The Origins of the Neo-Tribal Metalsmiths

In the years since the Neo‑Tribal Metalsmiths first appeared, their beginnings have gradually softened into a kind of half‑memory. The internet preserves fragments, a photograph of a knife, a forum post, a passing reference, but the shape of the early days has become blurred by repetition and the natural drift that occurs when a local moment becomes an online idea. What remains is familiar, but not quite accurate. Yet the early history is neither lost nor obscure. It survives in the documents, the early testimonies, and the quiet clarity of what actually took place in Tucson during the mid‑1990s.

The Neo‑Tribal Metalsmiths began as a small, local organization centered around Tai Goo’s studio in central Tucson. The founding concept was his, and it was simple: a place where people could gather, learn, and experiment with metal using minimal tools and direct methods. This intention is preserved in the original newsletter he later shared publicly, where the group is introduced in his own words. It was not conceived as a movement, nor as a style, nor as a commercial venture. It was, at its core, a way to bring people together around the forge.

At the center of this concept were the full‑moon gatherings held behind Tai’s studio. These events were not incidental; they were the living expression of his vision. They were open to the public and required no admission fee, only a six‑pack of beer, which became the group’s unofficial beverage. Primitive forges were set up outdoors, lit by tiki torches, and visitors were encouraged to try their hand at forging, often for the first time. Local bands played, a sweat lodge operated, and a graffiti wall behind the studio became a canvas for spontaneous expression. The atmosphere was informal and energetic, a mixture of learning and celebration that blurred the boundaries between craft and community. It was here, under the full moon, that the early identity of the group took shape: hands‑on, communal, and unpretentious. This was the environment Tai envisioned, a place where people could learn about metalsmithing in a setting that was as playful as it was instructive.

The name of the group emerged through a similarly communal process. As Tai later explained in a thread on the KnifeDogs forum, under the handle "One", the naming was not the work of a single person. It was a process he initiated. The first suggestion, “Neo‑Primitive,” was set aside when it was discovered to be trademarked. Emily Johnston proposed “Neo‑Tribal,” a term that captured the blend of primal aesthetics and contemporary experimentation that characterized the group’s work. Tai suggested adding “Metalsmiths,” grounding the name in the craft itself. The combined title — the Neo‑Tribal Metalsmiths — was adopted by vote. It reflected the group’s early character, collaborative, practical, and rooted in shared experience.

Bill Randall was elected by vote, the first “Chief” of the Tucson organization and also served as the first editor of the newsletter, Tribal Now. Later, after Bill stepped down, Mark Ramsour was elected Chief of the “Tucson Tribe” and Matt Grogan became the editor of the newsletter. These three members were instrumental in the formation and organization of the original Tucson based group and deserve their places in the history of the Neo-Tribal Metalsmiths.

The newsletter Tribal Now, became the second channel through which the group’s ideas traveled. It documented techniques, reflections, and the evolving philosophy of the early Tucson circle. Circulating among a growing number of makers, it gave the group a voice and a sense of continuity. Through its pages, the ethos of the full‑moon gatherings reached people who had never stood behind Tai’s studio, and the first hints of a broader identity began to take shape.

A turning point came when Blade Magazine published an article titled “Go Neo‑Tribal.” This was the first major national exposure the group received, and it introduced the concept to a much wider audience. Interest grew quickly. As online forums expanded, the Neo‑Tribal identity migrated into digital spaces, where it evolved into a broader art movement shaped by many contributors. Techniques were shared, ideas were debated, and the philosophy expanded in multiple directions. The movement that emerged online was larger and more diffuse than the original organization, but it carried forward the spirit of experimentation that had defined the early Tucson circle.

It’s important to note, that without Tai’s previous global recognition for high end art knives, his BFA and MFA degrees in metalsmithing and the fact that he formed the philosophical framework for the group, it’s doubtful that the Neo-Tribal approach would have gained any traction. Tai Goo’s reputation, postmodern philosophy and academic credentials served as a launching pad for the Neo-Tribal Metalsmiths Art Movement.

As the movement grew, the original organization eventually dissolved. Internal disagreements and the natural pressures of expansion made it difficult for the small local group to continue in its original form. By the time it disbanded, however, the ideas had already taken root elsewhere. The Neo‑Tribal Metalsmiths had become something larger than the group that first gathered behind Tai’s studio. It had become an international movement, not by design, but by evolution.

Today, the early history is often overshadowed by the later online presence, and the origins are sometimes misremembered or misattributed. Yet the truth remains simple. The Neo‑Tribal Metalsmiths began as a local organization in Tucson, founded on Tai Goo’s vision of full‑moon gatherings, primitive forges, music, community, and the joy of learning together. The name was chosen collectively, the ideas spread through gatherings and newsletters, and the movement grew because people found meaning in its approach. Understanding this history restores clarity to a story that has long been clouded by distance and repetition, and it honors the spirit of the group’s earliest days, a spirit rooted in shared creativity, hands‑on exploration, and the quiet pleasure of learning in good company.

(Written in collaboration with AI-assisted tools, edited and approved by Tai Goo Forge)

12/2025