Profile: Eric Krans


Eric John John* Krans; born in Southbridge, Massachusetts
nicknames: Krans, Kransy, Funk Hog, Rockin Ricky
loves: “I love my wife Jennifer. I love my family and I love my friends. I also love Thom York, Bjork,
Victoria Legrand, Serena Williams, and Jacques Cousteau.”

* “My full name really is Eric John, John Krans. For my 10th grade Catholic Confirmation, I tried to the cheat the system by picking my middle name as my confirmation name. It wasn’t until I stood before the Bishop, and heard him announce my name loud and clear, to a congregation full of family and friends, that I realized I had made a regretful decision.”

IMGP4553“I’ve been playing music since before I was born. The story goes that late in 1979, my mom (who was quite pregnant with me) offered to be a chaperone for the church youth group to see the band Kansas. She said that arena was full of “smoke that smelled funny.” She was informed that it was the smoke of a substance called marijuana. The music was so loud that she said she couldn’t think, never mind chaperone a bunch of teenagers. And then in the middle of a song, she started to get this funny feeling that her stomach was playing the rhythm of the music. And here I am, this little fetal child of 8 months kicking a rhythm. She said I was kicking and punching exactly to the beat. Now you tell me, was my mom stoned? Did she get high for the first time at a Kansas concert and start think high-thoughts? Or was I in that womb banging out a drum beat? (Also, this begs the next question: when was the first time I got high?)”


“The most memorable show I’ve ever played might be the farthest show I’ve ever played away from home. It was the time I played a couple of songs in Pai, Thailand. We were at this really cool little teak and bamboo bar in this bohemian rice paddy village in the middle of the mountains. The drive there was harrowing. As were most drives in Thailand. Up and around hairpin mountain turns at full speed with our driver slamming on the horn to warn drivers coming back down the mountain that we’re a-comin’ up. We had talked about how some of the greener tourists were somehow duped into taking tuktuks up to Pai, which are Thai motorized open air tricycles. Nobody should have been going by tuktuk to Pai. But we kept passing them on the way up, and their passengers looked cross-eyed.


“When we got to Pai, we checked out these cool bamboo cabins on stilts down by the river. We hoped to stay there, but they were all full up. And while we were standing there contemplating what to do next, a cute little monkey came running out toward us. It jumped through my outstretched arms and ran over to Jen. It climbed up her leg and on to her shoulder where it started to masturbate in her hair. It needed to be extracted by people who could hardly see or talk from crippling laughter. I, meanwhile was taking pictures:


“So anyways, back to the teak and bamboo bar. We had been sitting on the floor amongst hippie travelers from all over the world watching this Thai reggae band play for about an hour. During their set break I asked the leader of the band if I could jump up on the mic and play a song or two. He was enthusiastic about it, and so was the audience. I played two songs and then started to jam this reggae style riff as the band joined in. Here I am in far off venue playing to a motley crew of world travelers and I became overwhelmed with the need to sing about my day. So I started singing about monkey masturbation and harrowing drives and settled on to a chorus. An anthem:

We took the bus to Pai
we took the bus to Pai
no tuktuk to Pai
no tuktuk to Pai
we took the bus to Pai…

By the end of the song it was full blown insanity. Everybody was dancing or jamming or singing in total ecstasy.”

Read more member profiles HERE