Old faithful

Todd Blake keeps Old Glory flying

by John O'Neill

The punk movement, specifically hardcore, has always embraced the DIY maxim. Operating under the radar screen of mainstream, rumbling deep down in the underground, existing outside conventional media and hip clubs and big-money record contracts, DIY is as much a necessity as it is a badge of integrity. Record labels are often homegrown, gigs get traded off ("I'll gladly get you a show in Trenton Tuesday, for a show in Worcester today"), and everyone is welcome to find a spot on the floor once the evening's over. The genre itself (and its many unfortunately fragmented sub-genres) has expanded from a platform to address societal/global issues into a full-fledged way of life. And it's a lifestyle that goes to great lengths to remain separate from the standard.

And no one knows that better than Todd Blake, owner of Worcester-based Old Glory Records. In the spirit of DIY, he has helped rebuild the well-known hardcore label and distribution company, after moving it from Vermont to its current Franklin Street locale.

"It's very much a DIY underground. It's not about money or prestige, it's about getting a message out there and supporting bands and ideas that don't receive [attention] in everyday life," he explains.

Blake has helped bridge the gap between bands and music fans the world over, using the simple rationale that change is good, voices should be heard, and dissension is an energy to harness.

"The only way things progress in society is by finding common ground, so I'm interested in what a band has to say," he says. "So it's not about the straight-edge movement or emo. To quibble with people who share the same [basic] ideas isn't a great introduction. . . . I'm less picky about lifestyle."

Founded in the late '80s in Brattleboro, Vermont, by Kevin Sabarese (of Iconoclast fame), Old Glory quickly became a respected hardcore label, producing and distributing music at cut-rate prices. Early releases included compilation albums and Iconoclast, Merel, and Avail (who have since graduated to bigger labels, Lookout! and Fat Wreck Chords). Blake, a label fan and Sabarese acquaintance, offered to drive up from Worcester to help run the operation. And slowly he became OG's driving force.

"Kevin took off for Germany in '96. I moved up there, watched his animals, and ran the label full time. He was also opening a record store, so he let the label slip. By winter of '97, I knew it was gonna die, so I asked him if I could move Old Glory down here," says Blake.

He took the failing company, which, as a distributor for more than 200 small labels, had fallen severely behind on fulfilling orders. He began straightening out a fairly big mess (and honored back orders) and restored Old Glory's tarnished reputation.

"It was influential in the emo/hardcore scene, and I didn't want it to die," he says. "Old Glory has a tradition that I want to continue and expand."

Since moving to Wormtown (Sabarese officially handed over the label in July), 33-year-old Blake has released six albums (including Kansas City's Killsadie and a split LP with California's Nexus 6 and Funeral Diner; he also started re-pressing the Avail back catalogue). Three more are on the way by year-end, and Old Glory currently stocks more than 550 titles available through mail order (you can check out the Web sight at www.oldgloryrecords.com).

In a testament to be-true-to-your-school (and a subtle finger at conformity), most releases are vinyl-only and include extra goodies like literature, bookmarks, and stickers. Unlike larger (read: greedy) labels/distro houses, most of Old Glory's catalogue retails at five bucks per album, and five to nine dollars for a CD. Now, a majority of sales are through mail order, but Blake is working on a deal that would get Old Glory into 300 retail stores. It's a lot of work for essentially a one-man operation, and, naturally, the pay stinks.

"I don't have a problem with people making money, but I do have a problem with hardcore labels talking about `truth' and `youth' then charging lots of money. It's a lie," he says. "I used to deal with labels on consignment, now it's all pre-pay. And exclusive distro ups the price for everyone because now there's another mark-up involved. If you pool your resources it should lower your costs, not raise them! There are a lot of people who can't afford to spend 15 bucks on a CD."

Blake, now that damage control is complete and Old Glory is again on solid ground, sees a healthy future for hardcore and, specifically, for the label.

"You have to be honest and open, and that's what I concentrate on. Hardcore opened my eyes, it was my teacher. I know it still does that today, even if it's a more poetic or introspective type of style. It's a nice feeling when someone writes to say, I loved X, Y, or Z band. And it really happens."

Good Fortune

Sometimes Sucks

It was only a matter of time till we lost him: at last, the bell of success tolls for Troy Gonyea. Our favorite young ax slinger is headed for the West Coast to work with blues great James Harman. Not only that, piano shaker Mark Stevens is going with him.

"It almost seemed like perfect timing as [the Premiers] rhythm section was leaving and [Harman] needed a piano player," says Gonyea. "It's a step up work-wise. Up till now I've been working part-time jobs so this will be real nice. I haven't had much of a taste of touring, and James tours frequently. Plus, I'm excited because he's one of the best blues singers around. We're on the same level as we like the same styles of music."

Gonyea and Stevens head for Orange County, California, this Friday after a final Night Train gig at Vincent's on August 5. Then it's immediately out on the road for a month-long tour with the James Harman Blues Band, followed by studio work.

While it's a pretty big blow to the local blues scene, there is no doubt Gonyea is slated for great things. The real plus in this story is Stevens, who has developed into a world-class player since his early days in J.B. and the Activators. It couldn't have happened to nicer cats. As for the rest of us, now we have something to sing the blues over. Good luck, you rat-finks!