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
band-mates 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 ~*
A silly Steve Fisk disclaimer: Steve Fisk is everywhere in this blog because, as you can/will see, we worked together a lot during this time, and we work together still. Deal with it! (Or, make it into a drinking game).
Social life, home life
I have often thought about how if I never became a musician, my social life would have most likely been pretty minimal. Looking back at the most social time in my life would be to look back on this time of which I write now, a time when I was most active as a musician, so this fits.
Kellie Payne, the singer, songwriter and guitarist of the band Faintly Macabre, one of the bands I was playing drums in, became a good friend and we bonded. She was and is a phenomenal pool player, so we spent a fair amount of off time hitting local bars with pool tables. I played as well, but I wasn't very good. As mentioned, Kellie is small and pretty and this was the mid '90s so a common fashion in the 'alt/indie' world for women and trans folks was cool, vintage baby-doll dresses. So when she put herself on the list of a bunch of dudes playing a table at any given bar, many of them would see her walk up to the table and immediately get an attitude and be fools. And then she would humiliate them. I loved it. I really enjoyed watching her kick some big macho dude's butt who scoffed at the fact that she even played pool, and she would then take the table for hours until she got bored and give it away. I play a lot of pool these days, and I'm much better! Thankfully the idea of a guy assuming a woman can't play pool very well in present times (2024), I am happy to report, seems strange (most of the time - it's much better we will say).
We started out any given night playing pool most often in a bar called Linda's on Pine Street on Capitol Hill (more on this particular corridor of the Hill, which became a hub of the music scene, later) where many of the aforementioned macho assholes played, and then we would head to other bars that had tables.
A memorable night was when we hit the dive bar The Terry Tavern on Pill Hill, an area that was pretty sketchy at the time, especially at night. It is called Pill Hill because most of the hospitals and drug rehab places are concentrated there. There was a lot of crime in the area and mentally disturbed addicts walking around (I don't know if it is still like that, but I wouldn't be surprised if it is, or is worse, like crime is generally in Seattle since I lived there until 2003). The Terry Tavern is (was?) a pretty tiny establishment, with a small bar in the front and a small main room with tables and chairs to the left with a pool table that took up most of the room.
Right when we walked in the door there was a scrawny, sketchy white man on the payphone attached to the wall to the left and he was clearly upset, from what we overheard it sounded like he wasn't getting the drugs he wanted to buy, and he exploded in fury, grabbed a glass ashtray near him and threw it at the cement floor, smashing it to pieces. The bartender, a big, badass looking white woman, without missing a beat, grabbed a sawed off pool cue she kept behind the bar for just such occasions and leapt over the bar, charging at the man, who swiftly ran around us, almost knocking me over, and out the exit. The bartender chased him up the street a bit, then came back and served us as if nothing unusual had happened, because at that place, that actually wasn't unusual.
The pool table was being dominated by a tall Native American woman who beat every man that challenged her, holding the table. She seemed bored as hell. Kellie put herself on the list and soon she was up. The game was fierce, some of the best pool I have seen. In the end, Kellie won. The woman was impressed and shook her hand, nodding approval.
The rest of my social life at this time revolved around gigs; At house parties, bars and halls. Sometimes I was playing them in one of the 3 bands I was in, sometimes attending a show a friend's band or a band I wanted to see was playing. At home I did art and wrote poetry, and occasionally wrote and recorded simple songs on a Fostex cassette 4 track recording deck, the home recording device of choice then.
Home is where the cats are...It's name then was Wallingford.
I was digging my apartment in the Wallingford neighborhood, a somewhat suburban neighborhood, though one that was considered suburban a couple generations prior, when Seattle was still growing, so that by the time I lived there, it was more like an outer town which had it's own infrastructure, stores, shops, etc., that was absorbed by the greater metropolitan area. It was a mellow place to live, and just a few miles Northwest of the hub of Seattle. It became my home base. For a short time I got a job at a small hummus and dip company about 5 blocks away started by a couple out of their house that had grown to the point where they turned their garage into a walk in refrigerator and distributed their hummus, black bean and curry lentil dips to small and major stores all over Washington.
My apartment was tiny, as mentioned, but really charming and well laid out. It was in a small U shape, located at the back corner of a large apartment house with about 10 apartments in it. You walked into a small front room, which was the base of the U shape. One side of the U was the small bathroom to the right, and the other was the kitchen, the window of which overlooked a large yard and garden where one year I even grew some things: squash, tomatoes and cucumbers; I once made chili using all the above and a few different kinds of tomatoes from my neighbor's garden, I used no recipe, just winged it, and it was the best chili I had ever tasted, but alas, I didn't write anything down, so that it was, to quote the sax player of a band I was in in Boston, "too the wind."
My neighbors were all pretty mellow young people, one of whom was the apartment manager who lived across the hall. He was super chill, he worked at an electric vehicle company (at the time, the idea of an electric car was fairly novel, as there was near zero infrastructure to support them). He had a badass red cat named Fellini (so named after the great Italian filmmaker).
Noose and Horce, RIP
At the time I had inherited two awesome cats from the breakup; Horce and Noose (Horce was named after a weird used record my ex and I bought, a thrift store purchase, by a family country band, one of the songwriters listed was named 'Horace Whitley,' but they misspelled it as 'Horce' (we pronounced it like 'horse') and Noose was so named as when I picked him out at a friend's house, he was playing with a toy noose. Horce was a 20 lb Mainecoone and Noose was a medium sized black cat. Horce was a lover but with other cats he was always dominant in all the neighborhoods I/we lived in. My apartment manager had built an incredible ramp for Fellini (the only cat Horce ever bowed to, he stayed out of his way) from his window to the wooden stairs behind the house. I followed suit with a long plank and just left my window open all the time, whether I was there or not, when the weather allowed it, so Horce could come and go as he pleased. He was in heaven. Noose, who was kind of a scaredy cat, had tried hanging outside but didn't like it and chose to stay inside wherever we ended up living for the rest of what would be his long 18 year life.
"Heaven sent/With halo bent..." Recording the Halo Benders album Don't Tell Me Now and touring
I am jumping back in time here a bit to 1995 as I missed it in that entry. The Halo Benders, as mentioned, had become an active band of sorts, though one in which we all participated in when we could, being that we were all very busy with other bands, projects: running a label, touring, producing records, etc, respectively. As a result, in the interest of best using our limited time, we were very productive and efficient when we did get together.
This second Halo Benders album, which would come to be named Don't Tell Me Now (so named by Calvin, he named all the HB records), was recorded at Calvin's house, his inherited childhood home in Olympia, Washington. We had recorded the first record God Don't Make No Junk there as well, but that was tracked entirely in the basement. This time we tracked in different places all over the house, mostly in the front rooms on the main level, and this gave it a decidedly different live sound; More open, with more natural, warm reverb from wood floors and sheet-rock walls in the rooms.
The songs were sort of thrown together as I remember it, rather than written as an album, though truthfully because of the aforementioned nature of how and when we got together, that makes a certain kind of sense generally with this band; It wasn't a traditional band in that we didn't all live in the same city, and this band wasn't our primary focus as musicians. On the other hand, compared to God Don't Make No Junk, we were certainly more of a cohesive unit by this point, in that the experimental 'project' nature of the first record had morphed into a group who recorded regularly and toured as a band (more on that below).
Calvin Johnson feels similarly, per a response on my prompt for his thoughts about this recording session: "Since the first album by The Halo Benders (God Don't Make no Junk [KLP029]) [Can you tell he is a record label owner? ; ) ] was recorded by Doug and I experimenting with song ideas, it was all recorded piecemeal. Songs were put together with pieces we had, augmented by Wayne or Ralf playing rhythm parts to give the songs more body. There was never a recording with everyone at the same time. Recording Don't Tell Me Now [KLP046] we wanted more of a band experience, recording the songs with everyone playing together. After putting together the Dub Narcotic Studio in the basement (1993) and recording several records down there (God Don't Make no Junk [KLP029] was one of the first), we soon started experimenting with recording in other parts of the house.This worked well for The Halo Benders "band" approach. We set up bass drums guitars in the living room. Solid action. The back-up singers also recorded upstairs, more elbow room. When Steve Fisk came to add his keyboards, he played in the basement, though. Having the band off in their own space was crucial to getting a good band vibe, it was more Fisk's style to be there at the heart of it all as he improvised his contributions to the songs."
Fisk remembers his contribution a bit differently; He remembers that by the time he showed up to lay down keys, Doug had already played and recorded many of the parts. Part of the problem for him at this stage of the Halo Benders was that he was in one of the busiest periods of his producing career and with projects he worked on as a musician (like Pigeonhed with the beloved Seattle songwriter Shawn Smith, RIP) and had little time to dedicate to anything else. But as Calvin mentions, the parts he did lay down added just what the record needed and was often what kept some songs cohesive, and as well he added some fun stuff as flavor, which became an important part of the signature of a lot of what we did, to my mind. "It's a great record....I was always so proud of my time working with the Halo Benders," Fisk told me recently. And as you can tell by now if you have read the last few entries, I feel the same way!
Ralf Youtz shared some thoughts with me on Don't Tell Me Now (in a document he sent me titled, 'Don't Tell Ralf Now'); "...We sound more like a band here to me, less like Calvin's and Doug's
studio project..." Ralf's take on some songs; "[Bomb Shelter
Part 1]...This is my favorite one of Halo Benders basement punk
songs...[Bomb Shelter Part 2] This song is the song I'm most proud of as a
Halo Bender. Calvin's anti-patriotic lyrics are perfect. Doug's lyrics
amplify the feeling without being too nihilistic. And the music captures
Doug's, Wayne's, and my playing together at it's best...the dubby,
echo-soaked mix rules. Steve Fisk, was that you? Wow. Good
one....[Volume Mode] I brought this guitar part to the band. I'm wildly
pleased with how well Doug, Wayne, and Calvin made it into this unique
song...Magic Carpet Rider I had a couple ideas on guitar for this song
which Wayne, Doug, and Calvin developed into something special. I even
still play this one at my rare solo shows..."
Don't Tell Me Now has great moments, like Bomb-shelter parts 1 and 2, part 1 of which featured a group of friends who stopped by one of the sessions to sing backups, including my then partner and also my previously mentioned band-mate Kellie Wohlrab-Payne (who sang the line "Think about all the time you've wasted, workin' on your...(group sings) BOMB-SHEL-TER!") which lyrically is a statement about the paranoia from the Cold War which led private citizens in the US to build personal bombshelters ("...A civil defense waste of time...") and part 2 of which features an amazing diatribe by Calvin that Ralf mentions above, about creative draft dodging (ie, actually registering, but hundreds of times as a form of protest to jam the system; "Ain't no law ag'in it", he says in a folksy drawl). Listen to Bombshelter Part 1 and Bombshelter Part 2.
I would say it is definitely the most punk influenced Halo Benders album, with fast paced and loose songs like the opener, Phantom Power and the punk/sort of metal tune Crankenstein. It was the most fun album to record, without a doubt, and the mood was mellow and even festive, with friends dropping by, barbecues, and just a general good vibe. But the whole time of the Halo Benders had that vibe, for me at least. At the time my involvement making music with these guys was a fun break from all the "serious" music I was making with Violent Green and Faintly Macabre in Seattle (which was dear to me, but every artist needs a break once in awhile from doing the same types of creative projects). Phil Ek (who had just made a name for himself for his production of Built to Spill's excellent breakout album There's Nothing Wrong With Love (which, incidentally, Built to Spill are currently, at this writing, doing a tour of, playing the entire record as a set to commemorate the anniversary) did a great job of making all the songs sound cohesive in his mixes.
The photos below are photos of hard copies (we didn't have no fancy smart phones then) so this is all I got! I tried to enhance some of them but it didn't translate well, sometimes I am lazy, so I give up! I don't remember who took these, I probably took the ones that I am not in. If the photographer happens to be reading this, reach out and let me know at waynerayflower@gmail.com (also, the Blogger software is sometimes wonky & limited when it comes to aligning things, so I did my best on the text and photo alignment).
Doug Martsch, Ralf Youtz & (some of) Calvin's vinyl
Halo Benders also toured this same year in the Northwest and Southwest, including LA. Notable things happened, but I will summarize them here. To get it out of the way, yes, I was driving when we were pulled over in Utah by a state trooper with a Real Stories of the Highway Patrol film crew in the car (RSOTHP was a popular exploitative reality cop show at the time, modeled after the even more popular show Cops) and I was arrested for a tiny amount of marijuana on me, and yes, they aired it because I was from Seattle and a musician, and the music scene in Seattle attracted a lot of press in the mid-'90s. I was pulled over for 'camping in the left lane' (on a desert road, with no other cars around for miles) but I think it is safe to say it was because we were obviously a band. They held me long enough for me to pay bail, then let me go, trial by phone pending at a later date. The episode was edited in a way that cut out all the challenging questions we asked them about this disreputable sham and abuse of 'law enforcement,' and of filming people, to which neither the police or the camera crew had any real answers to (in the case of the camera crew, they said nothing). That is all I have to write about it, sorry. People think it is so cool for some reason, but for us, not cool at all, and a low point of all the tours we did. I will, however, write about the show that happened after this incident in Salt Lake City, as it is an example of how some US states are little police states.
Rookie Cop Pepper Sprays Harmless Nerds, News at 11
My personal history with Salt Lake City in terms of playing music there and having musician friends from there up to that point had been a positive one. The hardcore punk band State of Confusion which I played bass in in the '80s (and which morphed into the band Treepeople, as you have read in this blog if you have read the whole thing, and if not, what the fuck are you waiting for?) played Salt Lake City a lot, usually much bigger and better shows than we played in our home city of Boise, Idaho. The oppressive aspects of a city run by rich, conservative Mormons (and by way of the implication of that statement, yes, there are liberal Mormons, such as my old friend and eventual band mate in Commonauts and seminal figure in both the Boise and Seattle music scenes, Jon Hale, RIP, no blame to them) were familiar to us, as the same folks had founded Boise, and it inevitably created a backlash in SLC in the form of a huge punk scene in the '80s and '90s. We loved playing there, and Salt Lake City loved SOC.
But that was in the '80s. By the mid '90s the cops were cracking down on the punk scene in SLC. Halo Benders played, or rather, was to play, a show in a house that some young folks had rented in order to hold indie rock and punk shows. We were setting up our equipment when a cop car pulled up outside. A lone young cop entered the house and immediately started harassing the kids who were putting it on. These kids were just nerdy, mild mannered indie dorks; Built to Spill fans, fans of Calvin's record label K Records. And this cop was yelling at them like they were rioting, drug-crazed punks. They gathered around him, trying to calm him down. He felt threatened (and at this point it became clear he was a rookie) and broke out some pepper spray and sprayed many of them in the face! He got on his radio and called in back up! I had just been arrested, mind you, so I was livid. I started angrily loading my drums back into the van, yelling and ranting (I also hadn't had much sleep, I was a bit delirious). 4 cop cars pulled up and the cops swarmed the harmless nerd party, breaking it up.
As we drove to the house we were staying at, a whole caravan of cars followed us as Calvin had invited the indie nerds to come buy some records. On the way, I ranted a bit more, then passed out in the back of the van. Behind us, the nerds in cars followed, and behind them, a few cops cars also followed. We arrived at the house we were staying at, the cops drove on, and the young ones gathered at the back of the van, where Calvin sold them cool records for cheap. All's well that ends well, I guess! But let's just say when Violent Green toured not long after this and drove through Utah, I was anxious to get the hell out of that state.
Couch surfing at Beck's place on tour
Calvin was friends with Beck and had recorded a record for him called One Foot in the Grave at Dub Narcotic Studio (the same house studio we were recording/had recorded at) and in fact, after the first album Calvin recorded there, our first record God Don't Make No Junk, One Foot in the Grave was the second full album had ever recorded there. This album was actually recorded before Beck's breakout album Mellow Gold, but was released after. It's a wonderful record that represents his acoustic, folk and blues open mic days in LA and New York City (and as another odd 6th degree of separation, my next partner said when she lived in LA, Beck used to couch surf at her and her roommates' apartment and eat all their food and drink all their beer, so they were never fans!) and features Olympia musicians from the awesome band Lync and others. It is easily my favorite Beck record and a unique gem that stands out on its own among all of his work.
I mention all this 'Beckness' as when Halo Benders played in LA (at the wonderful, gone but not forgotten coffee shop/music venue Jabber Jaw), we stayed at Beck's apartment for a few days. At the time, he was rehearsing with a band he had assembled that was about to tour Japan. Mellow Gold's hit Loser that put Beck on the map had just blown up and he was on the way to fame. I didn't talk to him much, I slept on the couch in the living room and I saw him in the mornings when he was on the way to rehearsals, we chatted as he made coffee and then said our goodbye each day. He also had a wonderful party when we stayed there, attended by a wide range of memorable characters from the film and music industries and/or the neighborhood who were great fun. Calvin also had a friend who worked at Universal Studios and got us some passes for the theme park. We went on some of the rides, kinda fun, but the lines we had to wait in for each ride were way too long.
Halo Benders play Jabberjaw, Los Angles, California, 1995 (photographer unknown)
In general, this tour and indeed all following Halo Benders tours went well. Audiences got into our sets, and really it was kind of easy as there was already a large contingent of fans built in for Doug and Built to Spill and Calvin and K Records and all the cool bands and music projects he had done (Beat Happening, Dub Narcotic Sound System, and his solo work, among other collaborations). After all, people weren't coming to see Ralf and I! But we were more than happy to be along for the ride.
Playing to Reedies in Portland with Love as Laughter and Miranda July
Originally in working on this entry I had a whole other section here about Violent Green recording our second album From Cycles of Heat but it made the entry way too long overall, so I moved it to Part 49. The good news is, that means half of that part is already written so hopefully it won't be so damn long between entries. Included below are some links th Halo Benders live around the time I write of here.
Halo Benders live - 1995/96
1995 at the Capitol Theater, Olympia, WA ~ Footage shot by Jonathan Brogger
Halo Benders Live at Capitol Theater - Inbred Heart
Halo Benders Live at Capitol Theater - Don't Touch My Bikini
Halo Benders Live at Capitol Theater - Blank Equation
Halo Benders Live at Capitol Theater - Bombshelter Pt 1 & Pt 2
1996 at Cellophane Square Records, Seattle, WA (note that there are also videos of the performance the same day as the Cellophane Square show at the UW Hub Ball Room, but the quality is not great so they are not included - you can find them on You tube if you must see them!)
Halo Benders Live at Cellophane Square Records - Part 1
Halo Benders Live at Cellophane Square Records - Part 2
Halo Benders Live at Cellophane Square Records - Part 3
Be well,
Wayne R. Flower II, 10/30/24
