There are several stories.
1. In 1978, while traveling through Italy on the European leg of their world tour, Aram and Rossi, the hidden masterminds behind Swedish supergroup ABBA, stopped in a small village west of Parma in search of the perfect prochuitto sandwich. While there, they were entranced by the musical stylings of an organ grinder, which had attracted a sizable crowd. They inched closer to the sweet sounds, only to see a poor enslaved monkey tied to the organ doing back flips for pocket change. This event had a profound effect on both of them, as the ironic juxtaposition of the beautiful music with the image of an indentured monkey sporting a change cup while doing a pathetic little jig did not escape them (although they were not so depressed as to be inhibited from scarfing down several prochuitto sandwiches). Saddened and bloated, they reflected upon their role in the music industry, how they were like -- nay, were -- mere stunt monkeys trapped in an insidious corporate scheme, bouncing around on stage, playing sweet little ditties for mere pennies, while the giant conglomerate record company profited from the hard-earned fruits of their labor and quickly sucked away their souls like a starved, coked-up Chris Farley inhaling the crumbs from the bottom of a box of Little Debby's snack cakes. From that moment on, they vowed to form a band that pointed out this irony -- indeed, the very title of the band would point out the unfortunate plight of all aspiring musicians in their quest for artistic validation while needing to succumb to big business in order to share that dream with an audience that could not fit inside a phone booth -- that name would be Stunt Monkey.
2. H.A. Rey, creator of Curious George (the ultimate stunt monkey) was, sadly, on his deathbed in 1977 after a long illness. While he was proud of his accomplishment of teaching every American-raised child, through protagonist C.G., how to raise hell, break things, get arrested -- and still not get in significant trouble with their parents for doing so, he still felt unfulfilled. What he really desired was that every child reared under the Curious George ethic of well-intentioned mayhem and destruction would have continuing role models into their teenage and adult lives who would reinforce this lifestyle. Therefore, he provided in his will a small trust towards establishing a band that, through its music, would promote George's mission. The band would definitely have to play happy, poppy music, he thought. It would be imperative that this band's lyrics sound like something written by Dr. Seuss on five bottles of NyQuil. And it wouldn't hurt if the members LOOKED a little bit like Curious George with really bad haircuts. Twenty years later, his dream was fulfilled as his widow, Margaret, ventured down to San Jose's Cactus Club after scoring a few new piercings (We won't say where.) As Aram, Rossi, and Greg fired up their set and Margaret felt compelled to dive head first into the huge, developing mosh, she knew that H.A.'s final wish had been fulfilled. She named the band Stunt Monkey.
3. After their first trip into the recording studio in July 1997, the mighty primates who were to become Stunt Monkey could still not decide what moniker to assign their musical adventure. After playing two small shows for friends, relatives, and farm animals under two different names (the first with the profoundly trite name "Gravy," the latter under the short-lived and stupid name "Luxury"), the band was both unsatisfied and, well, in need of a name very soon as the album needed text on the cover. As such, Greg, Aram, and Rossi began to do what many desperate musicians do when they attempt to name their band -- they started blurting out nonsensical phrases at random. Aided by their creativity, lack of sleep, and several malted beverages, the wily bunch finally came up with the name Stunt Monkey (after irritating everyone within earshot of them) and immediately informed the printer. This decision was not unaccompanied by some remorse, however, as Aram and Rossi returned to the Bachelor Pad and, upon reading local listings in the San Jose Metro, realized that several other bands also believed that having the word "monkey" in one's band name was cool (Sprung Monkey, Space Monkeys, the Flying Monkeys, Monkey, etc.). However, the determined hominids decided to stick with the name and despite the frequent and irritating question, "Do you guys do that song, "Get 'Em Outta Here?", they're happy that they did. (And, no, we can't get you tickets to the Sprung Monkey concert, so don't ask.)
4. The year was 1955. Aram, formerly "Chin Chin," had been elected by the Russian Space Program to be the first primate in orbit. This was a proud day for the young chimp, as the publicity would make him a star and the apple of every young female monkey's eye. That and he'd get a really cool silver suit. As the appointed time for the launch approached, Chin Chin, er, Aram, was nervous. Something wasn't right with the rocket ship -- the new fuel mixture used for the first time on this trip was untested and too powerful. The evil Russian scientists had carelessly miscalculated the strength of the fuel when were trying to make a deadline so they could run home to catch the new episode of Howdy Doody. Chin Chin knew that his little monkey death was imminent; the synapses in his walnut-sized primate brain were popping like that bubbly stuff they put in packages when you squeeze it. There was nothing he could do. Lift off! The pointy metal tube into which Chin Chin was strapped shot into space with the force of Oprah Winfrey leaving a Weight Watcher's meeting to get chocolate cake. The rocket left the stratosphere with such fury that the fuselage was ripped apart, not unlike David Hasselhoff's silk shirt during his special appearance at the Barstow K-Mart. The writer ran out of bad analogies faster than... Oh. Anyway, the space-time continuum had been broken by the spaceship's speed! All of Chin Chin's genetic material was somehow altered in a process that only science-type people understand. Chin Chin was transmorfed from a chimp in to a human being -- well, into Aram. Also, fortunately for this story, the year somehow changed to 1997. As he re-entered the Earth's atmosphere aided by his super space parachute, Aram swore to create a band whose music would duplicate the sensation he had just experienced: fast, unique, and, well, a little sloppy. He also decided to name the band after his former career: Stunt Monkey.
Why is there a bottle of pills on the cover of the For the Ear album? Are you guys a bunch of prescription drug addicts, or something?
Yeah, right. Actually, the boys came up with the idea for the album cover after Aram got an ear infection and the medicine bottle that he got had that "For the Ear" sticker on it. As one of a long series of copyright-infringing moves, they decided to incorporate that sticker on the cover of the album. (They also figured that For the Ear was a better title for the album than May Cause Drowsiness.) As for the pills spilling out of the bottle and looking somewhat like M&Ms, some see it as kind of a sarcastic observation about how DOW Chemicals' "better living through chemistry" slogan of the 1960's is truer today than ever. Suffice it to say that when you're feeling down, the boys kinda like to think that they're your sonic Prozac. ...That and Rossi's addicted to Percodan. But, shhhhh, don't tell anyone.
Do chickens have nipples?
No.
How is Aram's goiter problem?
Aram is resting quietly after a recent episode. He should be ready to play the next show.
Okay, so what’s the deal with the SpinRecords.com thing? Are they your record label, or what?
Absolutely not. They went out of business, driven into the ground by their CEO, who hired cool people like Kevin Lyman and Keith Bailey, then wouldn't let them make the decisions they were hired to make. We hear that the former CEO, Wayne, molested dogs, or something. We don't know for sure. We just heard that.
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