Music History Part 47: A suddenly busy music career, starting a business and a new chapter in life

Memory is a funny thing, and an elusive one. Meaning; I might have some of this wrong, as 1. My memory is not always accurate, like anyone and 2. It is from my perspective only. Any friends  who were there, feel free to correct me or add things I have missed. It helps! Also, no gossip on anyone here, it ain't about that. Personal details are on a surface level, and friends, girlfriends and others are re-named to respect their privacy. People in bands generally put their names out there on albums and in interviews anyway, and are not in the habit of staying anonymous, and therefore are named here. That said, anyone who is in the blog that wishes me not to use their name has only to ask.

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. Onward>>>

The romantic relationship ends...

I had recently had a conversation with my partner, an argument that ended up as a conversation, more truthfully, in which she casually commented, not even in any meaningful way, more like how when someone says, "Well, maybe all humanity is doomed!!" or, "Maybe no one is honest," but what she happened to say, inspired by our circular conversation about how we may not actually be suited to each other, was, "Well, maybe people weren't meant to be monogamous."

At this point in my life, as I previously covered, I was a bit overwhelmed with anxiety. To make matters worse, I was managing the café at this point (so I am going a bit back in time here) and at work any given day I would drink coffee in the morning, Coca-Cola through the day and black tea at home at night, all of which, along with other toxins ingested, ramped up my anxiety as bad as if I were doing speed, and distorted all of the other things going through my head about issues at work, issues with bands and the pressures of performing and recording and touring while being alternately exhausted and amped. I was a jangle of nerves and I rarely thought clearly or coherently, but I presented very differently most of the time.

So when I heard my partner say that maybe people weren't meant to be monogamous, my fucked up brain translated it as, "Oh, she is saying it is ok for me to sleep with other people." Oh, Wayne, you self-deceiving fool. This was of course not what she was saying, but, I ended up having a short affair while she was working hard on a degree and living an hour and a half away. This was after she had been there for me through all the long rehearsal hours, touring, recording and playing shows. Then I ended the affair and told my partner about it, wracked with guilt. I had never done this, it had always been done to me and she would never have done it to me. In retrospect, as I covered last entry, I wanted out of the relationship but didn't have the guts to just end it. As an older (hopefully wiser) person, I see the obvious; this was a terrible, cowardly way out.

We tried to mend it, couples therapy, you name it, but it was not to be. While we did become friends and hang out some more after we broke up (and it was actually nice as there were no stakes hanging over things, no strings and all that jazz) we drifted apart and didn't remain friends. This was one of the biggest fuck ups in my life and I would never do it again, but I will regret forever that it was at her expense which I learned this lesson. After we broke up I moved into a tiny, charming apartment in the Wallingford neighborhood and started a new chapter in my life.

Life gets even busier, and, working for the CIA

Within a matter of a couple years, my life as a musician got very busy. I was suddenly (or it felt like it was suddenly) playing in 3 bands: Violent Green, Faintly Macabre, and the Halo Benders. The latter didn't take up as much time as the other two bands, as we all lived in different places, so we got together whenever all of our schedules allowed, which was once or twice a year, but when we did get together, it was a flurry of activity, and my rehearsal and performance schedules became challenging to manage. But I was loving it, despite some added stress.

To pay the bills I was working at the caterer, as mentioned, and around 1996 I got a job working for Seven Gables Theaters (and Holden Payne was my boss at one of them) a chain of cool art-house theaters. I worked concessions at various locations, and eventually cleaned some of the theaters late at night.

After working at the caterer for a while, I got an idea to ask them if they would pay me to clean their office and kitchen weekly, starting it as a side gig to make extra money. This would lead to a cleaning business which I named Clean It All office cleaning (I didn't plan it but the abbreviation was 'CIA', thus the section title above...got your attention, didn't it?) that I would eventually make a living on. I acquired more and more accounts, starting with an office furniture sales company next door to the caterer, and for a short time I cleaned an architect's office in the same building.

Then I got the idea to pitch to cleaning recording studios I had recorded at, since I knew the people who owned them, and I knew what not to touch in a studio. I added Avast! Recording and Jon and Stu's (formerly Reciprocal) and eventually post production studios (that record commercial advertisements) as cleaning accounts. I specifically cleaned offices & studios only, I avoided cleaning houses because I didn't like the idea of going into people's personal space and lives. By the end of my time having this cleaning business in the late '90s, I had 9 accounts total, all of which I cleaned myself (with help from my partner sometimes - a different partner, of course, who will enter in the tale soon, but not in detail as she is very private - and a very brief stint with a few employees).

I was/am very proud of this business, and of the fact that I quickly expanded it enough to be able to live on it and be my own boss. I am grateful to the caterer I worked for and the surrounding businesses adjacent to them for helping me get my start, and to the studios who helped me as well. It was a huge shift in perspective in my life, to one in which I realized that I wasn't totally dependent on some restaurant or company for my livelihood, and that if I put my head into it, I could be my own boss. 

Of course, in this particular line of work, my body didn't always agree that it was a good way to make a living, and ultimately this aspect of it was also the death of it, but I am getting a bit ahead of myself (as I do). It would take a couple years yet to develop this business and gain more accounts. At this point in life, my only cleaning accounts were the caterer I worked for and the office furniture business next door. Doing deliveries for the caterer was still my main source of income for a time (and I should add that doing deliveries in the Seattle/Puget Sound area using only a printed Thomas Guide, as even MapQuest didn't exist then, and certainly not smart phones, in a city that had tons of lakes and nonsensical street layouts and was in a huge spurt of growth and change in the mid '90s...was stressful) but by the time I was working for the theater, I stopped working at the caterer doing deliveries; they became my cleaning client only. Music was still costing more than it took in, at least in terms of sheer monetary measure. But in terms of a life goal fulfilled, I was thriving.

Drew the Producer and Sample Master

Another development at this time was that Drew Quinlan, the drummer in Violent Green, had expanded his interest in creating beats on samplers to also include being involved in the Seattle hip hop community. There was a great hip hop group called Born 2 Create (AKA B2C - a name I have always been fond of, as it also described me) with whom he began to work. Drew would hold court in his small room, often when I came by he would be in session with 3 or 4 young Black hip hop artists, laying a bed of beats for them to rap over. I still have tapes of B2C and it all still sounds pretty cool, though a little crude production-wise, as Drew was just starting out as an amateur producer. Were he still among the living, he would laugh at me calling him that; "Producer?" he would say, "I'm just laying beats, dude," and then laugh that stoner laugh and flash that handsome, easy-going smile (god I miss that guy).

Drew also worked on his own stuff (often under the name Stereo Taxi) a lot of which was really cool, and on which I would occasionally collaborate with him, adding odd poetry or improvisational spoken word or bass or guitar. Ajax (of Last Gasp, LISAP Opera, Crisis Rebirth and other bands) or any musician or non-musician who happened to be hanging out would also join in and add some insane stuff over the beats. It was always an open, inviting artistic lab, and everyone who knew Drew loved him and was happy to contribute to whatever he had going on. These sessions are among my fondest musical memories.

Sometimes he would add instrumentation, and as raw or out of tune as it could be at times, it still sounded unique, and very him. He spent countless hours working on all kinds of stuff, and over time he became a master of sampling things and building beats, taking a huge tip from the warbly, uneven sounds of the Wu Tang Clan (who had by this time established a non-traditional, original method of sampling beats and music) and of course from the sampling art created by our musical mentor and producer, Steve Fisk, who became an important 'partner in crime' on the later, more sample based  approach, which quickly became a key part of Violent Green's songwriting as Jenny was also experimenting with sampling, often of her own voice or guitar parts from various recordings; unused studio cut ups, four track recordings and home recordings (Drew crafted some of his beats from similar cloth), which became a staple of the process in the studio and made what we did with beats and samples quite unique.

The work continues...

         First Faintly Macabre' demo tape (note there was no song called 'The Drawing', this was a typo; the song is called The Drowning                         

Faintly Macabre' was still plugging away during this time. The pace of this band suited all of the members, as we were all busy with other projects, Kellie Payne, the singer songwriter, played drums in a band called Wedgewood Bombers (Wedgewood was a neighborhood in Seattle where she lived in a house with various other musicians) a band she did with her husband, the aforementioned artist Holden Payne, with whom I would also form a short-lived project that never made it to tape or the stage called Wayne Payne, which consisted of me on drums and him on vocals, but this was a little later than the period of which I am writing here.

Kellie had also played guitar and sang in the NW band of note Bell Jar, a member of which, Paulie Johnson, would later join another Seattle band of note, 764 Hero, fronted by John Atkins (who also formed Hush Harbor), and other bands.

                                                                              Bell Jar 7 inch record

The truth is, as I have mentioned, Kellie was/is one of those musicians who can deftly play any instrument well, and she ended up being, over time, before she moved to Austin, Texas in 1999 for a short period, in 18 different bands, often 3 at a time. Adam Grendon, bass player for Faintly Macabre' also as mentioned, played in the awesome Seattle band The Kent 3, which was very active at this time. So Faintly Macabre' played when we could, which was surprisingly often, mostly small bar shows, and we managed to record a demo tape and a 7 inch record (with Holden Payne's art adorning the cover) at Electric Eel, the studio that the bass player of the great band The Purdins ran.

Also, The Halo Benders began work on our second record, Don't Tell Me Now at Calvin Johnson's house, more on that later. The amazing thing was that all of the music projects I was involved in remained compartmentalized, each with its own influences, members and associated scenes, with some overlap of course, as was the case with all 'alternative' scenes in Seattle and the greater Northwest at the time. I was able to live comfortably in all of these musical worlds, and traverse easily between them.

The Seattle music scene grows some peach fuzz...

While all this was going on, the Seattle music scene was entering a sort of adolescent phase of development. Nirvana had for sure put the town on the map for music in the early '90s, but they had benefited from everything before them that I have written of in the Seattle portion of this blog; the mid '70s punk scene (and some of the '60s rock bands before that, like The Sonics) that predated the Sex Pistols debut, the Punk, art rock and hardcore scenes that grew out of that, and the pre-Grunge (for lack of a better term) bands like Green River, Mother Love Bone, Alice in Chains, U-Men, our old friend Tad Doyle of Tad & H-Hour, and we of course can't forget the mighty Melvins. Kurt Cobain did give kudos to all of the above. But what came after he left the stage of life was the scene I found myself in, one influenced by all of these bands and scenes as well, but also by new kinds of indie rock that were emerging which mixed genres in more sophisticated ways than their predecessors (for instance, I was in Violent Green, a band that mixed Punk, folk, jazz, goth, rock, and trip hop). 

Despite all that, record labels were still hungry for 'the next Nirvana.' So there were lots of label reps still lurking (an MCA Records rep even sniffed at Violent Green for a minute, but then they were fired and that was the end of that) and lots of small indie labels were starting up. Sub Pop remained the game in town to shoot for in terms of the height of Seattle success, but the potential for bands getting on bigger labels was also very real then. 

It was in this environment in 1994 that Chris Takino would help guide Doug Martsch in getting Built to Spill signed with Warner Brothers. Sub Pop began to branch out in terms of the styles of bands they signed. Chris Takino's Up Records was a big reason for the branching out, I feel. He had shown Sub Pop by example that they were overlooking some great bands that were right under their noses (let's face it, two of those bands were Treepeople and Built to Spill! however they also graciously distributed Treepeople records - credit where it's due, and, many years later, Built to Spill is now on Sub Pop!). Of course, Sub Pop (along with his previous employer, SST Records) had provided a template for Chris to start a label with, and, Sub Pop had also helped Takino get the label up and running (for a short period in the beginning, Up Records even had offices in the same building as Sub Pop, the Terminal Sales Building) and in their own way they supported this filling of the void that Takino and Up provided.  

Up Records gave a home to bands and artists that didn't fit the 'Grunge' label, like Modest Mouse, Combustible Edison, Hush Harbor, 764 Hero, Satisfact, Mike Johnson, Rick Sabo, our crazy little brother band Caustic Resin, the wonderful band Juned, and so many more, including of course the very first Up band, our weird trio Violent Green, which couldn't seem to attract the attention of anyone except other musicians, who loved us. Everyone else was scratching their heads. We never would have gotten a record deal with any other label, of this I am certain. Thank you forever, Chris (wherever in the cosmos you may be).

Professional, semi-professional, or just having fun; Choose your adventure!

My attitude toward playing music at this point, or at least my expectation of what I wanted to get out of it, was shaped by my previous experience with Treepeople; I just wanted to play music I loved, and if I could make even part of my living at it, I was happy. 

                                 Violent Green and Up Record's first 7 inch release

Violent Green would never provide even that (tough Halo Benders would soon) but I was fine with it. And I believe, in retrospect, that Jenny and Drew felt differently. I feel like they wanted some of that pie offered by the sniffing labels. And truthfully, they should have gotten it, but I just don't think they recognized their own naiveté about the music business, despite their immense talent. This is no dis to them; it's more of a dis to the music biz. And the truth is, most of the Seattle scene was filled with bands who fit that bill. We were all young and just wanted to be heard. We weren't business savvy folks, and most musicians aren't.

Every artist wants a piece of, if not fame, then at least making a living for all the hard work, time, sacrifice and money they give to the muse. But the people with the money, especially at that time, want a sure thing, and if you ain't that, then all the money they front you (including in the form of your own records) has to be paid back, and suddenly you are just indentured servants (the fate of so many signed bands I knew then). They seek talent by basing what they desire on recent successes and miss what is right in front of them (as I have more than once mentioned, some truths bear repeating) because their motivation is not about serving art; It is all about serving Capitalist Gods.  

I was just having breakfast with an old friend and his family recently in Portland, one of the guitarists from the amazing Seattle band Imij (a band who will be entering my tale soon) Cris Omowale, and he mentioned how in the old days, we were broke but creating all the time; art, music - we gave everything to it, and despite our self-imposed poverty, we were mostly happy. Happy because we were focusing all of our energy on our creative impulses, and to doing it our way, even if it wasn't serving up food for the Capitalist Gods (this was very much Imij's story). And who wants to be eaten and shit out, anyway?

Wayne Ray "Rhino" Flower II, 7/2/23

Ticket link for Seattle Treepeople show in August at the Crocodile

Hello all,

I promise, I am working on a draft of the next chronological entry, and I know this has become more of a bulletin board of late, but my job is nuts and between the SOC reunion and the Treepeople stuff, life has been a little nutty as well!

Here is the ticket link for the Seattle show at the Crocodile

August 2023 Treepeople Reunion Shows

Hello Treepeople people!

At long last I have confirmed dates, venues and bands, but the only venue that is now selling tickets is The Alladdin in Portland, OR. I am posting now anyway as I know people want to plan travel, and also you can check the venue ticket sites to see when they post, I will also post them when I see them. ~ WF

8/9 in Boise, ID, with Prism Bitch and State Of Confusion ~ @ Realms

8/10 in Boise, ID, with Prism Bitch and Dirt Fishermen ~ @ Realms

8/11 in Portland, OR, with Prism Bitch and Patrons of Husbandry (featuring Rusty Willoughby from Pure Joy and Flop) ~ @ The Aladdin - Tickets here

8/12 in Seattle, WA, with Prism Bitch and The Purdins ~ @ The Crocodile

8/13 (previously incorrectly listed as 8/14) in Bellingham, WA, with Prism Bitch and Itchy Kitty ~ @ Wild Buffalo

A Music History Part 42: Scott Schmaljohn finds his own groove, Wayne's 'dance card' as musician fills up, and Kurt says 'Fuck it.'

Disclaimer: Memory is a funny thing, and an elusive one. Meaning; I might have some of this wrong, as 1. My memory is not always accurate, like anyone and 2. It is from my perspective only. Any friends  who were there, feel free to correct me or add things I have missed. It helps! Also, no gossip on anyone here, it ain't about that. Personal details are on a surface level, and friends, girlfriends and others are re-named to respect their privacy. People in bands generally put their names out there on albums and in interviews anyway, and are not in the habit of staying anonymous, and therefore are named here. That said, anyone who is in the blog that wishes me not to use their name has only to ask. 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 ~ * 

I have realized that this period of my life was so busy and so many things weave together with each other, I need to do longer entries.

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My other blogs: Short Story Long - (Top of mind, conversational, formal essays, photo essays, etc.) Artwork, Poetry
 
 
"I hear Trees falling"...and see new shoots of life

The last time I saw Treepeople was in '93 or so (early '93, as Pat and Doug were still in the band, late '92?), Steve Fisk and I went to see them at the OK Hotel in Seattle. It was the first time I felt comfortable doing so. They were great, and at this point they had stage hands doing guitar switches on stage, and had somehow gotten a sponsorship from Gibson guitars (their SG model was and still is Scott's favorite axe). I was pretty amazed by all this.

Scott Schmaljohn finally called it quits with carrying on the Treepeople name in 1994, after many lineup changes (in which the person who replaced me on drums, Tony Dallas Reed, played drums, guitar and bass over time in different lineups). Also playing in the later lineups was bass player Eric Carnell, a Seattle musician and friend of Treepeople. The final line up was Carnell on bass, Eric Akre on drums, John Polle on guitar and some songwriting, and of course Scott Schmaljohn as main songwriter and guitarist.

Artwork by Mike Scheer, photograph by Jhoanna Calma

Treepoeple's final LP was Actual Re-enactment, which received mixed reviews, in part because of things I have discussed in previous entries about how Scott continuing Treepeople without Doug Martsch didn't sit well with some fans, but I have also seen some glowing reviews of it. By this point, I wasn't tracking Treepeople as closely as right after I quit. I heard some tracks here and there and liked many of them a lot, but I felt they were no longer Treepeople songs as I knew Treepeople. That is of course my personal bias. There are many fans who were introduced to Treepeople with this record and love it, as did many long term fans. And there are songs like Low and Will We Ever that are really good, but they felt like Scott Schmaljohn songs to me. Weird to say because he was half the songwriting in Treepeople, I struggle to make it understood that these songs are different! Kind of like how Doug's Built to Spill tunes were different than his Treepeople tunes (though in Scott's case less so, thus the 'Kind of like...'). Dig?

John Polle has always been a favorite musician/songwriter of mine (and a great guy!) and I like everything he has been part of, and I do feel he was a good fit for Treepeople, especially in his honoring of the traditional TP guitar play. But I feel his songwriting wasn't always a fit with Treepeople, despite the songs being of high quality. He would shine in the next band to form out of the breakup of Treepeople, Stuntman, whom I discuss below.
 
For me, as I have mentioned, Actual Re-enactment highlights Scott's songwriting evolution and strengths, and hinted at what was to come once he was liberated from the daunting Treepeople name, which by 1994 had a solid reputation attached to it. The songs are well-crafted, the playing very tight (especially Akre's drumming), the production excellent. I wasn't the best judge, then or now, not just because I was an ex member of the band, but because I hadn't listened to it much. To be honest I feel a bit embarrassed by that fact, but by this point, as you can tell if you have been following these recent entries, I was a little busy!

It was definitely time for Scott to move on, and I feel now and felt then, as I have mentioned, that his own voice as a songwriter deserved to be heard, deserved to be free. Scott will tell you, and has told me in an interview, that his songwriting is what it is no matter what band he is in. This is of course spot on (Scott on? ; ) generally, but I think that since Treepeople started as a two songwriter band, there were certain constrictions as a result, as, possibly, in his mind, even subconsciously, he may have been in part shaping songs to be songs for that name. Obviously, this is my opinion.




Photo of Stuntman's debut LP from Gravy Lane Records bandcamp page for a recent vinyl re-release: https://stuntman1.bandcamp.com/album/stuntman

Stuntman

"...John Polle one time asked the bartender at a show in Eugene if he could have a pint glass of scotch. The bartender laughed and said "Um, I don't think so." I think you get the picture…” ~ Scott Schmaljohn  

I wrote a bio for the re-release of Stuntman's excellent self-titled, debut lp recently (https://stuntman1.bandcamp.com/album/stuntman), re-released by Gravy Lane records on vinyl. I will quote from it here and there, and I have included it in its entirety at the end of this entry. Regarding the name choice for the band, Scott described it this way in my interview with him for the bio:

“...We struggled with a name and our first working title was "Dry Socket". I had gotten wisdom teeth pulled and I thought it was kinda cool. Glad we changed it [the band played a few shows under this name, as well as the name ‘Blanket Party’]. I always liked the name Stuntman because of the ‘70s reference (I always wanted to be a stuntman growing up). I also thought the Stuntman title was appropriate since you have to get up on stage and throw yourself into the music. You beat yourself up on tour and keep going every night…” 

The members of Stuntman were: co-guitarist/songwriter John Polle (who was also in the last lineup of Treepeople on guitar and songwriting, of course), drummer Mike Rundle, an active musician from the Boise music scene and Sean Lennon (no, not that Sean Lennon!) on bass, from Pullman, Washington, as was Polle, and both were longtime friends/fans of Treepeople.

Lennon and Polle were in a couple bands in their Pullman days, one of which was a cool band called Thin Section. In an email exchange where I reached out to Sean Lennon to help me with corrections in the bio (thank you for the many corrections, Lennie!), he talks of the genesis of Stuntman, "...Our earliest set list was comprised of Treepeople songs left over from the last album Actual Reenactment that JP played on.  Those songs were Heinz Von Forrester, Bag Of Wood, and Bootstraps.  The other half was comprised of re-worked Thin Section songs; The Right Channel, Car Crash, and the The Devil. There were a couple new tunes as well; Chickens Don't Have Fingers which Scott & I wrote together, and Watch which was a Scott tune. The Right Channel ended up coming out on our first 7" along with Watch. This single was put out by Twitcher Records out of NYC. Car Crash came out on our second 7" along with a JP written tune called Robert Marshall Long on Sonic Bubblegum out of Boston. The Devil is the only Thin Section song that came out on the first album and coincidentally is the first song JP and I ever wrote together..."

What can I say about Stuntman? Oh, I know...KILLER band. Of course I am biased as fuck. But they really did rip shit up. Their debut LP simply shreds. (See link to Bandcamp page above). Scott's songwriting freed from the trees...(sorry, couldn't resist). Obviously he and Polle were already locked from playing together in Treepeople, and speaking of Polle, as I teased earlier, Stuntman also freed him from the Treepeople 'brand', if you will, and his songwriting is at home with the liberated songwriting of Scott's, though as mentioned by Lennie, many of the tunes were Thin Section songs, written prior to the formation of Stuntman. It was a great marriage. And to hold it down, Mike Rundle and Sean Lennon were perfect, and had a natural groove to both songwriters' styles (Lennie is a beast on bass and Rundle a natural drummer). It rocks, and is also meticulously crafted, intricate, and the guitar work is stellar. A shout out for the production as well. Listen for yourself. 

I was excited for Scott, I remember. Shit came together and it worked. Except, per Scott, they were kind of fuckups, too. They slept in and missed a crucial meeting with Mercury Records that their manager had set up. They fucked up enough to have said manager quit. But Scott also became a husband and father at this time, and decided to hang up music and focus on that new life;
"...We did some tours, but I was so burnt out and had my first child Alex. Touring so hard with Treepeople made me burnt on the whole music thing. I wanted to be with Alex and settle down, focus on my career, and be more domestic ...I kinda let the guys down, but I needed a break. I think we did some great music, and I loved playing with all of those guys….Stuntman was a great band with great musicians..." ~ Scott Schmaljohn

Thus, the band was short-lived, 3 years. Every time I listen to the recordings, I think, man, this shit should have lit!

 Photograph by Wayne R. Flower (shitty scan of photo also by Wayne R. Flower)

House of Wong and Faintly Macabre 

There was a house in the Wallingford Neighborhood in Seattle that had been home to many in the music scene, this house was known as the House of Wong, for the spray-painted stencil of that very title on one of the faces of the cement steps up to the front porch and front door. Most likely the stencil was put there by early musician tenants, a group that became an original and heavy voice in the scene, the big and brooding Earth, considered one of the main pioneers of 'drone metal.' Look 'em up! Get on it. I ain't doin' all yer leg work, get goin'! One time an ex of mine and I randomly ate dinner with Dylan from Earth and another gentleman whose name I can't remember at House of Wong, the first time I had been in the house. It was a really mellow, nice evening, I must say.

Ahem. Where were we? Ah, so anyhoo, House of Wong was home and host to many a band, occasionally there were shows in the basement, where the bands rehearsed. It was a grand, big old house, up on a man made hill (most houses of a certain era were raised up in this way in the Wallingford neighborhood), two stories, 4 bedrooms, big basement, a driveway up to the door of the basement, perfect for loading equipment in and out. There were many awesome and wild parties there in the early to mid '90s. 

I knew a few friends who, at different times each lived in the room upstairs in the front of the house where someone had tried to shoot themselves, and there was still a shotgun hole in the ceiling [Per Adam, bass player in FM and House of Wong resident, it was a 9mm pistol that made the hole, put there by an ex of his - Adam also told me of other bands that rehearsed at the house over time: Steel Wool, Dobermans, Night Kings, Zip Gun, Unsane - and he also told me that Courtney Love auditioned Patty Schemel the drummer for Hole, in the rehearsal room]. A house with stories, to be sure, some of them mine. Some fantastic times were had in that old house, and some phenomenal rehearsals. 

I knew the songwriter of Faintly Macabre, Kellie Payne, from a cool band she had been in called Bell Jar, and she was good friends with many of my good friends in the punk scene like Paula Sen and Doug Pack and Drew from Violent Green (and from Whipped with the aforementioned Paula and Doug) and those whole crusty punk and nerd punk crews. Kellie was/is small, blonde, no bullshit with a razor sharp wit, beautiful and smart as hell, and one of those musicians who can play any instrument she lays her hands on deftly. A natural musician. At the time I met her, she was primarily playing guitar, songwriting and singing her songs in the bands she was in. Her boyfriend was a guy named Holden who did insane black and white (later color) drawings (which would be in many gig posters and record covers from this whole odd, cool scene), a person whose orbit I would be in later, and who would be my boss too for a time. We also tried to do a band that was just drums and vocals, me on drums, Holden on vocals. I wish I had even a boombox recording of the band, which we called Wayne Payne (Holden's last name was Payne). It never went anywhere but some of it sounded cool. He would form other bands with Kellie later as well. They ended up being married for a number of years. 

I don't recall exactly how the band came to be, I hung out in circles Kellie was in a lot, so it was most likely at a party or something that Kellie asked me if I wanted to play drums. The bass player would be the super talented Adam Grendon, who also played in the wonderful Seattle/Bellingham band The Kent 3 (and was a resident of House of Wong), a band who grew to be important in my life (as did a few Bellingham folks/bands), I even sang my favorite song of theirs onstage with them at a show, fun as hell. Anyhow, he, myself and Kellie as a band sounded and felt right to me. I had always liked Kellie and loved her songwriting or anything she played in (after a time she was always in at least 3 bands, which was coming for me, as well).

Faintly Macabre's music is not easy at all to explain. That's a tall order, I tell ya. It leans New Wave and Goth circa the earliest days of that era, the Manchester stuff. The band title comes from a children's book, a great one, called The Phantom Tollbooth (there was band in the late '80s named after the book that State of Confusion played with once, good band), Faintly Macabre is a 'which', as a play on 'witch' - the whole book has this kind of wordplay in clever set ups within the narrative. Faintly Macabre is in jail, as I remember it.

 

          The 'which' Faintly Macabre', from the book The Phantom Tollbooth. Illustration by Jules Feiffer

Another word that I have seemed to use when describing Faintly Macabre over the years has been 'angular.' There are sharp edges to it, bassy as it is overall. Kellie's guitar playing has that quality of tension and release, coming directly from British New Wave and punk stuff like Gang of Four and Killing Joke, and this was the first thing that bonded us musically, our love, all three band members, of the Manchester '80s stuff. But there was also a dose of Black Sabbath mixed in (especially the last ep we did, House of Wong) which was perfect, as I was listening to a lot of Black Sabbath at this point, that and Slint and Unwound, three bands whose drummer's styles began to show up in my drumming style (of course, the Bill Ward influence was already there in the Treepeople stuff I played on, especially the later stuff like Guilt, Regret, Embarrassment).

I dove into drums again with gusto, and a strong work ethic. I felt the rhythm of Kellie's songwriting, either when swaying or methodically going up or down angular steps until a release of firey, pulsing rock, deserved drumming that represented it well. 

A drummer has the scary power to ruin what a songwriter is doing. It pays to be mindful of this, young drummers. For example, I feel like Jeff Buckley's album Grace illustrates this. Once I heard his earlier solo performance at  Cafe Sine' in NYC, heard those same songs from Grace done solo, and after I read about how the band for the tour (and thus the record prior) was assembled last minute by the label so they could immediately tour, I realized the rhythm section had a sort of rushed machismo that took away from the songwriting, and diminished the androgyny of Jeff's true sound, especially in the drumming. To be fair, I don't blame the bass player or drummer, who are fine musicians in their own right, this was forced due to the situation, and the label's approach, I am sure they all did their best within limited time. I state it here as it is a stark example of how inappropriate drumming for a distinctive songwriting style can crush its voice. I digress with the best! However, there is a through line with me being introduced to the Buckleys through Chris Takino and Jenny O'lay, starting with listening to Jeff's father, the famous folk, jazz, experimental song spinner and son of a long line of Irish troubadours, Tim Buckley. And oddly, Violent Green would be on tour and playing Memphis in 1997, when Jeff Buckley, who had been living and working on a new record there, drowned in the Mississippi River, right before we arrived. I hadn't yet been convinced about him and his music at that point (though I came to be a fan), but I remember when I heard the news, it rattled me a little, and it was such surreal synchronicity, as we drove around, seeing the river...For later in the tale, to be sure. I recommend a decent dual biography of the father and son singer songwriters called Dream Brothers.    

Faintly Macabre clicked, like a finely tuned bicycle. We had instant chemistry, as I remember it. Maybe Kellie and Adam have other takes on it. But we got to work right away and practiced our asses off in that dark House of Wong basement. The band played when we could, Adam was busy a lot with The Kent 3, and I was getting more and more busy with Violent Green, and another band would come into my life in a year, the Halo Benders. 

It wasn't planned, but the timing of this entry which happens to have FM in it is 20 years after we recorded an ep we never mixed due to the band breaking up when Kellie and Holden moved to Austin, Texas. Anyhow, we finally had it mixed by Steve Fisk this year. I aim to get it up on Bandcamp and other places soon. It sounds pretty good, I must say. More on Faintly Macabre to come.

[Currently a thing. Now Wayne: Click here for Faintly Macabré House of Wong EP (help us pay for it too!)

Trouble at home...

My relationship with my girlfriend was not doing well and about to take a major turn, due to my mental state, which was pretty riddled with anxiety and insecurities unresolved, and amplified by massive caffeine use at work and home, little sleep and an increasingly busy band schedule, and the fact that my relationship became a long distance one suddenly, as my girlfriend had decided to go to Western Washington University in Bellingham, Washington, about an hour and a half Northwest of Seattle, near the Canadian border. I had so much going on in Seattle that I couldn't commit to moving, a decision which of course majorly disappointed her, and the relationship was never to be the same again, its days numbered, as I wanted out but was too much of a coward to do it gracefully. Young Wayne. He had some issues. This is true. Oh the scoldings/warnings we would give our younger selves were we to discover time travel.
 
For the first time in a while, I had to get a roommate, my first was an old friend from the Pullman, Washington scene named Dan. He was bussing tables at the main jazz club in Seattle at the time, Jazz Alley. That was short-lived. At one point a mutual friend of mine and my girlfriend's who was another Seattle transplant from Boise lived with me. Then I lived with another Dan who worked at Sub Pop, a friend I met through Treepeople.

Kurt says fuck it

Volumes have been written about Kurt Cobain's death in 1994, from straight news reporting to conspiracy theories, as is always the way with celebrity deaths. I knew some of his close friends and in my opinion no one murdered Kurt. He had classic mental issues that led to depression, and it wasn't the first attempt. People fall so in love with artists that they refuse to accept reality when they die, especially if by their own hand, they know they would never leave them! People are entitled to their own fantasy versions of what happened to Mr. Cobain. As a result of so much being written of it, I won't take up too much space on it, but I will give my take on it, from where I was at the time in my life. I don't remember where I was when I heard, most likely at work, I am sure I heard it on the radio (remember young ones, no smartphones, and no internet then). He shot himself with a shotgun in his home. In a weird twist of 2 degrees of separation, the shotgun he used he got from Dylan of Earth, whom I had had that dinner with in the House of Wong, 2 years or so prior.
 
As mentioned above, my recent roommate Dan worked at Sub Pop. The day after Kurt died, he came home from work looking like a shell shocked victim of war. "The phone rang all day, and it was all these...vultures wanting to 'buy every Nirvana record we had.' It was awful." (paraphrasing here). I was not surprised to hear this, but also appalled at people. I had a vision of vultures picking Kurt's bones, shook it out of my head. 

Photo retrieved from the Vulture Conservation Foundation website (note it is acknowledged here to an animal that is a vital, misunderstood and unsung part of our ecosystem that recycles dead things that would otherwise spread disease, it is an insult to compare them to record collectors and distributors of low moral standing, who are far below them in terms of likeability)

Of course, as you can imagine, most everyone in the music scene was stunned, in shock. I have mentioned it before, but pretty much in every different type of music scene, whether people actually liked Kurt's music or not, the vast majority of people felt like Kurt was our 'favorite son' from the city, to use old school parlance, or like our brother (which is more how I saw him, a little brother, probably came from being friends with Tad, who was first to take Kurt under his wing and take Nirvana on their first European tour) the one who by example got people all over the planet to come over to his way of seeing music, and art and sexuality and you name it. He never set out to be some cultural icon but it inevitably happened, much to his chagrin. Fame never sat well with him.

He felt that the wrong kinds of people were really into his music while missing his heartfelt message, like the evil frat boys who would have beat him up in high school gang raping a woman while singing his song 'Polly.' I know from friends of his that these things crushed his soul, bit by bit.     

Smells Like Teen Spirit, a song that started out as a sort of joke and a nod to The Pixies, became the bane of Kurt's musical existence and destiny. And he saw people hunger for this one thing that became popular overnight, and it thrust him into the world of pop culture, and into a position that allowed him to see what he had previously seen and reacted against as an outsider; the addiction people have to what everyone else loves. It becomes a collective longing to belong.

In my opinion, Kurt's approach came originally from a genuine punk attitude, and of course he felt guilt about becoming part of the machine punk railed against, his rebel yell became commoditization, but part of that punk ethos said, 'all are welcome,' as long as you are cool. But at that level of fame, you no longer have control over who loves you, you are no longer artistic gatekeeper. And you start wishing you could not have many of the fans you end up with. The more people there are, the more chances of assholes, of awful people, loving it (and frankly, on a much smaller scale, a similar thing happens in punk scenes).

That all said, I am in no way glossing over his other issues that contributed to his death: mental illness, drug addiction, and proximity to a toxic mate. I say this, again, from a perspective of people who knew him, (I never knew Courtney and had only met Kurt at a show I played with Nirvana when I was in Treepeople, see part 34) they are stories from their perspectives, stories of how she manipulated him and used him and isolated him from all his close friends, who resented her for it. I am not in the camp who say she only became known for her music because of her relationship with Kurt. Obviously it didn't hurt, but I feel she has genuine musical talent. 

I just feel she has the same issues listed above, and I have seen this kind of relationship before, it becomes a dumpster fire eventually, because two people with all those heavy issues torch it all, inevitably, whether intentionally or subconsciously, and it is too easy to make her a villain, but she sure as hell didn't better him. They were a perfect hot mess storm, and Kurt was no innocent in all their shenanigans. In fact I don't feel Kurt was as overall innocent as he portrayed himself. Not to say he was some evil, violent or cruel person. But he was smart in a way that allowed him to fuck with people's heads, and his weapon against the ills of fame, I feel, was a sharp wit and and a gift for bullshitting and seeing how far he could go. 

So, going the absolute farthest he could go, Kurt said 'Fuck it,' and left the stage. Leaving all of us in the scene trying to understand it all, what it meant for our lives going forward. The event of his dramatic exit from Earth also caused some of us to worry about others we knew in the music scene whose doorsteps were darkened by the same demons who swarmed around Kurt and Courtney's doorstep. And then there were people who shrugged as they never really had him on their radar.

But many of us, we missed him instantly. We missed his snide rebukes, his refusal to play the game a certain way, his antics with reporters the likes of which hadn't been seen since Lou Reed and Bob Dylan, we missed that voice, so clear, but gravelly, passionate and forceful and vulnerable all at once. Missed how he could make a perfect pop hook sound punk; "...Beat me outta me..." Missed the naked poetry of his lyrics. He was truly something.

(Side note to people who post photos of the crime scene: Yeah, free speech, the photos are public, but fuck you. This is a terrible thing for those who survive his death to be subjected to. Just fuck you, ghouls).





Photo reteived from the Kurt Cobain Wikipedia page

Then came other deaths in the music scene, as I have hinted, and some deaths had happened before this time that I missed covering like that of Stefanie Sargent, guitarist from the phenomenal Seattle band 7 Year Bitch in 1992 (no disrespect in missing it, there is just so much info to remember and add, I inevitably miss so many things, I begin to write of the deaths and triggers uncover others), and she was friends of friends of mine from the crusty punk scene, so I ran into her here and there. My memory of her was that she was a great musician who really put a lot into performing and rocking out and she had the kind of smile that when you saw it, it brightened your mood instantly. 


Photo retrieved from Toopics on Instagram

Lastly: I am officially done trying to do clever lead-ins to next entries at the end of each one. I am rarely right on all of it, as I never have space once I get going. For instance, in the beginning of the section about Kobain's death, I say I won't go too into it, but then I do. I leave those contradictions in by design, as this is how conversation is, yeah? You start here...go there. That said, this entry is currently 3 times the length of the average post, so I tip my hat to you (even though I never wear hats that can be tipped) and thank you for sticking with the journey this far, and for reading this modest blog. I wish you a good rest of the evening and weekend.

Wayne Ray Flower II, 11/23/19


Stuntman Bio

When first I was asked to write a bio of Stuntman, I asked frontman Scott Schmaljohn if he took a different approach to songwriting for Stuntman as opposed to for his previous band, also my previous band, the band he and I, Pat ‘Brown’ Schmaljohn and Doug Martsch co-founded; Treepeople. As is fitting of Scott, he replied (via text) with a succinct, to-the-point reply that made me slap my forehead and say, “Of course,” realizing my foolish assumption; “I have always written songs the same way. There is no difference in the band.” In other words, a Scott Schmaljohn song is a Scott Schmaljohn song. Period.

Scott's songwriting is born from a steady heartbeat, whether it's a slow or more upbeat tune, and is much like his clear way of speaking; you don't have to guess where he is coming from. He is one of the most unique guitarists/songwriters around, and his style embodies the word 'electric’ in ‘electric guitar’; notes bend and stretch like live electric wires, throwing you, because the playing is so non-traditional and original, similar to (though sounding very different from) the way Greg Ginn of Black Flag plays (and since Black Flag were early heroes of ours, it makes sense).

Scott and I met Stuntman co-guitarist/songwriter John Polle when we were still in Treepeople together, in about ‘88, when Polle fronted the excellent Pullman, Washington band, Ignatius. Polle formed a band with Stuntman bassist Sean Lennon after Ignatius broke up called Thin Section and one of the Stuntman songs on this record was carried over (‘The Devil’). Thin Section gigged with Treepeople a lot and that is how Polle really got to know Scott, who eventually asked him to join Treepeople. The first Stuntman set was made up of half Treepeople songs from their final lp, ‘Actual Reenactment’ and half Thin Section songs.

Why ‘Stuntman’? The band name history is interesting. Per Scott, “...We struggled with a name and our first working title was "Dry Socket". I had gotten wisdom teeth pulled and I thought it was kinda cool. Glad we changed it [the band played a few shows under this name, as well as the name ‘Blanket Party’]. I always liked the name Stuntman because of the ‘70s reference (I always wanted to be a stuntman growing up). I also thought the Stuntman title was appropriate since you have to get up on stage and throw yourself into the music. You beat yourself up on tour and keep going every night…”

Polle’s songwriting is more poppy than Scott’s, but also darker in a playful way, like Pixies meets the Seattle band Pure Joy (pioneers of pop punk in Seattle, along with The Purdins). Some of the breakdowns in Scott’s songs come off with a Fugazi flavor and the contrast is great. Polle’s and Scott’s playing were locked from playing together in Treepeople, and thus a bit of that ‘jigsaw guitar puzzle’ approach comes through, though in Stuntman, the guitars are locked in a more  traditional, rock n roll way, and there is more room to experiment, which works well.

The band made a home base in Boise, picked up a solid local drummer there named Mike Rundle from a band called Dirt Boy, gigged there and did some touring. Lennon and Rundle were solid as bedrock in their support of the two songwriters, handling all that Polle and Schmaljohn throw at them deftly.

Scott was entering into new territory in his personal life when Stuntman formed; That of husband and father; “...We did some tours, but I was so burnt out and had my first child Alex. Touring so hard with Treepeople made me burnt on the whole music thing. I wanted to be with Alex and settle down, focus on my career, and be more domestic [while cranking out phenomenal songs like ‘Bleed’!]. I kinda let the guys down, but I needed a break. I think we did some great music, and I loved playing with all of those guys….Stuntman was a great band with great musicians. We were fuck ups and blew a lot of opportunities given to us. We had a morning meeting with Mercury records and we overslept missed the meeting, pissed off [Stuntman’s manager] and ruined a lucrative record contract...Wasn't meant to be I guess. We seemed to do this often, as our manager finally said "you guys are fucks!" and left us. John Polle one time asked the bartender at a show in Eugene if he could have a pint glass of scotch. The bartender laughed and said "Um, I don't think so." I think you get the picture…” A stuntman must be prepared for anything; whether he’s tearing it up on stage or changing diapers, he’s goin’ in.

Stuntman was a band from 1994 until 1997, releasing two full albums, three 7" records, and three split 7" records, as well as appearing on a few comp records.

Wayne R. Flower, 5/26/17

Music History, Part 21: The Early Seattle Years 1989-90

Disclaimer: Memory is a funny thing, and an elusive one. Meaning; I might have some of this wrong, as 1. My memory is not always accurate, like anyone and 2. It is from my perspective only. Any friends  who were there, feel free to correct me or add things I have missed. It helps! Also, no gossip on anyone here, it ain't about that. Personal details are on a surface level, and friends, girlfriends and others are re-named to respect their privacy. People in bands generally put their names out there on albums and in interviews anyway, and are not in the habit of staying anonymous, and therefore are named here. That said, anyone who is in the blog that wishes me not to use their name has only to ask.

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, 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. 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. Onward>>>

The big pond calls...Treepeople uproots and heads west to the city

The Treepeople move ta Seeee-attle! Photo retrieved from:

https://humorinamerica.files.wordpress.com/2012/05/the-hillbillies.png

The way I remember it (which, if you have been following this blog at all, you know may very well be wrong) was that I wanted to move to Seattle. I mean, I know that much is true for sure. My parents were dead, I didn't really know my siblings very well except one, and I had just been through an incredibly ugly break-up with my girlfriend [upon reflection, I have realized this was after the decision to move, as she was to move with me].

Was I willing to move without the band? Yes, I was, though I struggled with that, so I approached the guys about moving to Seattle, as a band. As it turned out (and this is the 'how I remember it' part), the guys were on the same wavelength and had also been thinking about moving to Seattle and discussing it with their respective mates. I am sure that none of this was out of nowhere. Most likely what happened was that we had discussed it here and there over time as at first a remote possibility, one that became more clear as the best next step. Why? We felt that, as musicians, between all the bands we had been in collectively, we had done most everything we could do in Boise. As well, we had excellent connections in Seattle.

As I mentioned in a previous entry, being in Seattle, recording there and getting a feel for the scene, making friends, had given us a new fire, and new goals. We were young, talented and making music people seemed to respond to. We had already sold several of our demos at a local, Seattle punk rock record store called 'Fallout', where an old friend, Paula Sen worked (then known by many as 'Paula Fallout') whom we met when SOC played in Tri-Cities. She worked there with the rock legend Tom Price of U-Men and Gas Huffer. Paula was playing bass in an excellent hardcore band called 'Whipped'. I assume we also started selling our single there prior to moving, but I am not positive. We may not have had them made yet.

I had a 1976, green Volvo 245 wagon like this named 'The Green Turtle' which towed much of our stuff across the desert and mountains when we moved to Seattle (and for years it came through as a camper and was a band vehicle for various bands). Photo retrieved from:

http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4138/4761486802_70c386249b.jpg

Us moving felt right. And to this day, I think it was, for me. I ended up living in Seattle for 14 years, and it was of course a great step for the band, no doubt about it. But the city didn't jibe as well with the others, and eventually, years later, I was the only one left there. Pat moved back briefly after moving back to Boise in the mid '90s. More on that later (I need to start writing down all these 'More on that laters'). All of them ended up seeing the world, and some still do, touring and playing music. So I was there in the wet hills, and they were living the dream, but...I am waaay ahead of myself now...

I said goodbye to my little house on N. 28th street in Boise, Idaho (above is a Google streetview shot of how it looks currently - the garage wasn't there before and the yard was full of fruit trees). I was pretty sure I had a dead room mate when I lived in this house.

I loaded up a U-Haul trailer hooked to my '76 Volvo wagon ('The Green Turtle', tank that it was) and said goodbye to my odd little house, which by then I was certain was haunted (I wrote a novel based on experiences I had while living there, among other things). 

As I packed up I saw my 80 year old neighbor, Chet. He waved me over and we chatted. He proceeded to tell me that a woman, a prostitute, had lived in the house I was moving out of with her son, and had murdered her boyfriend there. Well, that explained a lot. If he had told me when I was moving in, I would chalk everything I experienced in that house up to suggestion, but...that is all for another type of blog, or, you can read my novel, 'Voice of the Bone-fed Moon' if anyone ever publishes it (any takers??). 

Pat and I made a trip up to Seattle to secure an apartment for all of us. And by 'all of us' I mean a total of 9 people; The band plus 3 girlfriends, another friend who latched on to us, and a friend who was going to help us move and then hang out in Seattle for a couple months (this was Brad, who was the former bass player in Dissident Militia - see previous entries for more on this band - and the original singer in SOC).

This trip that Pat and I took was a big step because normally, we bickered a lot, but on this trip we got along very well. We had our goal in front of us. Later on, in the midst of conflict, we would reminisce and refer to this trip as proof that we could actually get along. 

Tad and his girlfriend graciously let us stay at their apartment while we looked at potential places to live. I wasn't keen on moving in with everyone all at once, but we didn't really have a choice. I had a good amount of money in the bank due to the inheritance, but I was very concerned about making it last as long as possible (this became a point of contention with Pat, justifiably, more on that later). 

Saying yes to The Refuzor House

Pat and I were pretty smart guys, but we were products of our environment. We grew up in Boise, and our experience renting apartments was largely based on how it was in Boise. Pat had lived in Santa Barbara as a college student, so he had a little more experience than I at renting away from home. We were naive and possibly in a little bit too much of a rush. It is true we did have a limited amount of time, but in retrospect, we should have cast our net much wider and looked at more places.

We ended up going with the bottom floor of a dumpy house on Capitol Hill behind a QFC store on Broadway (this QFC was just north of where it is now) that a slimy slumlord convinced us to rent. He owned the house next door as well, it was divided into tiny cubicles. Poor immigrants were crammed into them like sardines. Our 'home' was then occupied by the slumlord's nephew, his nephew's wife, their infant, and 2 dogs. They were being kicked into the basement below us so we could have the place! A great way to make friends right off! 

We headed home with the good news.

We, all 9 of us, made the long drive over the desert and mountains and arrived at our new home. There were only two bedrooms. A couple of the girlfriends were very smart, savvy and 'grown ups', and thus wisely secured their own apartments before arriving in Seattle, and thus never moved into the hellhole (Doug and Pat were the lucky ones whose partners were on top of it, I, the unlucky one with no wiser-half).

                                                                               

My first 'bed' in Seattle (except mine was an old wooden one)

I had no actual room, but an 'area' in the front room, in the curve of a bay window. I had a cot for a bed and a cardboard wall. Zero privacy. When I was sitting on the toilet, I could see cockroaches scattering into a hole in the wall. A family lived above us and the father was a weed dealer. People were constantly knocking at our door and asking for him. "Upstairs," we would repeat over and over. The weed dealer family upstairs had a dog, a huge pit bull. He circled the roof, barking at the dogs of the slumlord's nephew, who circled on the ground, barking back. It was chaos, 24/7 (the QFC was actually 24/7 as well), so there was all kinds of foot traffic. Ah, big city livin'! I constantly had transgender people bumming cigarettes from me. I am not sure why. I had an approachable look about me, and maybe I looked like a smoker, though I have never been a one. I had to sadly inform them of this fact.

Later, we noticed old blood stains on the floor here and there. It turned out that the house had been a 'shooting gallery', which is a house where junkies live and shoot up. The occupants during its 'heyday' as a shooting gallery were the members of a fairly well-known, old-school punk band called 'The Refuzors', so the house was known as 'The Refuzor House' (it has long since been torn down, and is probably a condo by now...or a Starbucks).

The Refuzors were a pretty decent punk band, I came to find out years later. Check out this tune (w/slideshow):
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UDm15xTlSYA
 
Also, see Mike Refuzor on a silly network TV news spot on 'Punk' in Seattle (around '81 or '82):

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zzMeJMhhkSI

Workin' men

During this time, Scott secured a job working as a grunt for a construction contractor that Johnny (the singer from H-Hour) worked for. I was having bad luck finding a job, so I ended up applying there and getting a job as well. Suddenly, I was getting up at the ass-crack of dawn and serving as a taxi service for Scott and a couple other friends who also got jobs working for the same contractor. 

Scott soon got a better job delivering Subway sandwiches on a scooter. Doug and Pat scored jobs at the Kinkos on Broadway (now gone) and eventually Scott worked there too, after Pat quit and got a great job as an editor for a small local paper (these last details are a little further on in the tale).

I was terrible at the construction job. In the beginning I did some amazing things I had never done before, and would never want to do ever, like dig a huge-tired 4 wheeled crane out of the mud, chainsaw creosote logs off that had been pounded into the Earth for a building foundation, saw those logs into smaller pieces, and load them by hand into a tractor scoop (burning the skin on my arms)...pouring foundation cement in the rain, too broke for rain boots....jackhammering asphalt for 8 hours a day. Fun.

Once, they let me help nail down plywood to a wall frame on the ground. I used a nail gun, but when we raised the wall, I had hit everywhere but the stud; The nails weaved around it like nail art. One carpenter, truly a lovely guy, a Buddhist, said to me, "You have no center." I quit soon after. 

I got a job washing dishes in an egg restaurant on Broadway called 'Egg-cetera' (I shit you not). It snowed that winter [for people not familiar with the weather in Seattle this sounds weird, but it rarely snows in winter there] and I remember looking at it fall from inside the warm kitchen with my hot coffee and free breakfast, having a new-found appreciation for an indoor job, and thinking about those poor suckers pouring foundations in the snow.

Scott and his girlfriend got an apartment in the same building as Pat and his girlfriend, also on Capitol Hill. It was time for me to figure out a different living situation.

Wayne gets a roomie...

A friend of many mutual friends (including my ex) was a Boise woman who had just moved to Seattle from Los Angeles. She and I had become friends in Boise just before I moved and she had called me from LA around that time. She hated LA and was trying to figure out what to do next, so I suggested Seattle, as she had friends from Boise who lived there. She moved in with them, not far from where we lived. I visited her and found she was in her own little hell there.

About 6 or 7 of her friends were packed into a dark, basement apartment, with a few cats that were riddled with fleas. You could see the fleas hopping up from the carpet and after only a few minutes, you could feel the bites mounting on your ankles and shins. My friend had sores all up her legs from bites. Add the constant smell of dirty cat litter and pee and poop to this scene. Between the two of us, we needed to escape, so we ended up as room mates, and eventually we became a couple, for 7 years...but that is for later and really not much to tell even then, as I am protecting her privacy.

The apartment building in which we lived was located in what was then a kind of shitty area, where lots of druggies lived in tenament housing up the street (Summit off of Pine). I often saw pissed off crack dealers walking down the street, yelling to themselves, or people completely whacked out on something wandering around like zombies. A couple nights I heard shots outside the window. Now that area is hipster heaven, of course.

The Summit Arms apartments, my first 'real' Seattle apartment for 6 months, where my roomie became my girlfriend, which reminds me of a joke: What do you call a musician without a girlfriend? 'Homeless'

The apartment itself was dim, the walls were painted gray, and though it was on the second floor, it felt like a basement apartment, as the kitchen and a nearby bedroom that had windows faced walls a couple feet away, and my bedroom windows and the windows in the living room faced a Mercedes dealer and repair shop parking lot. It was a depressing place, especially in the winter when it was as gray outside as the paint on the walls. We only lasted 6 months there, but I had a four track tape machine with only two working tracks, and I recorded some interesting songs on it (maybe I will digitize and post them here) and wrote some decent poems, and, made some pretty cool collage art during those 6 gray months. We later got a place on East Thomas next to an apartment that Doug and his girlfriend lived in, owned by the same company.

I adapted to city life very quickly. I am on the fence about reincarnation, but some things make me believe, one of them being that we have yearnings out of nowhere that seem based on deep memories, memories that should not be readily accessible from the time frames that we actually live in. I never felt totally at home in Boise, and at the time, something about the city had always attracted me, and when I lived in Seattle, I felt like I had come home, at least for awhile. Seattle became my second home town. But that is later. Even though I and others adapted pretty well, we were still Boise Boys in the Big City. We always used to repeat that old saying which applies to any town but sounds so great for us because of the alliteration; "You can take the boy out of Boise, but you can't take the Boise out of the boy." We still had a lot to learn.

Next: Bad press on our 7 inch in THE rock mag in Seattle (that later became good press, read on to find out how) a straight-edge teenage Treepeople fan club, and...Playing pop-punk in a retro '70s rock scene