For an intro to this series, click here. For the original series way back in 2009, click here.

My post yesterday, which referenced a collegiate memory, prompted another, which I have not ever written about on this site, a fact I find very difficult to believe. Because it is legend among me and a small group of friends.

My junior year of college, I lived in a five-guy suite. This was definitely my favoritest time at college, since me and my roommates would often engage in goofy shenanigans and goings-on. One of my roommates this year worked at the radio station and would often book bands to play there. Not necessarily bands he dug, but work is work, and experience is experience. As such, he came home with armloads of demo CDs he had no intention of ever listening to, nor did the rest of us.

However, for reasons that have been lost to the mists of time, one day we decided to pop one of these CDs in the stereo. It was by a band called Windigo. The first track was called “C and M (Confident and Militant).” It started with the lead “singer” intoning this manifesto, spoken:

I’m confident
I’m militant
I’m a living, breathing accident.

He then began rapping, over no music, the following lyrics:

Ain’t never ever been to South Central
But the pain in my brain still makes me go mental!

Followed by some lyrics about “the power of one,” after which he literally said BREAK-DOWN! And the music kicked in. Rap-rock was still in its infancy as a genre at the time, so none of us were really prepared for what we were hearing. It sounded like outtakes from a session for background music from a Navy commercial.

Even if the style was new to us, we did know funny when we heard it, and this was hilarious. We rewound the BREAK-DOWN! part and replayed it a good 10 times before proceeding. The rest of the song was basically an extended jam of Nutritional Supplement Rock, with the repeated refrain I’M CONFIDENT! I’M MILITANT!

We became obsessed with this song, to the point where we had Windigo Parties. We’d put on “C and M” to get psyched up to go out, or when we woke up in the morning, or just on a lazy afternoon. But we wouldn’t just listen to it. We’d do a full-on hardcore version of a Soul Train line dance, where we’d all take turns doing ridiculous slamdance-type moves, or whatever dumb gyrations came to mind.

Me, I used to alternate between The Lawnmower and The Charleston. There was also a move we all did that had no real name. Let’s call it The Orb. You pretended to roll/shine an imaginary glowing sphere in your hands, then pass it along to someone else. Why? Why not?

Did I mention that we would do this with girls in our suite? What’s more amazing is that guys whose idea of good time was having Windigo Parties would ever have girls in their suite. I didn’t say they were there for long, just that they entered the premises at some point.

Sadly, that demo CD was lost in the shuffle and mishegoss of college life. Amazingly, considering the role it played in our lives, no one seems to know what happened to it. Windigo put out a full length in 1998 that did NOT include “C and M.” And since that demo predated the explosion of online file sharing, all of my efforts to find it online have been fruitless.

If you happen to have access to a copy of this song, you do not know what I would pay to own it. No price is too high. I may even regale you with my rendition of The Orb.