Few records have made a lightning-quick impact like Annie Fish’s seminal 1994 record Weird Like Me. One of the most anticipated records of its time, after a controversial promotional campaign and an arduous touring schedule, the record all but vanished from stores. Now, after 25 years, the full, harrowing tale of the record’s creation and the band's near-immediate dissolution can finally be told.
JANEY PANTO (Bass Guitar): I knew Annie growing up. My dad died on the first day of high school. Annie was the only person who asked how I was doing. She was the first girl I, uh, was in a band with. She was my best friend. I've never seen anymore more days of my life than her. We were always going to be in a band together. That’s what she promised.
I wasn’t mad when she joined up with [her prior band], they were obviously going to be huge, it was a great opportunity. But when she joined up and disappeared, I was bummed, sure. But I could always turn on the TV and see her off to the side.
ENID WHARTON (Drums): I met Annie in the old band. I joined the last tour. I knew she was dating the singer. I could see it was a bad situation. I didn’t get along with [the singer] either. But I got along with Annie. The band was huge but I could see Annie eyeing the door and I wanted to be there with her when she walked.
JANEY PANTO: I remember the call after she left the old band. She just cold called me. It had been years of nothing, not like I was waiting or anything, but I mean… what the hell, you know? It was great, but it was weird. I could tell she was hiding something. But I was hiding something too, you just know what it looks like. We were playing it cool, you know? Anyways, she asked me to join her new band, and I said “fuck yeah.” After we hung up I cried. I was so happy to get to see her again.
WALLY BOONE (Former Manager): Look, I won’t say I didn’t try to convince Annie to stay with the old band. They were so huge, MTV couldn’t get enough of them. They were on the cover of SPUN Magazine at least six times. I didn’t know what was really going on. I didn’t care what was going on anyways, as long as the band was popular.
JANEY PANTO: I remember reading one of those SPUN articles. They gave all the credit to the lead singer, which wasn’t surprising. But I remember the way they fixated on how Annie looked. What was it, “like a boxer ready to pounce the bed?” It was bad, whatever it was.
The article in question reads: ”To [the singer’s] right is Annie Fish, a mannish girl built like a bear. There’s a sexual ferocity to her, and with her massive arms and a beast’s hands, she looks ready to pounce. Yes, please!”
BARRY KRUDUP (Music Critic): I used to write for SPUN, and even then I could tell Annie was going places. That if her old band ever broke up, she was going to light up the world. I wasn’t quite right about that, but I at least called it on the talent.
ENID WHARTON: It was bad. I remember one show every time the crowd would cheer for Annie [the lead singer] would unplug her guitar. They fought onstage once, like, physically. The crowd loved it, they didn’t realize it wasn’t an act. I swear to God they almost killed each other onstage.
BARRY KRUDUP: She brought the ferocity of her antagonistic relationship into her work. It was a beautiful mix. Was it worth it? That’s the question of good art, isn’t it? When the breakup happened, everyone was paying attention. It was like a boxing match, who was going to come out on top? A lot of people put their money on Fish.
JANEY PANTO: A week after she asked me to join her new band, she called me again, 3AM, crying her eyes out. That’s when I knew it was serious, what she went through with [the lead singer]. What she was giving up to be in that band. I wish they never blew up. I wish people didn’t think of her as a part of a whole. She felt trapped there. She just wanted to be her own person, making art for herself. Yeah, she wanted people to hear it, but… well. I don’t know. I just wanted to be there for her.
She told me it would be a wild ride. She was joking. But then she was kinda right, I guess.
ENID WHARTON: I guess [the lead singer] was always threatening her with something. I never knew about that, and I didn’t know about what. I didn’t know what it was they thought they “had” on her. But I guess they were convinced it was something that would kill her career. I never asked her what it was. It was an off-limits topic. And I respected that, even if it might have actually been good for her to talk about. But we were babies, no one was talkin’ about anything.
JANEY PANTO: What an asshole. But you could never say that out loud, you know? Annie’s new band was always going to be seen in contest with the old one. So we had to play nice. Annie had to swallow her tongue every interview. They always started with the same questions. They always made it out like she was a dick for “backstabbing her ex” by quitting the band.
BARRY KRUDUP: It was a match made in Rock N Roll heaven. Everyone wanted that band to stay together. To watch those fireworks go off every night.
ENID WHARTON: I could tell it was hard for her to recover. We were never close enough for me to feel like I could ask her about it. I regret that, kinda. But I guess there wouldn’t be an album without that fucked up shit, huh? Actually… no, that’s wrong. I just wish it hadn’t happened.
WALLY BOONE: Annie made a lot of buzz as a sideman— woman, whatever. The fans started to latch onto her. If she hadn’t quit, I think she would have been kicked out. It made a lot of tension in the band. But I could see that more the half the crowd was on her side, so I threw down my chips. Women in rock were a thing, or they were about to be. At least that’s what it looked like.
JANEY PANTO: I was surprised when a label signed us so quickly. Annie was, too, and I think she was too excited about it. But I understood. She had so many ideas, she wanted to get them out so bad. She needed the label— the machine of it, she needed that money, you know? It was the 90s, label money really did grow on trees.
ENID WHARTON: I was just happy to have a job.
JANEY PANTO: It wasn’t a month between Annie calling me up to join the band and us being in the studio. It was a real whirlwind.
WALLY BOONE: She was a hard sell. She looked weird. She wasn’t attractive— not that that’s everything, but it’s important, or whatever. And I tell you, they were right, she looked like a bull. She looked too strong to make it big. Two years before, I would have looked at her and ran away. But after ’92, the grunge thing, anyone could make it big. You could look like a bull and make it. Put the flannel on the pig, right? So like I said, I put my chips down.
Work commenced on what would become Weird Like Me in August 1993, at a converted garage studio in Los Angeles dubbed “The Mazzoleum,” with Art “Deluge” Pitten in the producer’s chair.
ART PITTEN (Producer, Weird Like Me): I was brought in pretty soon. The old band recorded a B-Side with me, and while I didn’t get along with the leader, I got along with Annie great. We shared a musical language. As I understood, me in the production chair was a no-brainer.
JANEY PANTO: Annie wanted to produce herself, but she knew the label would never let her. She got Ari because he’d already cut some massive records. They got along, for sure, and it turned out even better than we thought it would. But it was definitely a move to keep the label off her back. Hiring Ari was like, three get out of jail free cards.
We used those get out of jail free cards real quick.
BARRY KRUDUP: I loved the mysteries she set up. Like, “Water IV.” Where were the first three “Waters?” Did it matter?
JANEY PANTO: She was following up on the songs she’d been writing for years that no one had ever heard. The whole record was her saying “I’ve always been here, you just haven’t seen me.” These were the songs she wasn’t allowed to sing.
I barely wanted her to sing “Water IV.” We recorded it live, staring each other down, never blinking. I had to leave the studio for a while after we finished.
ART PITTEN: One of my favorite memories was setting up the room for the band to bash out “Water IV.” It was one of the only times we actually went for a fully live recording— the rest of the time we laid the drums down first. This time we just needed that feeling of togetherness, it totally took the pressure off, just for a little bit. We did maybe …five, six takes, and the last one was the one on the album.
Not five minutes after we finished their manager literally broke the studio door down and demanded to hear what we were working on. You could see steam coming out his ears when I played back “Water IV.” So I played him a shorter song, a sharper, more single-material kind of thing. I played him “Fit Conniption.”
WALLY BOONE: I wasn’t liking what I was hearing. I wasn’t liking any of the choices she was making. I had to be convinced that the record should start with “Fit Conniption,” for chrissakes. But it was the right decision, I guess. I read reviews, they all liked the song. And it got airplay when it wasn’t even a single. Thank God for that— free advertising! That cooled me down for a while.
BARRY KRUDUP: What an image to use as your introductory statement! It’s a bold statement! No one did bold statements like Annie. So grim! It spoke to the nascent mall goths, I think. They loved the edge, the darkness. A masterstroke.
JANEY PANTO: It’s not made up. I don’t know when it happened. That was one of the things she didn’t like to talk about. But it’s a true story. She was furious at everything. Yeah it was about her ex, but it was about getting out of it, too, you know? It was a song about freedom. And people didn’t want to hear that! She was careful not to get painted as a “hysterical woman,” which happened anyways. It took a lot out of her. That’s probably why she didn’t want “Fit Conniption” as the lead single, which someone yelled at us about at some point.
ART PITTEN: We did a lot of songs, really quickly. Knockin’ them out. Annie was hungry, and the studio was kind of new to her? I mean, obviously with the old band she’d done some sessions, but this was her time, and she wanted it.
JANEY PANTO: We recorded a lot of the “weird” songs first, like “The Dragon’s Litany,” or “Snaggletooth.” Songs that Annie would never have been allowed to do, let alone sing, in the old band. Songs that were really, I mean, they were cool, but we were always kinda snickering about how they “weren’t gonna do numbers.” But they were good songs. “Snaggletooth” was kinda rabid, but the lyrics were intense. I loved that song.
ART PITTEN: “Snaggletooth” was good, a really pummeling song, but obtuse, it was about something close to her that I wasn’t privy to. A lot of the songs were like that.
ENID WHARTON: I was lucky to be on the drums. Half of these lyrics were so wild, I’m glad I didn’t hear them onstage. Shit like “Metrobolist,” what the fuck was that?
JANEY PANTO: Annie’s notebook from that time, it had “Prog Rock Dreams” scrawled on the cover.
WALLY BOONE: I remember she had this book that said “Prog Rock Dreams” on it, and I was explicitly not allowed to look at it.
BARRY KRUDUP: “Prog Rock Dreams.” I’ve always taken it as the rosetta stone to the album. What does it mean? Whose dreams are those? Are they Annie’s? Or all of ours?
JANEY PANTO: It was a joke she had to herself. People always looked at those words like they were… I don’t know, talismans or something, but it was always just a joke to her.
ART PITTEN: I wasn’t allowed to read it. But I remember it being around the sessions, and it was always open when we recorded “Metrobolist.”
ENID WHARTON: There was a real dream. Annie told me about it one morning— she was on a beach made of glass and the ocean was made of blood. I thought it was cool!
BARRY KRUDUP: A lambskin tent. An incredible, indelible image. It’s so evocative— future humans, huddled in whatever makeshift shelters they can muster. It makes sense it would be lambskin. Only hoofed animals could survive if the ground had turned to glass.
JANEY PANTO: Oh, the lambskin tent (laughs).
ART PITTEN: I always chuckled at the song. A lambskin tent. Was that a penis? I didn’t know, I didn’t ask. It was fun. A lot of the sessions were fun, at first. Then the manager, the label guys, they started paying closer attention.
We would work on something like “Metrobolist,” and we would be laughing in the booth, you know? But you could hear the suits sweating. They wanted results. I thought that was unfair. They were spending money on the record, but they weren’t spending that much. I mean, budgets in those days were skyrocketing, and comparatively? They gave her pennies. And they were still sweating them. Tapping watches, looking at clocks. What did they expect when they signed her? I never knew what they were looking for.
WALLY BOONE: I would stop by the studio and I would want to tear my hair out. “Metrobolist?” “Death’s Pear?” “Snaggletooth?” What the hell was this? I told them to get serious. A lot of people had money on the line. Those songs weren’t gonna do the numbers, come on.
ART PITTEN: It got stressful. I knew Annie had the songs, but I don’t think she knew which would be a hit. We would spend as much time on something like “Bummer Girl” as we did on something like “Pobrecita.” Both are good, but one is obviously more of a “hit” than the other, you know? And the label, and her manager, they were no help. They would call in every day, they would ask my assistants to stop takes as we were recording them, just so Wally could yell at her about whatever thing he was pissed at that day. I thought it was so unfair— it was no way to make a record, with that kind of pressure, wondering if these personal pieces were going to “make it big.” But she would up making it work.
With every debut album, the pressure is on to create a massive hit. Luckily, the title track fit the bill.
JANEY PANTO: In high school we had a job at an ice cream shop. We were two weirdos at a really square joint, you know? But we got along with the boss’ daughter. She was out of her mind, such a sweetie. One day she walked up to Annie and said, no joke, she said “you’re weird… like me.” She was so cool, and she was like… seven.
ART PITTEN: The first couple of days in the studio were doing the weirder songs on the album, like “Dragon’s Litany” and “Death’s Pear.” The suits were worried, kind of just, “does this person really have the goods?” I brought her manager in to hear “Weird (Like Me).” And once he heard the opening riff of it I knew we were good. I swear to God I saw dollar signs in his eyes.
WALLY BOONE: Finally they gave me something I could sell.
ENID WHARTON: I don’t know jack about guitars but that opening riff fuckin’ ruled, man.
BARRY KRUDUP: An invitation to the freaks. Annie Fish, Pied Piper of the Alternative Nation. The dreaded bathroom mirror sings back to the dispossessed.
JANEY PANTO: She was so scared of the world, so afraid of what people would think of her. It was hard to be around sometimes because she just refused to believe in herself. I would get frustrated with her a lot, which was shitty but what was I supposed to do? I could only say “don’t worry, you’re fine” so many times a day. Eventually I think she got so fed up with thinking she was a freak and decided to make a song out of it.
JANEY PANTO: When we went into the studio we weren’t thinking about what songs would be singles or anything like that. It was just all about “get it down, get it on tape, worry about it later.” Then the suits made us worry. Until we played “Weird” for them.
ART PITTEN: It was clearly going to be the lead single. It, well, it rocked. It was a great single.
WALLY BOONE: When I heard “Weird (Like Me),” I let a breath out. I knew we’d be okay. And we were, until we found an even better way to market her.
ART PITTEN: I’m sure “Weird (Like Me)” was personal, but it didn’t matter what it was about; to me it was about filling rooms with a massive sound, which it did.
ENID WHARTON: The first time we played it I could feel the room shake. It was tremendous.
JANEY PANTO: I remember our first gig all together I was staring at Annie’s face because I couldn’t hear her vocals and I needed to know where we were in the song. So I saw her face shift when she saw the way the crowd reacted to “you could be weird— like me!” It was a revelation. I’d never seen her so happy, how could you not fall in love with her! On stage, I mean.
ENID WHARTON: It was always the most fun to play that song. We kept moving it sooner and sooner in the set, I wish we hadn’t— it was always downhill from there (laughs).
“Weird (Like Me)” was indeed the first single, issued months before the album came out. This made some problems for marketing when it was decided that the album would have the same name. There was a lot of worry that consumers wouldn’t realize they hadn’t already bought the CD. The label felt it had to come up with a new way to market Annie Fish to the audience.
ENID WHARTON: Don’t ask me about the moon stuff, I’m sick of talking about it.
ART PITTEN: I just thought [“Lunar Loon”] was a good song. Good single material. The melody was good, I didn’t know what the words were.
BARRY KRUDUP: The 90s contained the last gasp of humanity’s steps into space. The Challenger was still fresh in the public consciousness. We were giving up on infinity, and Annie was the only one paying attention.
JANEY PANTO: The thing about Annie was that she didn’t really care that much about the moon stuff. It was just a joke, kind of. Like, something we shared, looking at the moon together when we were kids. We wanted to go to the moon because it was the farthest place from where we were. That was a lot, but it didn’t mean anything more than that. It was only later that she really doubled down on it. She needed like, a talisman, and the moon was all she had.
ENID WHARTON: I didn’t give a shit, it’s the fuckin’ moon. Who cares?
ART PITTEN: It was the label that jumped on it; they didn’t know how else to promote her. Like, “Weird (Like Me)” did okay, it was big on like, college radio, and MTV would play it, like, at night.
It took one contentious interview and a PR all-nighter to truly get the ball rolling.
“Coming up on 120 Minutes is the enigmatic Annie Fish, whose new single “Lunar Loon” has torn up the airwaves with its moony melodies and alternative swagger, will be appearing in the MTV studio later today to discuss her sudden star turn.”
K: What’s up MTV this is Kennedy and we’ve got a hot new rocker here in the studio with us— Annie Fish. Annie, you’re looking, uh, looking really buff here today.
A: Uh, thanks?
K: Hahaha, yeah right. anyways, so the new album, the debut album— very exciting, very exciting.
A: Yeah
K: Now, it’s called Weird (Like Me).
A: Yeah
K: Ao, should we just call it Weird or is the whole thing important?
A: Um. You can use Weird as an interrogative and use Like Me as an imperative?
K: Ha ha, O-kayyy, so this album is very guitar guitar guitar, there’s a lot of swagger, a lot of posturing, a big grab your (bleep) record, are you trying to be one of the boys, prove your worth to Kurt?
A: Um. Wow, ok. so first off, I uh, i’m not posturing, I—
K: Well you know, it’s very Stone Temple Pilots, it’s very Smashi—
A: Yes, it’s a (does air quotes) rock and roll record. But i’m deathly serious. It’s not a posture. It’s my record. And sure, yes, those bands are very talented, but I’m not “one of the boys” and I’ve always had absolutely zero interest in being one. And while I would (air quotes) love to play lollapalooza, that’s not what the album is about, that’s not my end goal, it’s not who I am.
K: Well I’ll call Perry, see if we can get you on the bill!
A: That is… sure. fine. i’d love that. I’d love to meet (air quotes) Perry.
K: Well, Annie, we’re gonna play the video for “Lunar Loon,” pretty weird clip, you want to tell us anything about it real quick?
A: Um, yeah, well, it’s about the moon landing and how I unequivocally believe that it really happened.
K: Well Je-sus Christ, Annie Fish, everybody.
A: Like, do you know that people think the moon landing was fake?
K: Sure I do. I’ve read some theories, actually. It’s kind of convincing, don’t you think?
A: WHAT?! Absolutely not!
K: Haha, you don’t think Stanley Kubrick directed the moon landing?
A: OH MY GOD NO I DON’T
K: Wow, this is a sore subject for you, huh?
A: Of course it is! If we don’t believe in— okay, so like, the space program is a shriveled husk of its former
self, right?
K: Well we still have the shuttle—
A: No, the shuttle is bullshit. What are we doing now other than poking around our orbit? We had our sights set so high before— we walked on the god damned moon!
K: Right
A: And then we just… stopped. We just gave up. We just decided “no further,” and …stopped.
K: Okay… and?
A: And to discredit, to disbelieve our only steps out into space, out into the great beyond… it’s…
K: …wow, are you crying?
A: Yes. it’s so f***ing sad.
K: …
A: But instead there are people who don’t even think we landed on the moon. Who think we spent billions of dollars on deceit instead of wonder.
K: That’s… (starts laughing)
A: What? What is it
K: I’m sorry (still laughing) it’s just so… so stupid.
WALLY BOONE: I was terrified after that interview. I thought it was bad press. I was watching my investment blow up in my face. I got calls at midnight. My bosses were sweating, I was sweating. But then overnight, the rest of the tour sold out. All the way out. We had to add shows. People wanted to see the “Moon Girl.” Thank you, Jesus!
BARRY KRUDUP: It was the instant ignition of a new rock and roll mythology. Thrusters on full.
JANEY PANTO: Week one it was chill, the shows just got bigger. Of course we liked that.
ENID WHARTON: Yeah, like, who can say no to bigger shows? I mean, yeah, it was harder to get to the motel afterwards, that was weird.
JANEY PANTO: Week two a label guy came down.
ENID WHARTON: That fucking wiener came down and told us to put a bunch of fuckin’ moons on the stage.
JANEY PANTO: It was so fucking embarrassing. They had a binder full of costume ideas: like, spacesuits, and inflatable moons, they wanted to bring like, dancing men with giant moon heads to like, go-go dance on the stage. Did they, like, look at the crowds we had? We were already playing to dudes. They wanted us to wear silver tube tops and mini skirts. I mean, I guess the dudes would have liked that, but they were plenty happy just moshing.
ENID WHARTON: I’m a fuckin’ drummer, I can wear neither a tube top nor a mini skirt.
WALLY BOONE: I got a call, a very angry call. Annie didn’t like what the label had in mind. I told her I didn’t know about the moon strippers or whatever, I told her all I knew was that the label wanted to capitalize on the sudden popularity of “Lunar Loon.” I told her they wanted to make it a thing. I told her to compromise. She didn’t need to know it was my idea. And it was a good idea. She needed a gimmick, and I needed leverage, you know? It was a business, for fuck’s sake.
JANEY PANTO: It went okay, at first. Annie took a deep breath and worked with the label to find a way to make everyone happy. The merch we had all got replaced with new merch that was moon-themed. Some of it was nice, like, we didn’t have the budget for cool shit like a background projection and now we could have one. It had to have a lot of moons in it— I remember Annie going back and forth for approval. She put together the entire new show over a weekend we had off. She was so tired.
WALLY BOONE: Look, you don’t start a rock band if you don’t want to work hard. She didn’t work that hard. It got her more money anyways, for a while. So I stopped listening to the band complaining about “being tired.” They could suck it up.
JANEY PANTO: It started to get weird pretty quick. I didn’t notice, because I was the bass player, no one asked me questions much anyways. But I started to notice they only wanted to ask Annie about the Moon. When we were about to release the next single (“Down Town Drive”), we did an all-day junket kinda thing, and I realized that every interview had the same shape: “why isn’t this new single about the moon,” and if Annie didn’t want to talk about the moon, they’d immediately ask about her ex, so she had to pivot back to the moon. She needed to use the Moon so she didn’t have to talk about the abuse. By the end of the day, though, I think she believed in the hype. She became the weirdo moon girl. The weirdo moon girl kept her safe. She didn’t know who else to be. That’s probably why she agreed to the “Down Town Drive” video.
WALLY BOONE: It was a good hook, we needed a hook. I don’t know why she insisted on choosing “Down Town Drive” for the third single. We had to keep people interested. I didn’t want the one good thread of hype we had to fade away. I called her up and told her to double down on the moon stuff. That was our only angle. I told her if she didn’t do what the label wanted, she’d be out of a deal. It was simple.
ART PITTEN: I remember when I first saw the “Down Town Drive” video. My jaw was on the floor. I was so embarrassed for them. What happened?
JANEY PANTO: It was everything we had said no to on the tour. We didn’t know we wouldn’t have a choice this time.
ENID WHARTON: They told me to put the mini skirt and tube top on and I said “no.” A man in a suit with a ponytail screamed at me to put it on. I told him to fuck off. I didn’t know he worked for the label.
WALLY BOONE: It was defcon nine. I had to fly down to Los Angeles, stop what I was doing, I was on vacation, I had to leave early, and deal with a bunch of children who didn’t want to take their medicine.
ENID WHARTON: I didn’t want to do it, I couldn’t do it. I didn’t get into music to dress like a fuckin’ ding dong.
JANEY PANTO: It was bad. There were like, three guys screaming at Enid. Just because she wouldn’t wear the moon costume! But they were really going at it. Trying to humiliate her. Just telling her insane things, I remember “no talent slut” and “ungrateful dishtowel.” She laughed at the dishtowel one. Which, I mean, yeah, what the hell does that mean. But it didn’t help anything.
ENID WHARTON: I saw Annie between the arms of these huge dicks who were yelling at me. She looked horrified. But then I watched her walk away. I, uh, actually never saw her again.
JANEY PANTO: She didn’t know what to do. I wound up having to physically separate everyone. Enid walked out off the set and uh, quit that night. Annie wouldn’t let me in her trailer. I knew she just didn’t know what to do. All at once, it turned into something else. Something huge and… ugly.
ENID WHARTON: Yeah, I’ve heard it. I get it. But, like, I was out of a job. That sucked.
ART PITTEN: I kept reading the trades and seeing wilder stories. I saw Enid had quit and I was shocked. By the end of the year only Janey was left, which made sense. The band was turning into the thing about the broom, change the brush, change the handle. It just wasn’t the same.
WALLY BOONE: Cream rises. What did I care?
Regardless of the hardship that went into its creation, the “Down Town Drive” video became a staple of Music Television. Unfortunately, the high rotation didn’t lead to an increase in sales. People expecting another “Lunar Loon” were let down by the change in tone and subject matter.
ART PITTEN: It’s funny, you know, if a band today got the sales that Annie got for “Down Town Drive” back then, it would break records. But in 1994, half a million was a flop.
JANEY PANTO: I know it’s cliché to call things a rollercoaster but I swear to God it was. The single “didn’t perform,” so half the shows got cancelled. I don’t even remember what the excuse was anymore. But it hurt. And we had way too much downtime. Annie had too much downtime. She had time to think again.
ART PITTEN: I gave her a call, to just tell her I was sorry, to commiserate, you know? And… I didn’t recognize who was on the other line. All her energy was just… gone. It wasn’t a long call. She actually told me she had to go talk to the moon at the end. It was really sad.
JANEY PANTO: She started to play up the moon stuff whenever she got stressed out, when she didn’t know what to do or say. By the last days of the tour, she was playing it up a lot. Especially once the shows got intense.
WALLY BOONE: People used to tell me that kids were double stuffing venues to see the shows because I had cancelled half the tour. People told me it was a sign we didn’t have to cancel. They were wrong. There was no money there, I don’t care how many kids were stuffing themselves into the shows.
JANEY PANTO: Things started to feel… dangerous.
ENID WHARTON: I actually tried to go to a show, near the end of the tour. Just to see how it was getting on. At first I couldn’t even get in. Once I did, I could barely see the ceiling, it was so packed. But it wasn’t… it wasn’t good. Like, the music was good, as far as I could tell. But the feeling was… eh, not for me.
JANEY PANTO: The energy changed. There were no girls to get up front. It was only boys, and they were feral. There were always a couple of meatheads, but now there was no one else. And they wanted blood. I don’t know what it was.
ENID WHARTON: A twerp tried to feel me up so I kicked him in the shins and left. It wasn’t for me.
JANEY PANTO: The last night of the tour a kid got on stage, and I thought he was just going to stage dive like all the other losers. But he grabbed Annie, real hard, and started to pull her off the stage with him. It was the middle of “Metrobolist,” so it was just like, solos? I didn’t know if I should stop or not. The rest of the band—all hired guns by this point— they didn’t see it, so we kept going.
ART PITTEN: I heard about that night. Real bad.
JANEY PANTO: At first she was just crowd surfing. But then I saw her struggling? And then she went down. I could only see a hand. Then nothing. I ripped by bass off and dove in. I couldn’t see anything, I remember— I remember the smell. Just sweat. Then I saw the guys, around her, just pawing away, so I started swinging. Then I could only smell blood.
ENID WHARTON: If I was still in the band then… well, I’d be in fuckin’ jail. I would have fucking murdered everyone there.
JANEY PANTO: I got her out. She was banged up, and her clothes were ripped up. She wanted to finish the show, and I told her she was nuts. But she did it anyways. I guess if we hadn’t it would have just made everyone more mad. But she kept saying “if we don’t stop, they’re gonna know— they’re gonna know.” And I was like, “honey, know what?” And I saw the looks in the eyes of some of the guys who were up front. They looked sick, and they looked mad. It was terrifying.
WALLY BOONE: MTV ran with the story for a little, but it didn’t stick. I was fed up with trying by that point. We had another hook— “the survivor!” It was perfect press! But she didn’t want to be a spokesperson for the abused women of her generation, I guess. What a waste.
JANEY PANTO: The news was mostly like, “how could a woman with arms like that get taken down so easily?” And she didn’t want to do interview about it— understandably!— but… yeah, the story got dropped, I guess they couldn’t find a way into it without her giving them something to gnaw on.
The final single released from the album was “A Home Atop The Hill,” an alternative-styled ballad.
WALLY BOONE: I didn’t even want anything to do with the band by that point. First two singles, I made out good. I should have got out then. I invested well, I didn’t lose much. Sometimes you make a bad bet, that’s the business. Anyways, the label wanted to give it one more go. I said “have at it.” They felt worse than I did, for sure.
JANEY PANTO: I was the only person Annie was talking to by that point. So I actually had to tell the label she wanted “Home Atop The Hill” to be the next… last… single. I could hear their shoulders sag over the phone.
ART PITTEN: There were such better singles on the album. Obvious potential smashes like “Bummer Girl.” Why leave that on the table! Why leave “Cranium!” I admit, I was surprised it was “Hill.” I assumed it was going to be “The Business of Getting Down,” the only other song that had anything to do with the moon. I mean, it was a pleasant surprise— it’s a good song!— but still.
JANEY PANTO: I think Annie knew it was going to be her last chance. Her last opportunity to say something. So she chose “Home Atop the Hill” because it was so important to her. I knew what it was about, no one else did.
JANEY PANTO: Annie lost her record deal, the album went out of print, and every magazine cover had her ex’s smiling face plastered all over. They were gloating that success at her. That person who just broke her, and she couldn’t not see their face.
Anyways, yeah, “Home Atop the Hill” was about… just making it through the day. How when you feel like you have no way out, you find yourself settling in. It was a brutal song. Perfect song for her to put out.
I mean… it was about her ex, how abusive they were. I don’t want to get into details, SPIN did that anyways, later, when they named [her ex's] next record Album of the Year. Everything Annie had gone through, they were just yelling about it and her ex was getting celebrated for it. I thought it was gutsy of Annie to put it out in a song. At least her side of things had some kind of representation, I don’t know.
It tanked, but it didn’t really matter at that point anyways.
WALLY BOONE: It was a mercy I didn’t sue her for breach of contract or something. I missed out on millions because of her.
JANEY PANTO: We were sharing an apartment for a little while, after the tour ended, after the dust settled. We didn’t talk much anymore. Annie was trying to write music, I think, but only during the day, when I was at work— obviously I had to get a job again. She never played me any of her tunes. I think she was embarrassed by them, embarrassed by everything. She had worked so hard for so long. I don’t think she felt let down. There were a lot of people who had her back, and she knew that, deep down.
I think she just felt like she had been through so much when people weren’t looking. She didn’t want to have to keep explaining what she’d been through. The magazines, the TV, they all invented a “battle of the bands” between her and her ex, and when Annie’s songs didn’t do too well, first they laughed, and then they just buried her. She was a “loser” who fucked up by going up against her perfect ex.
There were constant rumors in the next year after that she would release a second album, supposedly called “The Nuclear Age.” These rumors never came to pass, and she eventually fell out of the public eye.
ENID WHARTON: Yeah, I mean, I didn’t expect that she would call me. I wanted her to… fuck, I guess I could have. But I was so mad, you know? So mad.
ART PITTEN: Annie came to me— well, she came to me through Janey— and said she had some new demos. I wanted to work with her again so bad. But since I was contracted with the label itself… my hands were tied. She wasn’t with the label anymore. I had to decline. It broke my heart. I’m sure it broke hers, too. No one else in town would take her calls. I read the rumors about her second album. What was it supposed to be called? The Nuclear Age? It’s one of those things… maybe it’s better we never heard it. Maybe it’s better for it to not exist. Weird Like Me is good enough to stand alone. It’s a great epitaph, if it has to be.
I’m always gonna wonder what that record would have sounded like.
BARRY KRUDUP: There’s always something so moving about a path not chosen. Obviously, so many paths weren’t chosen by Miss Fish. The paths were chosen for her. She was shoved down a road she didn’t want to be on. But it’s so interesting to imagine a universe where she thrived. Where the world worked in her favor. When I close my eyes, there’s no better record than The Nuclear Age of the mind’s eye. But, sadly, I’m a human. I always have to open my eyes.
WALLY BOONE: Once I was out, I was out. I cashed my checks. I was lucky to have anything left. Why would I give a solitary fuck after that? I got into restaurants after that. Made a killing. That’s what it’s all about.
JANEY PANTO: The last time I saw her? Of course I remember. She said she was going to move to New Mexico, I don’t know why. I drove her to a greyhound stop in the middle of nowhere. We didn’t speak the whole drive. I had a disposable camera on me, and I was taking pictures of like, the cactus, and old cans on the side of the road. But I turned around, and I saw her looking back at me. The wind was kicking her dress around, and she was shielding her eyes from the sun. And for one moment, she smiled at me, and I just took a picture. I hadn’t seen her smile like that in such a long time. I’m so glad that’s the picture I have, of her smile. Then she got on the bus, and I never saw her again.
Annie Fish — Weird Like Me
Recorded October 2018-December 2021
In Albuquerque, New Mexico and Chicago, IL.
Songs Written, Arranged, Performed, and Produced by Annie Fish.
Oral History Written and Illustrated by Annie Fish.
This project was made with the help of the generous people who subscribe to my Patreon. If you'd like to know more about the making of this project, see the illustrations as they were made, and hear the songs as they were written and recorded, consider subscribing. Love on ya! —A.