Dandelion Fiction is.
What’s Dandelion Fiction?
I had no idea, but someone in the universe wanted me to find out.
As I stepped off the subway car onto the dingy and dirty Fort Hamilton Parkway station in Brooklyn the other day, I absent-mindedly stared at all the graffitied advertisements that desperately clung to its walls. I paid no mind to most of them, unamused by the artistic improvements made by passersby – the usual mustaches, the blacked-out teeth, the devil horns and obscenities. But then I stopped, and did a double-take; one ad was ripped out, leaving behind a sad little frame with blank paper. On the paper were the words, “Dandelion Fiction is Real.”
So, of course I took a picture and looked it up. Whoever was the campaign designer was genius, all it took to spread the word was a sharpie and a message.
Typing in the words “dandelion fiction”, I got some strange results. But the first two or three were links to music sites, and a myspace for a band by the name.
Dandelion Fiction, as I found out, is a strange, strange band consisting of a man named Daniel F, who proclaims to play “daxophone, electric bass, singing, loops, pencilina, washboard, clackers and whackers, wizard of fuzz, dad’s old classical guitar (painted red with black spongemarks for a reason no one can fathom), etc etc.”
I wish I could say I listened to a few tracks. I couldn’t get through a single one. I sampled a few, but could not bear to sit through three minutes of Daniel F. singing “of course/off course” on a loop in his Weird-Al Yankovic voice with a backdrop of eery animal screeching, bad clarinet playing and demonic yelling. The words and the anger do not connect or make any sense.
Well, atleast they have some great advertising team.