Seattle Years Disclaimer: As I enter the Seattle years in this music blog, the above disclaimer goes double, because so much happened and there are so many details to cover in this 14 year period; so many shows, so many bands, so many friends and so much change in my life. As a result of this and the fact that the four of us who formed Treepeople found ourselves in the midst of a scene which blew up around us and attracted the eyes of the world just 2 years after our arrival, not to mention the 12 years I played music following that, I am bound to, hell, I will forget something.
This means two things: I will be coming back to entries and adding things to them over the months following publication, and, that the part of the above disclaimer where I ask for help from people in keeping me honest and in remembering things is crucial to them. I thank anyone ahead of time who was there, and, those who weren't there who have access to valid info, for helping me to correct errors in dates or chronology. Yes, I have the Internet, but many bands, scenes and things I will cover did not receive the attention I feel that they deserved and thus I will recall them mostly from memory, or rather, memories; mine and those of friends. Also, friends who were in bands which I do not happen to mention, please don't take it personally, just remind me. I have created a monster in undertaking this blog, one which I am determined to ride until the end!
Lastly, as mentioned, this scene gained national attention, and thus, needless to say and as we all know, many bands/people became famous, became rock stars, were/are admired by millions, etc and etc...This makes another part of my original disclaimer even more important. This memoir is intended to tell my story, from my perspective. I have no intention of creating a place where people can seek gossip about famous people, nor is it about 'name-dropping'. I write of my impressions of people, bands, and the Seattle scene from the '90s into the early 2000s. I protect those who are my friends fiercely because a symptom of being known is frequent intrusion into their lives beyond a level that I feel is acceptable. Thank you for indulging me this disclaimer.
A kind of disclaimer on Violent Green entries...In writing about the band Violent Green, at this time I am not in contact with Jenny O'lay, so I am not directly getting input from her, and, one member is no longer alive. In the case of the former, out of respect to O'lay, I am compelled to keep personal details at a high level, and in terms of Drew Quinlan (RIP, Brother), I am not in touch with any of his family to get approval of what I write about concerning him, as I did with my previously passed bandmate, Pat Schmaljohn (and thus felt better in writing about Pat) but I do not have the same access to family in Drew's case, so for that reason, out of respect for Drew and his family, I will also keep details at a high level. I won't make it cold and unpersonal, don't misunderstand me. Our dynamic as people was a huge part of the band. I guess what I am getting at is there are details that will remain private, to meet with high standards I strive to meet on this blog, even more so in light of this lack of input from the former bandmates of which I write. I hope I have achieved these standards. This also brings up the point I always make, but it is important to reiterate; this is all from my perspective only, and of anyone whom I get input from.
Our odd relationships and their tensions were one with the music, and I think, actually I know, that was a good thing, a necessary ingredient of this band, a band that forever reshaped how I thought about music, both listening to it and making it. I owe that to Drew and Jenny's brilliance and imperfectness, which made me feel okay about my own imperfections, (only to a degree, as my inner, self-critical voice was still in full effect) and it helped me realize that even I held brilliance, in my own way, when I played with them, warts and all. One thing I can confidently say is; we gave a fuck about the music. And that was because this was a highly musical band (most of the people who got what we were doing were musicians themselves) and thus I will focus much of my energy in terms of the VG entries talking about that; the music, it's influences and forms, and how the three of us and what we brought to the band from previous projects and the music we each loved, created, eventually, a rich tapestry. It is worth digging into this world O'lay spun with this bizarre, dark, poppy, goth, folksy punk music from Mars ~ *
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
My other blogs: Short Story Long - (Top of mind, conversational, formal essays, photo essays, etc.) Artwork, Poetry
Bad Dog, No Bagel
I previously mentioned I had started a new job around '93 at a hip bagel cafe that was beginning to expand, called 'Spot Bagel.' The 'spot' part of the name came from their mascot, a dalmation, and eventually led to the slogan, 'Bad dog, No Bagel,' as a play on 'Bad Cop, No Donut,' and which became a T-shirt and effectively the uniform. In the beginning of Spot Bagel's history, a uniform would be anathema.
It was a pretty low key business, the vibe of which reminded me of health food stores in the '70s. Spot started with a cafe located in the Wallingford Neighborhood of Seattle, right in the heart of it, across the street from the iconic Food Land store (which eventually became a QFC store, who replaced the 'Foodland' sign of the previous tenants with a sign that said 'Wallingford' because the residents of the neighborhood were losing their shit, not because a small business was being crushed - though some were in that camp - but because the sign was so important to them, and marked something for them - to me this scenario represented how Seattlites, most anyway, have their priorities all fucked up - a similar scene played out when Tully's Coffee bought the iconic building that housed Rainier Beer and people were freaking out about the giant red 'R' sign going away - causing Tully's to replace it with a giant green 'T,' which only served to piss people off even more).
I interviewed with a guy I will call Luis outside a new Spot Bagel cafe being opened up, the first of many planned, located in the Newmark Building, one block East of the famous Pike Place Market downtown. The Newmark was a brand new building that had gone up in what seemed like just a couple of months (and how fast it fell apart confirms it couldn't have been more). I hadn't done a high number of official interviews.
At that time in the US, and, for young folks especially, it was a lot who you knew that got you hired at a job, a good word got you in, like how I got the construction job just after moving to Seattle with zero construction experience. I was a little nervous about the interview, but I kinda didn't give a fuck if I got this job or not, had steeled myself for a slog of pavement pounding. In retrospect, I would have easily gotten any number of service jobs, as the city's job economy was strong, most specifically in service jobs (to serve all the self-important new money people flocking there in white flight from Oakland and other urban centers, they clutched their pearls and bought property like mad, driving up the cost of living in a wave that has only increased to the point of no return. Seattle may as well be San Francisco, now).
My indifference came off as confidence, and Luis offered me the job on the spot (no pun intended, but I'll take it) and when I said' "I'll take the job," he seemed stunned. "You will?"
Oh how I wished that I had remembered this little demonstration of what self-assuredness (not a word, but should be - and yet 'self-absurdness' is?) gets you, but really, to be fair to Young Wayne, he had no fucking clue it came off as confidence, just as he didn't understand this fact for most things.
I will come back to Spot Bagel, as it was an important thread to my increasingly busy and complex life. Shit fell apart there in a spectacular way that now at least makes a good story.
I found a photo of the café and I had forgotten how Jetsons and neo-Seattle modern it was! This was where I worked everyday, and while the café area itself looked like a sci-fi film set, the kitchen was pretty standard.
Photo retrieved from:
https://twitter.com/y2k_aesthetic/status/1292940002322599937/photo/1
The rise of Up Records and 'Indie Rock'
In 1993, 1994, the 'indie rock' scene (so dubbed as most bands that fell under the title were on independent, rather than major labels, though that quickly changed somewhat post Nirvana in the aforementioned 'major label feeding frenzy'), Chris Takino's and co-founder Rich Jensen's label (who had been a musician with early releases on Sub Pop and K Records and a productive music enthusiast since 1981) Up Records arose as a much needed alternate to the music then dominating the Seattle scene, where the majority of visible bands were on Sub Pop, most of whom at the time were a derivation of 70s hard rock with a splash of punk. In fact, Chris first approached Sub Pop about putting out a Built to Spill lp and they encouraged him to put it out himself.
The Up roster included bands/artists like Modest Mouse, Edsel, Mike Johnson, Juned, Caustic Resin, (do yourself a favor and clear some time to sit back and listen to the epic 1995 Up Records double LP release by them called Fly Me to the Moon - Well, what are you waiting for? At least look it up on You Tube!) Satisfact, Butterfly Train, Built to Spill, Duster (one of my fav bands at the time, still love their stuff, it stands up), Land of the Loops, acoustic guitarist and songwriter Rick Sabo, and of course, Violent Green, from where the whole thing launched, and on and on, all very different bands (and note the above list is off the top of my head, mostly.)
The bands of the label represented what was still true to the idea of the roster being simply bands Chris Takino loved. Luckily for Seattle, his taste was pretty fucking good. Go through the catalogue and you will see what I am on about. It should be noted with these indie labels, there was no exclusivity in the contracts, or if ever there was, not for long, thank goodness - for instance the Treepeople got our best record Guilt, Regret, Embarrassment back from Toxic Shock Records in 5 years, and now it is re-released on K Records. My point though, is that a number of these bands were also putting out records on other indie labels, for instance, the bands Satisfact and Modest Mouse both had released records on K simultaneously or before/after doing records with Up. One time I asked Calvin Johnson what he thought of Up Records and he smiled a wry little smile and half-jokingly said, "Not bad, but tell Chris to stop stealing my bands!"
The first office for Up Records was a one room office in the Terminal Sales Building, the same building Sub Pop was in (which made sense as Chris worked there still for a time, and of course Sub Pop I assume helped him get the space.) As I remember it, Chris was able to quit his job fairly soon after starting the label, but I could be wrong about that. When Up was in the Terminal building was the period when I stopped by the most often, I think because it was close to where I worked. Chris had assembled a small crew of folks to work for him. I remember every time I visited it was kind of exciting, too, to think that one of our own started a label, that the label started to put out a little record by an obscure band I was in and had begun to get a lot of attention. This makes sense, because Chris was one the most connected people I have ever met in the alternative/indie rock world, and one of the smartest.
It was also during the Terminal Sales Building period of Up that they put out Built to Spill's second lp, the wonderfully charming and introspective 'There's Nothing Wrong With Love.' This record made an instant splash, and put Doug on the map, and on a path to becoming an indie rock icon. That may not have been the goal for him or for Up, but it inevitably happened. Right place, right time.
I don't remember a time when Built to Spill shows in Seattle weren't packed. The guy who just wrote songs, showed up for Treepeople rehearsals and did little else in the band was gone. In his place was an enthusiastic, thoughtful and professional musician/songwriter, and leader of a band. It seemed in retrospect that the transformation was overnight, but I am sure this isn't true. The fact is since we met him, when he was 16, he slowly began to realize the potential of playing music for more than just a hobby [Then Future, now Now Wayne says; 'That's ridiculous, we all knew this pretty quickly, Yours, soon to be Past Wayne']. In one interview not long after this period he talked about how seeing the punk thing and what we, State of Confusion, and others were doing, he realized that you could do it without much money (or even talent, and he had plenty of that, anyway). Drive was the key thing, and he developed a drive over time. It was a drive, not to be 'the next big thing' or a rock star, but to get his music out to as many people as possible, and to play in front of as many people as possible.
The first incarnation of the band was pretty much a project, and he had intended to rotate line-ups on a regular basis. This line-up for There's Nothing Wrong With Love was essentially Farm Days, his first band, with Brett Nelson on bass and Andy 'Capps' on drums (RIP).
I hung out in the studio with them when they recorded the record and made a couple minor contributions, which hilariously led to people thinking that I at some point was in Built to Spill, some people still think that. Pretend that was said by our president, that is, it is not true. I added a silly little guitar lead with my fingers on the song 'Big Dipper' that was played through one of those transistor radio sized practice amps called, adorably, 'Marshas' (a play on the Marshall brand of amps, by far the amp of choice for any rock guitarist - in retrospect, it's a little sexist!) Listen below - my little silly part comes in at the 2:36 mark.
I also did the voice after the joke ending songs, which are great, Doug wrote little diddies in different styles of music and packaged them as a sort of label promo sampler of different bands, there is a punk song ("...Kick you in the head/Gonna kick you in the head!...) and a country song ("...A man needs a woman/And a woman needs a man to love/Gonna hold on to you/My Midnight Star..."), etc. At the end of all this there is a weird voice I did that says "Look for the record with me on the cover!" When I was recording it, I had a mental block and kept adding 'Just' at the beginning. Doug kept correcting me through the talkback mic (the mic producers and engineers use to talk to artists between takes) and we were all cracking up. For inspiration for the voice, Doug told me to imagine what the voice of one of the artist Mike Scheer's little surreal creatures in his drawings might sound like. It was a hell of a lot of fun. But I was never in Built to Spill! They also used my bass rig on the album Perfect From Now On and Doug borrowed my Fender Jazz Noel Redding edition bass for Keep it Like a Secret as well. I guess I went from contributor to equipment supplier! I was happy to do it, of course.
It can't be overstated how much releasing 'There's Nothing Wrong With Love' put Up on the map, as much as it did for Doug. It was universally well-received and praised by all, and rightly so, I feel. There is nothing else quite like it in all of the BTS catalogue (or frankly anywhere else). It retained the innocence of Farm Days while bringing in stories from childhood that set the stage for the more epic, somewhat more grim lp Perfect From Now On. Listen to Twin Falls, Idaho and then listen to the opening track from PFNO, Randy Described Eternity to see what I am on about.
[And I am gravely remiss here, but I neglected to mention that this LP was produced by the very talented producer, young and up-and-coming Phil Ek, who would go on to produce many fine records, I missed this out of sloppiness? Laziness? Distractedness? Fuck, who knows - Absolutely no offense meant, Brother Phil - more pn Mr. Ek later, I assure you]
Captiol Hill's Pine Street Scene
Eventually Up Records moved to Capitol Hill on Pine, right on the other side of the block from the apartment I used to live in on Summit. This strip of Pine (from about Boren to Broadway) was quickly becoming the center of a scene as there were hip businesses opening there. There was Linda's Tavern, a cool, dark bar with pool tables and booths, I think it is still there? Also, Bimbo's Bitchin' Burrito Kitchen became a center for many in the music scene, cheap eats, open late, and they had booze (and eventually opened a bar next door). A few of my friends, all musicians, worked at Bimbos. A record store would pop up here, a coffee house there. Bauhaus Coffee, one of my favorite haunts a few years after this time period of which I write, was toward the bottom of the hill of Pine, just before you head downtown.
Meanwhile, back in the world of Violent Green, we went to Reciprocal Studios toward the end of 1994, soon to be bought by Avast! studio owner Stuart Hallerman and producer John Goodmanson, and thus was renamed John & Stu's. Goodmanson would also engineer this very album, that is the album I keep hinting at, the album Eros. I promise I will actually write about it next time. I don't want it to be the old theater writing technique Orson Welles once described, where all the characters mention "Mr. Wu," in reverent tones throughout the play, but the audience never sees him, so that by the time he walks on stage, he has been so built up that his entrance causes 'Ooohs' and 'Ahhhs.' Or hell, maybe I do want that.
It is important to keep in mind when I zero in like this, to one label and one band and a handful of label-mates, whilst all this was going on, that the punk scenes I wrote of in previous entries (see entries #s 28-30) had grown and morphed as well, and, most importantly, were still going strong. Members of the aforementioned bands of our friends, like Whipped, began to play in bands like Decrepit (Guitarist/singer/songwriter Doug Pack of Whipped singing) and Shug (Paula Sen, bass player/singer/songwriter of Whipped playing guitar, songwriting and singing) and most of the bands mentioned in said Seattle punk entries were still at it in '94, bands that had started before Treepeople were still blazing trails, like Olympia's Fitz of Depression (formed 1987).
The Olympia ('Oly') scene was thriving, and it wasn't just K Records bands, there were bands on friendly rival label Kill Rock Stars as well, like one of my favorite bands ever, Unwound, who was relentlessly touring at this time with their new album, also my favorite, 'New Plastic Ideas.' Also on Kill Rock Stars, newly formed in 1994, was Sleater Kinney, who would also capture the attention of the world soon. There was new stuff bubbling, feminist rock movements out of Olympia like riot grrrl were in full bloom, and the whole Pacific Northwest was rising too, like the Portland, Oregon scene, which had bands like Quasi, Pond, Hazel, Crakerbash, Heatmiser (whose member Elliott Smith was quietly crafting brilliant, sad songs of his own that would soon go out into the world) Pink Martini, and so many others, Seattle had fun punk bands like Gas Huffer featuring legend Tom Price on guitar, who were bouncing around, playing clubs. And dozens and dozens of bands were popping up, sometimes homegrown but mostly reloctaed out-of-towners. Nirvana was still on top (but sharing the limelight with Pearl Jam and Soundgarden and Alice in Chains, the first to break), as you can see, things were exploding in indie rock in the NW, but the reluctant pied piper of the movement, Kurt Cobain...he wasn't doing so well mentally and managing his addictions at the beginning of 1994.
I remember working at Spot Bagel later when I heard on the radio that Kurt Cobain had almost Od'ed and gone into a coma in Italy in March (incidentally, the day after my 28th birthday). And I remember thinking, "Uh oh," and sort of bookmarking it. And then the woman asked me to spread the butter on the toasted bagel I was preparing for her more lightly, to scrape some off. "I don't even want to know it's there," she said matter-of-factly.
Next time: A final Treepeople album fueled by Scott Schmaljohn without Doug (a portent of things to come for Scott), Wayne starts playing drums in a cool band called Faintly Macabre, is also recruited into The Halo Benders, our brother Kurt decides it's no longer worth it anymore, rattling the scene, and opening the doors for Ol Death to steal even more people away~~~~
IIIIII