“Everyday I try to connect to living my best life,” says Norwood Fisher, checking in with SPIN after a morning surf session near his home in Santa Monica—clearly living his best life. Getting out on the water with his board used to be a daily activity for the bassist. But, he says, “just functioning with Fishbone and all the things I was up to, I couldn’t do it. I had to attend to the business, and then some days turned into some months, and it was like, ‘Oh, I’ve only surfed three or four times in a year.’ Now I’m surfing every day.”
Presently, Fisher is no longer with Fishbone. As revealed back in April, Fisher—a founding member of the band and, along with singer Angelo Moore, the only constant in the lineup since their formation in 1979—has split with the group. Over the course of their decades together, Fishbone pioneered a sound that mashed together ska, punk, funk, soul, rock, reggae, metal, and more into an iconoclastic and incendiary stew, establishing themselves first as darlings of the underground and, for a moment in the alternative-culture dominating early ‘90s, the mainstream.
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Aftershock Festival at Discovery Park on October 12, 2019 in Sacramento, California. (Credit: Miikka Skaffari/FilmMagic)
While the band itself has always been volatile—“the Fishbone thing, there’s always dysfunction,” as Fisher puts it—he says the current flare-up was further fueled by “some wack-ass business shit.” When the dust settled, Fisher and another original member, trombonist “Dirty” Walter Kibby (who had returned in 2010), were out of the band, followed by guitarist Mark Phillips, who departed a few months later. Remaining were Moore and original keyboardist Chris Dowd (who returned in 2018), and they rebuilt the lineup with new players.
The public announcement “kind of slapped me in the face,” says Fisher, who maintains that he did not quit Fishbone. Rather, he believed the band had agreed to take a hiatus, only to later learn that they begun booking shows without him. “So there’s anger, there’s hurt, there’s a lot of emotion.”
For Fisher, there’s also still a lot of musical activity. Even as he fits in more surfing, he remains incredibly busy creatively, with many solo and collaborative projects on his plate. Here, he discusses what he’s been up to, as well as what went down with Fishbone.
“I don’t harbor any ill will or hatred toward those dudes,” he stresses. “But there’s a lot of healing to be done.”
Fisher at Commodore Barry Park on August 27, 2016 in Brooklyn, New York. (Credit: Mireya Acierto/WireImage)
What are some of the musical endeavors you’re currently pursuing?
My main thing is Trulio Disgracias, which has been my labor of love since probably 1987. It’s ultimately just a big funk conglomeration, built in the tradition of the ancestors, where you bring in a whole tribe of people to make it happen. It’s a Fela Kuti; Funkadelic; Earth, Wind & Fire-sized band—like 17 to 21 people. At its heyday it was probably 27 people. So that’s my baby, and I’ve been recording it since probably 2006. I’ve got a bunch of stuff in the can, and I’m positioning myself to complete and release music from over the years.
Then I have another project called the Familyhood Nextperience. It’s a concept based around doing all-improvised dub reggae with the members of Fishbone. I came up with the name “Familyhood” because I was thinking about the Fishbone fan base. And the “Nextperience” part is just [that] I like to play with words, and I was thinking about having a future experience, now. I’ve so far just released a song called “To the Hilt,” and we have a video too.
I’ve also created this alter ego—Woody Woodstraw, the Devil’s Son-in-Law. It’s something I do that’s acoustic. I’m a bassist, but I taught myself how to play guitar and started writing songs. I’ve recorded two so far. The whole thing is, Woody Woodstraw is like a cartoon character who thought it’d be a good idea to marry all six of the devil’s daughters, and that made him the sole heir to the throne of hell. But he didn’t sign up for that part. It got him into a permanent chase thing with his father-in-law because he does not want that gig.
Fernando Pullum Community Arts Center, February 13, 2015 in Los Angeles, California. (Credit: Araya Doheny/Getty Images)
Recently you performed a gig in San Francisco with a trio named TEN—tell us about that.
That’s with [drummer] Thomas Pridgen from the Mars Volta and [guitarist and singer] Eric McFadden. We call it TEN because it’s Thomas, Eric, Norwood. We had recorded something together a while back, and it never got properly released. But I love it because those guys are virtuosos. It pushed me to my limit. So we played again the other weekend, and the vibe was good.
There’s also a few other things going on: I’m an active member in a band called Luis Oliart & the Hinges, and there’s THINK:X, which is a project with [Jane’s Addiction drummer] Stephen Perkins; Kenny Olson, who played with Kid Rock; Scott Page from Pink Floyd; [singer] Roberta Freeman; [Classless Act vocalist] Derek Day; and Will Champlin. And there are other people that come in and out, but that’s basically how we ride. If I keep thinking about it, there’s probably more that I’m up to, band-wise. [Laughs]
Where do things stand between you and Fishbone?
I’m gonna say that deep in my spirit, I am complete with the Fishbone thing. Like, I don’t care if I ever talk to them dudes again. Which is really super unfortunate. Because I love them as human beings. I met Chris when I was 12. I met Angelo when I was 14. I’ll be 59 in a few days. That’s a long time to know somebody.
The Los Angeles Film Festival, June 19, 2010. (Credit: Noel Vasquez/WireImage)
What was the band dynamic between you guys, particularly recently?
I tell people, “Go watch the Fishbone documentary [Everyday Sunshine: The Story of Fishbone] if you want to see the dynamic.” Anybody who does can see, like, I’m the dude that steered the ship. Angelo, he’s hyper-creative, and he’s got his own projects, and he would come to Fishbone and say, “I got these other things that I do where no one says no to me.” He wanted Fishbone to be a place where no one says no. And I’d have to look him in the eye and go, “Angelo, Fishbone is not that place.” People say no to me, and that’s okay. I don’t want to be in a situation where no one says no. Not even in my own bands. I like checks and balances.
Did you leave? Were you kicked out?
Neither. In the end, we had gotten to a point where Angelo had a list of demands, and he was like, “Adhere to my demands, or let’s go on a hiatus until we figure it out.” We came together on a Zoom conference call. Not the whole band—most of the band. And I went in to try to negotiate, like, “Okay, I think I could bend here…” But I was quickly met with, “Adhere to my demands or we’re going on a hiatus.” And I’m like, “Fuck your ultimatum, let’s do this hiatus thing.” Then I see that they have begun to book shows. And then I heard they were auditioning new people. That’s how I found out.
That was the first wave of hurt. And believe me, I had some angry thoughts. I’m human and a motherfucker. I very quickly calmed all of that down. But I played music with Angelo continuously from that first time that the full original members of the band were all in the room together until that last show at the Great American Music Hall in San Francisco on December 30, 2023. I’m like, “I have given enough to those guys. I can be okay.”
Clearly, you’re staying busy and have your musical future. Looking back, what do you see as the legacy of Fishbone?
Well, let me just start with this: The name of the band is based on my family name. You know what I mean? It was my younger brother’s nickname. So it’s a family name. And Angelo and I still co-own the name. I have to legally dispute the trademark, but…
But the foundation of the band is actually six guys that were friends, who met at a really young age and discovered music and the world together. And I saw Fishbone as a forever brotherhood. So, honestly, there’s something about the question that’s kind of difficult to answer. What is the legacy of Fishbone? It’s hard to be objective about it. When I look at Fishbone, it’s just my life, you know?
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