Masters of Puppets: The Rock-afire Explosion Story
Noise
But it was on the Internet that his renaissance began. Bored one evening, Thrash searched for "Showbiz Pizza Place" online and was shocked to find a community of like-minded fans. "I just thought I was some weirdo," he says. Thrash tracked down Fechter and purchased (for an undisclosed amount) his very own Rock-afire Explosion. Through a fan site, Thrash met Ard, who taught him how to program the robots. As a goof, one night in 2006, the two reprogrammed the band to perform Bubba Sparxxx's "Ms. New Booty." By Thrash's estimation, they worked "in a 24-hour nonstop no-sleep binge" to input each movement and then posted the results on YouTube. Brett Whitcomb, a Houston-based filmmaker, saw the video and was "pretty blown away," he says. "This was something that I totally forgot about, and now it was brought back to me in such a cool way." Whitcomb soon began shooting a documentary, The Rock-afire Explosion (set to hit the film festival circuit this fall), exploring the band's rise and fall and its fervent underground following.
Surprised by the viral video's success, Fechter realized he had lost "control of what the Rock-afire would perform...as well as the future value of the copyrights" to the characters. While Thrash took down "Ms. New Booty" at Fechter's request and opted to work with him on developing new videos, Ard refused. Fechter has filed copyright infringement lawsuits against Ard and those he deems "rogue programmers."
Currently, the YouTube directing duties are split between Fechter and Thrash. Fechter programs his videos in the same Orlando, Florida warehouse where the bands were originally assembled. When director Ray Tintori traveled there to shoot a Rock-afire cameo for MGMT's "Electric Feel," he was immediately struck by the old workspace. "It reminded me a lot of that scene in Blade Runner," Tintori says. "The place is just littered with half-constructed or decaying animatronics; they're alive and dead at the same time. It feels like the ruins of an empire."
In early 2008, Fechter set up a website (starsof.com/fans) where viewers can donate money and vote to have new songs performed by the Rock-afire Explosion. (Lil Wayne's "Lollipop" and Arcade Fire's "Neighborhood #1" are the most recent winners.) While Fechter hasn't obtained permission to use these songs, many artists are flattered to receive the Rock-afire treatment. Against Me!'s Gabel says he got a kick out of seeing a bear and a mouse sing his band's "Borne on the FM Waves of the Heart." "Whether or not people liked the song, they couldn't argue it wasn't a cool video," he says.
For Thrash, the Rock-afire's return means far more than a brief blip of Internet notoriety. "It's my escape from reality," he says. "I can go back to my childhood anytime I want." Thrash channels his emotions via the robots, as his most recent video attests. Set to Michael Bublé's "Lost," it's a tribute to his father, who passed away this summer. "I didn't cry at my dad's funeral," he confesses, "but I cried through the whole program." There is something uncanny about a dog in a silver spacesuit pounding the drums as he lip-synchs lyrics about human loss while family photos fl oat past the screen. "There's a lot of heart involved in that show," Thrash says. "I'm not just some crazy nerd that got an animatronics show -- the Rock-afire Explosion is part of me."
























