ON_THE_ROCKS

The Worcester Phoenix
January 4 - 11, 2001

[On The Rocks]

Guitars, bars, and gorilla grams

Joe Rockhead's upbeat rock and downbeat lyrics

by Brian Goslow
If modern day rock and roll is about anything, it's about artists seeking to create an image intended to produce a reaction -- sometimes a physical one -- to convince people to buy their CD and T-shirt. Joe Rockhead aren't asking you to the fight the power (indeed, vocalist and guitarist Tom Hurley is a Worcester Police Officer), spend $175 for a satin tour jacket with their name on it, or
give up feeding the kids to take your loved one to their next show. They do, however, want you pick up their new CD King, which is being released this week, to check out one of their live shows, and come along for the ride (buses will be waiting).
Anytime you review an album, it's a game of spot the influences. When I arrive at Hurley's home/recording studio to interview the band, he isn't playing the expected Matchbox 20, Third Eye Blind, or latter-period REM, but Yule Struttin' -- A Blue Note Christmas, the case for which sits alongside John Prine's Lost Dogs and Mixed Blessings, Natalie Merchant's Tiger Lily, Cake's Prolonging the Magic, and the Dave Brubeck Quartet's Take Five. But, his CD rack does hold many of the influences that come to mind listening to Joe Rockhead -- the Dire Straits, Crash Test Dummies' Give Yourself a Hand, REM's Monster, and Live. "That's the closest comparison you can make," Hurley admits. "It's a compliment. We play pop music. What's wrong with that?"
Hurley's cohorts, guitarist Chris Chamberland, bassist Mike Roberts, and drummer Chuck Schliker, have different tastes. "In that, it's more off the cuff," Hurley says, adding King is partly an exorcism. "Some of the songs are five years old, but they weren't mature enough to record at the time. We tried to play them as a three piece band, but rhythmically, it didn't work. Back last winter, when I knew we would be doing another CD, I looked at these tunes and asked myself how I could make them better.
"Some started on cocktail napkins and matchbox covers. I do a lot of writing when I'm driving. I'll be going down I-290 and writing on the armrest." Sometimes, however, traffic doesn't allow time to search for the needed tools. "I can't tell you how many songs have disappeared because I didn't have a pen."
On the Hootie-esque title track, Hurley declares, "I am king/Of saying the wrong thing," begging forgiveness, one more time, from "the queen of `go to hell.'" There are few listeners who wouldn't relate those words to a past relationship. If they can relate them to a current one, Hurley might be in line for a royalty check.
While his lyrics may read like an ongoing documentation of the battle of the sexes, Hurley says his lyrics are more about human interaction. "Quite a few are relationship songs, not just about girls."
"Down" reads like the words of any guy who's found himself heading home alone at 2 a.m. after a disappointing night chasing the object of his affection around a bar ("I'm the last to learn your little lessons/I'm the last to burn in the fire at night/ And I'm the last to earn your acceptance/I'm the last to learn -- light my fire again") -- but like many a great song -- it's got room for dual interpretations. "It's about a relationship with a past band member that wasn't going to work out -- he really brought me down," says the frontman. "It was classic Tom Hurley. Fifteen cigarettes into a pack -- I was smoking at the time -- and where was this guy now that it was time to carry the equipment back down the stairs of the Above Club and into the van? It was a complaint song, but the actual playing of the song makes me happy."
Standing alone, Hurley's lyrics portray a fairly bleak view of the world. "If you just read [the lyrics], you say, `get this guy a psychiatrist fast!'" Accompanied by music, however, the words take on an ironic good-time feel. "We throw in a couple of twang guitars," Schliker laughs when asked how they convert them into cheerful pop songs. "We joke about it and call him, `Mr. Happy' or `Mr. Funny.'"
Surely Joe Rockhead has a humorous song inside them? "Use the Presidents of the United States for example," says Hurley. "they write about `Little Dune,' `Buggy,' `Kitty,' and songs about boll weevils -- but I can't write that way."
Chamberland adds, "I could write a song about Ferris wheels, but it would be the worst song about a Ferris wheel."
"`Star' is the only happy song I've written," Hurley says. Indeed, as he sings, "If you leave the light on/I promise to wake you up when I get home/And tell you stories `bout every little thing that's been going on/We'll make shadows, in the pale blue flicker of the TV's light," you get the idea, after 17 years of songwriting, he may have finally found the soulmate most musicians hope to attract by becoming a performer in the first place.
King's final track, "A.S.A.," is one of the few times Hurley has written a song clearly based on his experiences on the day job. "I wrote it as an observation of domestic violence," he says. "You hear the whole revenge thing. People have a hard time discerning if it's my own experience or something I've witnessed."
Prior to the recording of King, producer Fran Flannery suggested the songs would be enhanced by hiring an organist to join them in the studio. Enter Gary Jewers, formerly of Hot Box Shuffle and currently with 31 North, whose B3 organ gives the group a late 1960s, early 1970s feel -- think Eric Clapton's Blind Faith or Derek and the Dominos -- that catapults the album onto a level equal to most of the material currently played on adult contemporary radio. It belongs on the WXLOs, Rivers, and WBOSes of America. "We're a local band, but only because someone hasn't cleaned the shit out of their ears yet," says the always self-confident Hurley.
Joe Rockhead have utilized a variety of tactics to attract the attention of those who could bestow a recording contract upon them. "Chris had a friend at Columbia [Records] who said he'd help," says Hurley. "We put together a beautiful package with a humidor with his favorite cigars -- but we never got past his secretary.
"We sent a gorilla gram to a guy at Aware Records in Chicago -- at least he sent me a letter by his own hand -- `Thanks for the gorilla.'"
"There's so many people who promised us to get CDs to [the proper] people," says Chamberland, acknowledging the rules have changed since the group released its first album in 1994. "It's time to do it for ourselves."
That's included establishing www.joerock.com, a web site where fans can go for band news and upcoming concert dates. They've also attempted a number of alliances to widen the group's presence on the Internet.
"People have good intentions," says Chamberland, explaining the band's experience with redbutton.com, an independent E-zine and music channel. "They said, `We're going to put bands on our web site and only sign bands we think are good and hope people buy their records.' Somewhere, along the way, they got taken over by the major labels."
The group also performed for the world via onlinetv.com, which broadcast four of their appearances at the Spiral Lounge in New York City. "I sent lots of E-mails to record companies and management companies," Chamberland says. Wanting to put on the best performance, Joe Rockhead enlisted the support of their devoted fans. "We chartered buses a couple of times and brought 60, 65 people," says Schliker. "They really feel they're part of something extraordinary," Hurley adds, "and it makes us feel good about ourselves."
The actual shows were a blur. "It was band after band after band," says Hurley. "You play a 25 minute set and you better get off stage when you're done. The guy told us to mug for the camera and that's what we did." While admitting, "It didn't help all that much," he says, "It was a cool medium. Our families tried to watch -- some could, some couldn't -- but they're not going to give you a record deal. You want someone watching from a record company in Los Angeles or New York."
Looking to the future, Hurley recently built a professional recording studio at his home, taking advantage of the liquidation of a Cambridge studio. That meant his girlfriend Kelly, who already endures Joe Rockhead's regular practice sessions, had to watch them rip up and rewire the entire house. And his dog Murray, immortalized on the studio wall barking, "Turn that shit down!," on a drawing by Lennie Peterson (who illustrated King's cover and contributed his always tasty trombone playing), will have to keep his paws over his ears on a weekly basis, as almost a decade after Joe Rockhead got its start, Hurley isn't ready to give up his dreams of hitting the Billboard charts.
"I'm not done yet."

Brian Goslow can be reached at bgoslow[a]phx.com.