jack the ripper was sitting in his kitchen idly fingering through recipes when the idea of naming a rock and roll band harlem first came to him. when he asked his cat, watermelon, if he should pursue it; his cat said "nah man, british music sucks and you got your own thing going on anyway." but like most cats, watermelon was tortured by the fact that he, like sky goddess frigga, had the power to know the future but was too lazy to change it.
as watermelon grew on in years he gave the name to a few talented people he came across at bingo parlors and novelty gift shops. notably: a town in poland, a neighborhood in new york, a group of talented basketball players, a renaissance, a polish steel mill group, and two techno djs from occupied berlin.
on watermelon's death bed he stated that he was happy that he had gotten laid in every state in the US ("by a local!") and that he no longer felt burdened by anything he ever thought might be a good idea but never fully realized. most people agreed and his funeral procession was by all accounts the best funeral procession of any cat (or president) since Garfield's gargantuan body was dragged though the streets of tombstone arizona.
but like most happy endings there is usually a less glamorous prologue inhabited by the notable figures less reputable lineage. watermelon's great grandson, a tabby named skullcrusher, fell in with a crowd of lowlifes in nashville and while high on crystal meth, told two drunks he met in a bar called the crow that they should consider starting a band with the name previously mentioned.
although far better choices for band names were available, the two decided to strip the word of all social and historical reference and use it to move their version of derivative pop from the small basements of friends houses to the slightly larger basements of shitty nightclubs. like the remake of the movie cat people with natassja kinski, the songs they wrote would turn into feral cats that use peoples brains as litter boxes (incidentally the scene where kinski turns into a panther is so fucking awesome.)
the two left nashville and traveled around the country getting odd food service jobs and cashing inheritance checks from dead relatives. it wasn't until a mysterious accident involving a girl wearing a white zombie t shirt forced the band to find a permanent residence. after hearing of a town in which no musical instrument had ever been played the two decided to move to austin texas and hope that after the novelty of music wore off on their new home's inhabitants they might be able to marry wealthy oil tycoons with a taste for only slightly passed their prime young men. unfortunately the oil tycoons had no interest in anything sexual with anything other than piles of money that they would shape as dollar signs.
then the two men found themselves a gentleman bass player from mexico city and decided to travel across the country looking for uncomfortable places to sleep. they are currently underwater in a sensory deprivation chamber playing adam sandler movies in their heads.
harlem are coomers, curtis, jose