“Generic-liquor cocktail parties, driving to clubs in f!@#@!-up Valiants, Seagrams 7 snuck into downtown hell bars.

This was the Fibonacci Era, A shrapnel-shard in LA’s so-called cultural history, when people swore blood allegiances to obscure bands that vanished before there third gigs.

As a combo, The Fibonaccis played a tingling blend of 60’s pop and art-school smarm,

Rota, Theodorkaris and Morricone all surfaced in Fib compositions, partly, tounge in cheek, partly sincere homage. And yet the Fibs were no mere imitators.

For all their records may have sounded like gleeful musical scavenger hunts (Weill and Hermann also figure into their oeuvre), there was also a shimmering originality about there music.

Their unique, eccentric presence set them apart from most other bands of the early ’80 making them club favorites and derisions targets of style-conscious robots.

The Fibonaccis were not afraid to appear intelligent nor acting stupid.

One moment they could be snide and the next, sappily sentimental.

It was this strange hybrid of sarcastic naivete that either endeared them to audiences of alienated them.

The band also possessed a sweet dedication to getting people to dance and have fun at their shows.

When Maggie Song got up on the stage dressed as a prim British Nurse or Sultry vamp, a flood of physical and intellectual energy swept the room.

It’s a energy that has been sorely misses in the hangover haze of the ’90s.

The Fibonaccis were both erratic, and entertaining, obvious and enigmatic; they belong to that time in our lives when a red light meant go. ”

Quote found on page 4 of the booklet to Restless Records 7 72725-2.

Repressed The best of the Fibonaccis 1981-1987

Credit Steven Mikulan

Los Angels, California 1992