Fred Cole (1948-2017)

Null:

It would be exhausting to give even a brief account of Fred Cole’s long rock ‘n’ roll life. There would be a long list of bands. There would be examples of a father, husband, bandmate, and overall genuine guy. There would be a life-long love story with Toody. And all of this would be in mono. I direct those interested in Fred Cole’s life to the documentary Unknown Passage: The Dead Moon Story, which was released in 2006. I hate writing this. I actually wept when I heard the news of his death, even though I knew it was coming.

I loved Fred. I loved his music and his lyrics. I loved his bands. I loved how every time I met him, he greeted me like a long lost friend and gave me a big, long hug. I love that when I hung out with Pierced Arrows, after their show in Denver, he remembered me from when I stopped by Tombstone Records years earlier in Oregon. I met him several times and he was the heart of love, DIY, and rock ‘n’ roll. Dead Moon will always be the greatest rock ‘n’ roll band, and Fred will always be a great man in my memories. I cherish the few times I helped him and Toody load up gear into their van while we drank beer until 2 AM, waxing poetically about the romance of love and life and death. He was a good man. He was an old romantic; he admitted it to me personally. People don’t know. That’s OK—some of us do. Love to Toody and their kids. “It’s OK—we love you anyway.”  

Fred was the salt of the earth. He was punk rock. He was the old west. He was the embodiment of community. One could hear the history of the twentieth century in his songs—before everything became “virtual,” when a real world existed. It was a world of shitty production and worn out boots, containing both a beauty and history that is inexplicable to post-modernists. Fred’s history is in the dirt under your fingernails. He was an inspiration and will continue to be. He showed not only how independent rock ‘n’ roll was done, but more importantly, how integrity and comradery are done. Down here, we put our shoulder to the wheel. I’ll leave you with the closing lines from “Deadline”:

Yeah, my life’s a broken wire but I’m getting my kicks

Another night of chaos with Edwin on the mix

Time to load equipment, where the hell did Andrew go?

Weeden’s got the t-shirts, and records on the floor

Hans and Ruud are talking, man, I need a cigarette

They say we’re playing Vera, if we don’t get in a wreck

Toody holds the lighter, when someone has to ask

“So why’s the candle burning?” “Cause nothing ever lasts”

My head’s a little scattered ‘cause I'm working on the dead line.”

SoDak:

Fred Cole, from the bands Dead Moon and Pierced Arrows, was cool as hell. Every time I saw him, he was dressed in a western, snap shirt, had a Dead Moon belt buckle, and was—most importantly—super friendly. Many years ago, Null and his partner flew into Portland, where I picked them up. We thought it would be cool to stop by the convenient store and musical instrument shop that Fred and Toody ran, where all the buildings look like they could be sets used in a western movie. By chance, Fred and Toody happened to be there, loading up gear to play a house party that night. We helped them load the last of their amps, and then they gave us a tour of the buildings. We just spent time hanging out and sharing stories. They invited us to the house party. We already had other plans, but we should have gone.

Fortunately, I was able to see Dead Moon play once and then saw Pierced Arrows perform several times. I wish I could have seen them more times. Both bands were fun. They were simply a three-piece, who loved playing raw, fuzzed-out, garage-punk rock. There is nothing fancy here. I loved the songs with the back and forth vocals, between Fred and Toody. Fred’s vocals, sometimes a shrill, captured anguish, excitement, and love. They fit the style of music and the attitude of his bands. While these bands are an acquired taste for many, once they grabbed you, they were chilling. Like, Motorhead, they played rock ‘n’ roll, just not in a commercial way.

Fred was fiercely independent. Fred and Toody embodied the do-it-yourself ethos. The documentary Unknown Passage: The Dead Moon Story captures their approach and spirit, as they are building their own house and recording their music. Heck, they cut their own records. Fred was unbelievable kind. I am glad that our paths crossed several times, as he was an inspiration in many ways.