jellyfish, with venerable prog giants, Genesis?
Well, besides a band called Jellysis (or worse, Genefish), you’d whelp It Bites, a musical unit who, in Über-Rock’s accurate assessment, “Have always been one of the more curious cases of the progressive rock world: Their first impression on us back in the 1980s was that of a pop band. But, a pop band doing what no pop band had the right to do – successfully mix catchy tunes with complex musicianship and, God forbid, distorted guitars.”
The Genesis of the Unknown Juggernaut
It Bites is an English progressive rock and pop fusion band (hey, they’ve gotta be called something, and that fits as well as anything!), formed in Egremont, Cumbria (northern England), in 1982.
For their late ‘80s heyday, the band was comprised of Francis Dunnery (guitars, lead vocals), John Beck (keyboards, background vocals), Dick Nolan (bass, backing vocals), and Bob Dalton (drums, backing vocals).
They are best known (in most parts of the planet except the US) for their 1986 single, “Calling All the Heroes,” which gained them a Top Ten UK Singles Chart hit (and a stifled yawn from US radio programmers).
What American radio listeners were missing, then, was the roller-coaster dynamism of Dunnery’s “Calling All the Heroes,” filled with sudden stops’n’starts, madcap violin and piano solos, gunfire, a smooth, Tony Banks-ian synth break, and plenty of production twiddles to send the engineer to an early coffee urn…oh, and an irresistibly catchy chorus!
The band split in 1990, eventually returning in 2006 with new frontman, John Mitchell.
Earning Their Prog-Heavy Mettle
Those of us who date back to the vinyl-dominant days of the ‘60s through (even the) ‘90s might have moments where you’ve discovered an artist for the first time, and their music immediately speaks to you…they’re yours, in essence. Those in your friend-orbit don’t get them, and you’re left being alone in your fandom, knowing your buds are missing out.
For our story (‘cause it’s relevant moving forward), it’ll help to know that I’ve been all in on prog giants Jethro Tull (since their 1968 This Was debut…I was 13) and Genesis (since their 1972 fourth album, Foxtrot), when my lead guitarist turned me on to them. Thank you, David, and thank you, “Watcher of the Skies.”
I’ve seen both bands about a half-dozen times each (my meeting with Peter Gabriel after one 1974 concert has been written about here). Ian Anderson’s flute playing inspired me to buy one of my own in the early ‘70s. I took one lesson (to learn fingering and embouchure), and then proceeded to learn, by ear, all his licks listening to Tull albums, all the way from “Bourée” to Thick as a Brick, and everything in between!
Related: More Tull Coming Down the Tracks:
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