An interview with Count Jabula of Iowa's Canned Meat Factory and Rock Band, Human Aftertaste
by Mike Huberty
Quad Cities’ HUMAN AFTERTASTE mixes punk rock, electro, costumes, skits, delightful vulgarity, and a canned meat one level below spam into a ridiculous rock n’ roll performance art party that is equal parts GWAR, Trailer Park Boys, and buttsex jokes. Marketed as a canned meat company with headquarters in Iowa and a motto of “eat our meat!”, they’ve been shock-rocking their way through the nation and happily offending all comers (they even have a webpage purely dedicated to hate mail.) We took some time to speak with their singer, proud NASCAR enthusiast, Count Jabula, to discuss their upcoming Madison CD Release Party at Inferno with Foxy Veronica’s Peach Pies Burlesque Show on Friday, March 16th.
Maximum Ink: What inspired you to play in the first place?
Count Jabula: Myself. I just kept checkin’ my self out in the mirror like singing all them hit songs like “Once Bitten, Twice Shy”, “Up All Night”, “Pour Some Sugar On Me”. Ya know, the fuckin’ king daddy hits and I just looked good doing it. I’d just listen to my own voice for hours saying all sorts of shit and I just ended up crying one night because I figured I sound like an angel should sound. And that made me tear up and take the mic and never look back at the haters trying get into my draft.
MI: Who was your favorite artist growing up? What inspired the name?
Count Jabula: Dale Earnhardt, Sr. #3, forever pimp. I mean the way I figure if he would have sang, or played a man axe, or farted “Dixie” out his ass - it would have been the best art you ever heard because he was the greatest racer of all time. Going left 500 hundred times pretty much makes you good at anything. The Human Aftertaste corp made me work for ‘em because they knew only one man could tame millions of men who wanted so much Meat in their mouths. Dunno where the god damn name came from, I didn’t start this ass factory.
MI: What do you think is the perfect song for people to listen to for their first Human Aftertaste experience?
Count Jabula: It’s perfect to come over and listen to me takin’ a big dump. I ate that first can of Human Aftertaste and it just sat their like a rock on toppa my mac n cheese, 4 powdered doughnuts, and 2 BBQ hot pockets, a bag of Twizzlers, and a bag of Oreos. So this lump o’ meat is trying to push past all ‘dis other stuff in my tummy and it’s going gang busters on mu b-hole. Ever drop a Fridge into a muddy swimming pool? Listen to that n you got yer Human Aftertaste experience down.
MI: What drives you to make the music that you do?
Count Jabula: See, dude, you talk about drive and you know that its all about the NASCAR Super Star Count Jabula! I do all the driving up in this shit can. People wanna jump on my stick shift and the prob is they can only hang in there for a couple of gear changes, bitch, then I pinch em off like I’m cuttin’ some rope. If you need a driver I’m here, stupid dummy. Sure my OWI’s got DUI’s but that don’t stop a true die hard fly hard racer like me. The music is the motor and the motor is the music, rev it up and let’s go get some death pounding drums, Goffhick electro bang bang n some Punk rock cock retard.
MI: Can you describe a little bit one your most memorable performing experiences?
Count Jabula: I was cranked up on gold spray paint and had just popped two yellow jackets when the blotter kicked in full speed and the Lonnie passed me off a joint rolled with strawberry paper n im sure this shit was done up old school like a wickey stick. So all this is coming at me when Bosco gets the snake water out, ya know when you put the stove gas pipe into a jug a water and ya drink it? After killin 2 bottles of Apple Boones Farm and 1/5 of Wild Turkey I said, “The hell with it, let’s hit this hot new bathtub crank Marlon has been workin’ on.” Long story short, I’m sure that night was good.
MI: Anything you wanna mention before your upcoming Madison show at The Inferno?
Count Jabula: You turds need accept Threedom into your lives. Because Dale #3 forever turned right for your sins. He died at Daytona because you can’t race. He had to show you that racing is for real men and the rest of you need to watch dudes like me take the checkered flag. So on this big NASCAR track we call life you gotta give it all you can and put yer pedal to the metal and you’ll lose like most sissy baby doo das do. #3 lives in me and I’m out here killin’ it, slangin’ this Meat so the rest of you dummies can sit back and watch a true racer hit the stage and belt out tunes while I melt yer pussies to the track. Here’s to me and here’s to the Human Aftertaste Corp and oh yeah remember to “Eat Our Meat!”