Dawe Bryant

The tale of Lunaractive is one of triumph, courage, fortitude, but mostly embarrassment. For nearly 7 years it’s members lay dormant, hungry…well, no, not hungry, because they weren’t spending all their time and money to buy used musical equipment and shirt making supplies.  To tell you the truth they have been eating pretty well, and living happily starting families and careers.  But we aren’t here to talk about smiles and wedding rings, we’re here to get down to the nitty gritty, the real dirty dirt.

Anthony “Moon” Munoz starting this whole thunder train as a foolish attempt to win back the heart of an ex lover, that didn’t work, at all, but what did work was Lunar’s ability to rock huge mega balls all over the small town they lived in.  Formed in 2000, year of the Balls, Lunaractive came out swinging. Joined by Ethan Nicolle, Brandon Sause, and a metric crap ton of drummers (everyone incredible skin beaters),  they ruled over their city with an iron rock fist. But it wasn’t enough, it’s never enough, rock warlords always want more. So they completed their quadro-rock force with Kyle Paradis and moved to Portland, OR. 

The boy’s of Lunar went Schwarzenegger and destroyed the rock jungles of Oregon and Washington, they also ventured to most western states, if only just to say they have serenaded bison and swam in the rivers below Mount Rushmore, which they did.

Incase you’re wondering, yes, they put out a few musical ear meals.  In 2003 came Intergalactic Samurai. This record introduced us to Lunaractive.  It was rough around the edges but still pulled the heart strings of all those who got the pleasure of listening to it.  In 2004 came Synthesis which added more hard rock and also gave us more reasons blast off like a rockets at shows. Then in 2007 came Today For Tomorrow, Lunar’s coming of age album. It’s was fun, unique, and totally ball exploding.

They put out some pretty good tracks but it was the fans that really set Lunaractive apart from rest of the who bands they shared stages, amphitheaters, and living room floors with.  The fans weren’t fans as much as friends. Yes, the shows were great but hanging out afterward was always the best part of playing for the guys, and I believe the fan would agree. 

It’s been a while since the guys were seen screaming the word balls and flailing around on stage like crazed lumberjacks, but I don’t think we should consider a reunion show out of the realm of possibility, totally and utterly insane, yes.  Although by that time they might just be in wheelchairs and be sporting colostomy bags.

So as the sun sets on our story of woe, we reflect on the good times we had, the tears of laughter we shared, and how we all consulted with medical professionals to stop of saying “balls” at family gathering and during prayer.  We hope to see you again, if not on stage, just sharing a cup of chai tea…balls.