After a mid-eighties stint as Rob Neville's personal assistant, masseur and fleischflaut tech, Brock Linahan lent his considerable talent and rock-and-roll acumen to a promising young Gainesville outfit yclept The Fucks. Though Linahan chose to remain largely behind the scenes in a managerial capacity, he did contribute some backing tracks to the band's first album, "Tone Deaf and Clueless." His principle instrument had always been the fleischflaut, but on this recording his versatility was showcased as he pounded arythmically an a piece of sheet-metal with a runcible spoon. One local rock critic described Linahan's performance as "an unnerving musical foray into dementia." Many claimed that Linahan had stolen his musical ideas from Rob Neville. While this is undoubtedly true, Linahan played with such a spastic fury that he made the music all his own. In fact, Linahan had made the music so much his own that people would leave him alone for hours, removing themselves to a distant location so as not to intrude on the artist and his muse. As the manager of The Fucks, Linahan was responsible for tending to the band's every need and whim. If Doug needed an adult diaper at three in the morning, it was Linahan who drove to Albertson's with a sack of sticky pennies excavated from his considerable collection of couches. If Phil needed a foot-rub after a particularly enthusiastic revelry, it was Linahan who steeled his resolve and rolfed the objectionable extremities. And whenever the boys needed to sleep off a Cisco and amyl nitrate jag, Linahan's considerable collection of couches embraced the lads as with the arms of Morpheus. Whether regaling beery frat boys in a UPD holding cell, or providing background noise for a sloppy keg party in the Student Ghetto, The Fucks could always be counted on to be there. This, perhaps, was the genius of Brock Linahan. He had a van and he had a watch. And lots of couches.