"Where am I?"

"In the village."

"What do you want?"

"Information"

"Whose side are you on?"

"That would be telling. We want information."

"You won't get it."

"By hook or by crook... we will."

"Who are you?"

"The new Number Two"

"Who is Number One?"

"You are Number Six."

So begins the introduction to the 1960s British television series, "The Prisoner." The show was spun-off from "Danger Man," an earlier Bond-style spy drama-- though more might remember the animated Nickelodeon parody "Danger Mouse" better. Both employed heavy-handed over-acting, but "The Prisoner" burst into a realm all its own with a spree of psychedelically colored studio sets and hat-trick special effects that made the series one of TV's all-time oddest. The plot: a spy resigns from Her Majesty's Secret Service and gets abducted to an island where people are brainwashed into revealing damaging secrets: "information." Like, paranoia, man.

The dialogue above is also sampled in the title track of Toenut's debut album. In this edition of "Bands That Time Forgot," we examine Information in light of ex-Pitchforker Holly Day's weak 1996 review of the Atlanta band's second album, Two in the Piñata. Her five-sentence summary is accurate, in that they do sound a bit like a "happy, poppier Primus." But her insight that, "You really have to be in the mood to listen to this, or just not pay too much attention while you do," doesn't provide much in the way of information.

Toenut, you see, deserve more than a summary. Guitarists Skipper Hartley and Richie Edelson set up a tight dynamic, interlocking linear menace with sugary garnish. Likewise, bassist Chris Collins and drummer Colin English drive every song with quick time changes that have more to do with goofy, good-natured surf-rock than mathematical post-punk. But Katie Walters' vocals are what you notice, first. Her sweet pitch and slight southern accent hide the fact that she has a muscular set of lungs she's not afraid to use. "Seizure," for example, runs through most of its duration with sing-song verses, but ends as Walters shatters glass with incredibly high-pitched near-yodeling.

Walters' lyrics are generally indecipherable, but when you can make them out, you find they're twisted and, on occasion, even a bit disturbing. "Hookworm" has Walters revealing that the "hookworm in my belly eats my insides." Insanity ensues as a rabid guitar eggs on a wobbling bassline while the band employs a sample of a 50s instructional film that reassures: "We're going to get those worms out of you!" Toenut use their sampler with reserve, though, adding infomercial snippets here or there for a little decoration; the songs rarely rely on cheap gimmickry for their rock attack. For the most part, the sampler lifts effects, presumably, from old-school horror films; a few tracks here fade in with ambient clanging, groaning and screeching.

Toenut also have a penchant for luring you in with bouncy, head-bobbing melodies, only to ambush with wild axe chops. In the album's title track, the bass chugs, taunted by blaring guitar, until the percussion explodes and Walters lets out some throat-curdling screams. Later tracks have a simple ambition to them, like "Leviathan," which shifts out of its pop-punk insanity with a really nasty groove they borrowed straight from Jimmy Page, or "Heyward," whose angry guitars bely a charming chorus, complete with cowbell hits.

Toenut played their wild, erratic rock music for the sake of rock itself, no pretension added. Information's successor, Two in the Piñata, was an even more ambitious album, fusing their progressive songwriting with a number of styles. But that success left a too-commercial taste in the mouths of some, as the production on Information was rawer and brimming with possibility.

Sadly, Chris Collins died in a car crash on the way back from a gig in Florida. Colin English and Richie Edelson left to play in one of Man or Astro-Man's Clone Projects, and Toenut fell apart. But our story ends well, as mainstays Katie Walters and Skipper Hartley married, and then formed Tyro, whose debut, Audiocards, received a positive review from also-ex-Pitchforker Craig Griffith. And so ends this episode of "Bands That Time Forgot." Be seeing you.

"I am not a number, I am a free man!"

"A-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-hahahahaha!!!"

-Christopher Dare