However, the boys were in desperate need of a singer, due to Ben's cantophobia (fear of singing) and Nick's utter inability to hold a tune, much less sing a song. They tried resident Wildwood funnyman Jeff Keedy for a day, but would rather not have ended up like Weird Al Yankovic, so Jeff and the group parted ways. Finally, after many attempts, and many a flat "NO! Leave me the hell alone. I don't want to be in your stupid band!", Jason Farber, a trumpet and keyboard player, signed on, due to his similar taste in the murky pop-rock of the day, and understanding that a band with Nick singing was doomed to endless boos. So he was added, and immediately came up with the name The Silver Spirals, which was adopted on suggestion. For the time being, Nick and Jason assumed a joint leadership of the band. Throughout the summer, Nick and Jason wrote and recorded goofy little songs, some of which are still band favorites. These include the eternal "Have Some Fun", the droning "You're Alone", the even more so "One or the Other Some Days", and the ubiquitous "Sleep". Jason wants no credit for writing these songs, but hell, he's gonna run for some office someday, so the world might as well know. However, when they finally began practicing as a band in the fall of 1997, something was missing, aside from microphones for Jason. Sensing this, the boys did what anyone in their right mind would: they added bassist Andy Bettinelli, and saxophonist Colin Richardson, who promised to sing back-up vocals but never did. The band also had the terrible misfortune of having talent-ridden but often disagreeable drummer Guy Juravich quit, albeit temporarily. To fill this gap, the Spirals hired Ken Weinberg, who did his best to fill the part. We'd rather not insult good ol' Kenny, but he wasn't anymore accustomed to rock drumming than Nick was to writing drum parts. Nonetheless, we must give Ken some props for putting in the time and effort. In January of 1998, local radio station 99.3 (and back then it was the new rock alternative) sponsored a battle of the bands, and Nick and Jason roused the cohorts to prepare a recorded entry. With a Sony POS boombox and four songs, the band cut a demo, which contained the epic version of Sleep (which was destined to go through many changes, including a steel drum version), One or the Other Some Days, Have Some Fun (complete with Jason's crusty the clown imitation at the beginning), and the horribly botched ska attempt, Tune it Down a Notch. As an afterthought, Nick and Jason added a duet acoustic number entitled "New Person". They then proudly handed this musical smorgasbord in to the radio station. Unfortunately, the boys were not selected to compete in the concert portion. Shortly afterwards, Guy was readmitted upon Ken's release, and band friend Matt Cohen came to Nick with a lucrative offer: their very own local access TV special! The band responded emphatically, and cut three new songs for ACTV: Jason's piano ballad, "Grateful", Nick's I-wish-I-was-a-punk "Optimist Boy", and "New Person", which translated remarkably well to a full band setting. This demo is available on both audio and video cassette! Wee Hee Hee! At any rate, with this under their belt, the Spirals decided to give their very first live concert-in Nick's barn. They called a bevy of friends, bought 200 pieces of fried chicken, and it was on. Aside from old standbys, this show displayed two new pieces from the Farber/Juravich files: Walking By, and the three chord monster, Wrong, as well as a rather incidental cover of Third Eye Blind's "Semi-Charmed Life." All in all, a huge success.

This was the golden age of The Silver Spirals, a beautiful era of pop songs, a carefree youth of music and lyrics. But the summer would bring great change. During July of 1998, Jason and Nick continued pumping out pop melodies, which included "That Call", Window with No Curtains", and a solo effort by Nick, "Green Test", his very first song about breaking up with someone (watch as this becomes the main, in fact, only topic of Nick's lyrics.) However, while this was happening, Ben began listening to techno and metal, and Andy had become Jason's greatest adversary. These things built up as the songwriting fell apart, and by September, trouble was brewing. After a botched attempt to eject Andy, which did little for band morale, things looked downright wretched. How could a band exists with such terribly conflicting musical influences and personalities? The answer came soon enough-evolve. Tired of his band, bandmates, and position, Jason politely left the band in fall of 1998. Without a singer, the Spirals were wading about in the muck that is undecidedness. Nick asked a few people to sing, and got a few "maybes". It was a make or break, and it was Nick's call, so he did what he felt right-he took the role upon himself, and the sole leader was now the lead singer. Perhaps he thought his voice had matured, but who was he kidding-he still sounded like he had a mouthful of sand and a nose full of glue, and couldn't hold a note. Luckily, while the band was still adjusting to this, Lucy Munger, herself a former Wildwooder, joined the band to sing. Even so, the vocals were as shaky as the future of the band. One dark lonely night (December 28, 1998, to be exact) in rather cynical spirits regarding their war-torn band, Andy and Nick wandered into a tiny vegan cafˇ called the Blue Moon with the faint hope of landing a real gig. They were met by a short middle-eastern man, easily the shadiest character in Amherst, who gave them a wink and a nod upon entry. After warming themselves by the sunlamp for a few minutes, Nick turned to the counter and mumbled a lot of gibberish, finally stuttering out a feeble request for a gig. The owner grinned and said "Sure. When?" Utterly dumbfounded, Nick and Andy accepted his plan, and gave the man Nick's number. Before the new year, it was decided that on Feb.20, 1999, the Blue Moon Cafˇ would hear the debut of. . .The Silver Spirals??!! No, not under that outdated moniker. If the gig symbolized a rebirth, then with it was born a new name. After casting about for a few weeks, the 6 decided on Pieces of Marty. Why, you ask? Well, remember Jason? Jason's had a bouncy superball which he named Marty. One of our less-than compassionate friends, a lanky fishmouth named Seth Zimmerman, upon "meeting" Marty, promptly tore the ball into several pieces. While hearing this tragic story retold by a quivering, weeping Jason, our friend Amelia began hysterically screaming "Pieces of Marty!" at the top of her lungs. Dumbfounded, we calmed her down and got it out of her: she wanted us to call our band "Pieces of Marty". And so we did.

While preparing for the gig, we also caught wind of our school hosting a battle of the bands. We entered our song "That Call" sung by Nick, and made the cut. So our public debut came a little earlier than expected, at the battle of the bands, where we exhorted each other so much beforehand that by the time we hit the stage, "That Call" was 3.5 minutes of pure, unrestrained adrenaline. The crowd loved us back, and the new era was officially begun. So the band began enthusiastically rehearsing, pumping all their efforts into getting it together to play a set or two for the blue moon. Finally the day arrived, and at seven PM, the fellas carted their stuff down to the blue moon in Nick's dad's car only to find. . .Glen Stegner?!!!! The band was extremely puzzled. What was this weirded out, Genesis lovin', keyboard banging, electronic music nutcase who looked like a cross between Kenny G and Bob Saget, and much more importantly, what the f*ck was he doing at their show? A little on the irate side, Nick questioned Mr. Blue Moon heavily, only to discover that the shadiest character in Amherst also had a wee bit of a memory problem, and therefore had scheduled two gigs on the same night. Luckily, we had already filled the Blue Moon with our fans, most of whom were asking the same question we were: How the hell did Kenny G's head end up on Bob Saget's body, and what the hell was this celebrity mutant doing in Amherst on the "Ocean of Disillusion" tour? Mr. Stegner therefore graciously finished his set, was tipped heavily by our fans at the urging of the Pieces, and it was on! The first set was a little shaky, but things came together enough for the rousing rendition of the eternal classic, That Call. 12:52 also could have had classic status, except that the fuse blew halfway through the song, right as Nick sang the line "I've got power." Life is full of little ironies. After a brief intermission during which some crazy romantic issues arose amongst bandmates and their significant others (don't ask), the pieces kicked out the jams long into the night. Highlighting the set were the psychotic version of Wrong, complete with Guy's three minute, chimp-on-crystal-meth drum solo, during which the concepts of tempo were stretched to their farthest boundaries and some drunk threw beer on Guy through the Blue Moon's open window, and Window with No Curtains (the last surviving Farber/Juravich composition), which surprised the band with its popularity. Also included was a hectic, look-how-far-we've-come version of the band's very first band song, Have Some Fun. The gig was a complete success (thanks again to our fans for $80 worth of tips), and band morale was at a peak. Inspired by so fabulous an experience, Nick set to writing songs like a madman. Also, for the first time in what seemed like an eon (since before The Silver Spirals), Ben began pumping out songs for the Pieces as well. The band had finally gelled into a cohesive ensemble, not a lose group of individual talents (or lack thereof) each working towards personal goals. And on June 25, 1999, Pieces of Marty returned to the Blue Moon Cafˇ with a vengeance. Once again, the first set was a little shaky, especially without Lucy, who was off performing "A Comedy of Errors," but by intermission, spirits were still high. After an intermission which consisted namely of a barefooted Andy (who had lost his sandal to the mean streets of Amherst earlier that day) chasing Matt Pierce all over town, the second set was on, and all hell broke lose. Fueled by epic punk-pop masterpieces such as "Grudge" and "Fight Song for Morning," which buzzed like angry hornets while Nick, Ben, and Andy headbanged like mad and crashed into each other, the walls and furniture, Pieces of Marty lit up Amherst with a vengeance, playing so loud that the senior citizens center across town called the police with complaints (no joke)! After solving this problem by closing the windows, even though the temperature in the Blue Moon had already reached tropical proportions, Ben and Nick struck the opening chords to the crowd pleasing "Window with No Curtains." By this point, everyone was on their feet, dancing and swaying to the easygoing pop song. The final chords chimed, but nothing had even begun. Nick said with a wide, evil grin and a nod to his bandmates "We've got one more for ya tonight." The song was Tragedy, another punk-pop song by Nick about a bad breakup with some girl. Worthy of note: Nick wrote this song well between relationships, so it is officially about no one. You'd think this song would be just like the others, but everyone in the band knew it wasn't, and in the wild anticipation before the song began, each member individually cranked his amp, thinking "This is our best song. This is where it counts. Come hell or high water, I shall be heard." The crowd seemed to get it too, with many a head nodding vigorously in ecstatic anticipation, and the rock on sign being flashed above the crowd. Then Guy gave four quick clicks of his sticks, and Nick laid down the anthemic riff. It began as a slow, epic melody, and quickly fireballed into an explosion of semi-punk bliss. Andy ripped the popping bass part, Colin kept up the riff, Nick and Ben filled the room with manic noise, and Guy drove the band foreword like a man possessed. The crowd went insane, and for four beautiful minutes, while they watched their friends and bandmates pogo around, coated in sweat, screaming out what few lyrics they knew, each member of Pieces of Marty ruled the world. And that is the undying image that we hope all our fans keep forever imbedded in their memory banks-five guys crashing through a glorious mess of power-punk-pop. What could be more beautiful? That really should be the end of the story, but the world didn't end after June 25, 1999, though there are those who believe it should have. The band was inspired to greatness in the summer, as Ben and Nick pumped out tons of new songs, which we hope you'll all come and hear real soon. Unfortunately, as expected, Colin and Andy, who had passively hated each other for a very long time, finally came to blows, and their incessant arguing turned bandmates and practices sour. After about a month of really hating the fact that he was in a band, Colin graciously handed in his resignation, and the six were five. Unfortunately, the band, in its move away from its pop-rock orgins, altered its sound to the point where artistic conflicts and internal issues forced Pieces of Marty and Lucy Munger to part ways. Much love goes out to Lucy for her year of contributions and devotion to us. And now the Pieces are as they orignally planned to be: Four guys and a hell of a lot of sonic attitude!

The Future:
So that's where we stand today, four guys and a girl with lofty ambitions, and what we feel are the songs, skills, unity, and drive to make our dreams a reality. We'll be playing a gigs again real soon, and we're recording a demo in late January, which we will distribute with great fervor. Call me corny (ya wont be the first), but Pieces of Marty are a classic example of the cycles that rule the known world. The band was started for pure, unabridged fun, and we've come through a lot, hard times that had every band member questioning their reasons for being in this quirky ensemble, to reach that exact same point: a bunch of kids who love the music they play and the pals they play it with. So come out and support us next time we play, and ya won't be disappointed!