“It’s An Icicle,” the pop-rock sensation of the world-known-to-them (existing exclusively within a finger-countable group of locals) played their last show the night of 11 August, 2009 at the renowned stadium, the Starline, cutting their tour and last shows off. The events leading to the perhaps inevitable break up of the trio happened in rapid succession, though the band’s existence cannot be explained in an unequivocal set of blood-pouring bullet points.

            Months after the unfortunate end of the fairly successful classic rock band, “Fat Free Water,” Manuel Aparicio and David Vaipan took the roles accustomed to them: singer/song writer and drum[ist]mer, respectively, to begin “It’s An Icicle,” May of 2007. Even after only their first show, 13 July, 2007, audiences could not quell craving for the then indie rock two-piece. The duo hashed out song after song, hit after hit, to venues packed with teenagers hopeful to catch a word from the heavily-hair-sprayed, purple-pantsed, Conor-Oberst-malnourished singer of the group, Manuel (Man-You-El), doubly famed for bringing like-minded popular groups to his hometown which It’s An Icicle would not miss performing with. A few months into 2008 the duo hired their first management, the republicanly obese “Chip.” False promises and thousands of dollars mismanaged dug the band into a pit of bull shit tossed to them by a silver-coated spoon. Before the release of their first hit-record, The Icicles fired Chip who, incapable of handling his failure, killed himself byway of J Crew tie asphyxiation. Then, came the record sales.

            The EP “It’s A Bicycle,” sold tens, immediately earning the duo an aluminum record. They released the record 15 July, 2008, at the same place they would later release “L’Chaim” (2008) and play their last show, the Starline stadium. Rolling Stone gave it 4 stars, and wrote, “The drummer is migraine producing at best, an utter failure . . . pretentious . . . invokes suicide as the only answer . . . at worst. The guitar riffs . . . are all the same.” Ebert and Roeper gave it Two Thumbs Up, with Ebert writing, “Maybe if the singer mentioned icicles or bicycles, instead of cancer ridden dogs named Sally, I could tolerate it . . . This is teenage angst at its talentless worst.” Needless to say, It’s An Icicle’s first release was a megaton nuclear explosion on the indie rock cork board of fame. Next came Kameron.

            Kameron Johnson added a purportedly superfluous second guitar to the band and played his first show on 26 July, 2008. The trio immediately began work on their next album before their first super! duper! tour! of the west coast. On 16 December, 2008, The Icicles released the pop-rock 8 track CD “L’Chaim,” to a fan base that must have doubled in contraction. Thus, they kicked off their first tour – from LA to Seattle – on a budget as modest as a mouse . . . as deathly as a cute cab . . . as rainy as maria . . . as get up as a kid . . . on a small budget. With only maps and atlases (they hired a cheap witless biographer too), the band toured 27 December through 11 January; playing Women’s Pool Night in Eureka, Ca, a boobie bar, the “Cat Club,” in LA, and for free chai at Mr. Spot’s Chai House in Seattle, WA, the band made it back home having lost several pounds and hi-hats for gas money. They gained a tremendous following and in the headquarters of every major record company headquarters, the cold whisper of “It’s An Icicle,” resounded.

            After January, the band took a three month hiatus and focused on writing new material. With new songs and a newfound fan base, It's An Icicle signed with the mega record label BMRS (Big Money Rock Stars) Records only two months before the precipitous demise of the 4/4 verse chorus verse chorus bridge chorus(x2) antonym of talent trio. With the money rolling in toward their next release, the "Icicle Brothers" - as the self-proclaimed lifetime fans dubbed them - soon crushed beneath a burden of celebrity and fortune. Kameron Johnson surgically had his libido excised and replaced with that of a rabbit; unable to sustain, control, or receive relief, he was forced to give up guitar after one of his friends that’s a girl found his fist clutched around a profusely bleeding penis – chafed and tore from incessant masturbation – she turned him over to a psych ward the day after their last show. Manuel Aparicio, a person who had never used any drugs before, took Tylenol to soothe a headache a week before the show. The Tylenol served as a gateway drug: Tylenol to marijuana to psychedelic mushrooms to cocaine to crystal meth to heroine to intravenously injected powdered paint scraped from stolen Rene Magritte paintings. He involuntarily goes to the famous rehab clinic, the “Humongous Head Healing Habitat Holding Hella Honored Highfalutin Halfwits.” David Vaipan awoke the morning after the last show to find his head had metamorphosed into an ass, his mouth as the asshole; thus, the prophecy foretold on the night of his conception - similar to Cain’s indelible mark of banishment, Mikhail Gorbachev’s sickle and hammer forehead birthmark, or Hitler’s holocaust mustache - did come true. However, David’s acquaintances remark that the transmogrification to an assface is an improvement upon his former “face.” It’s An Icicle will surely never be forgotten.