Heavy debt

A tribute to Fishbone; plus take notice of the Preston Wayne Four

by John O'Neill

In popular music, there are few artists who set the style and tone through a specific formula and then there is the multitude who jump on the bandwagon, whether it be through direct influence, paying homage, or boasting the desire to cash in while the trend is in vogue. For every Beatles there are a Dave Clark Five, every Nirvana a Bush and every Hank Williams a Hank Williams Jr. Although some of the imitators are immediately exposed, or will expose themselves when they jump stylistic fences for greener pastures, it's generally through the luxury of twenty-twenty hindsight we're able to sort the good from the bad -- those with honest intentions from the savvy poseur propped up for mass consumption by corporate suits. And then, every so often, a band like Fishbone come along and pull the rug out from under convention by defying categorization.

Exploding out of South Central Los Angeles in 1985 with Fishbone EP (Columbia), they began their assault on America with a hybrid of ska, funk, rock, and punk. Building a national following with a blistering live act, Fishbone were able to mix their raucous sound with lyrics that were both witty and charged with social commentary.

During the next 12 years, without the benefit of commercial radio airplay, Fishbone released seven albums and a Japanese retrospective, Singles, to varying degrees of critical success. Although mainstream stardom eludes them, quite possibly due to the band's stunning diversity (they subsequently delved into jazz, soul, rap, metal, and reggae), there's no doubting their initiative or imagination in exploring genres, nor can you doubt the influence they have had on others who have found much greater commercial success. The Mighty Mighty Bostones, Living Colour, Sublime, No Doubt, and even California contemporaries the Red Hot Chili Peppers all eat from the same table Fishbone has set. Their importance is held particularly close to home by a number of Wormtown's more popular bands. Chillum, Super Creb Star Dynomax, and Seven Hill Psychos all owe a huge debt to Fishbone's original vision as genre benders even as they themselves attempt to take this amalgamated sound to the next level.

You can party at ground zero with one of America's true originals this Monday, November 3, at Sir Morgan's Cove. Tickets are $14 in advance and $15 the day of the show.

PW4

Worcester's chief practitioners of the instrumental, the Preston Wayne Four, continue to make inroads into Boston. Founded at the start of 1997 by Wormtown's under-appreciated guitar ace, Preston Wayne, as a side project to his regular gig with the Time Beings, the PW4 have become quite popular in their own right and are featured regularly at Club Bohemia, a/k/a the Kirkland Cafe, where they continue to draw rave reviews from fanzines and locals alike. "It's going really well," says guitarist Kevin Smith, "no one wants to beat us up anymore after shows."

The PW4 sound, while firmly grounded in the traditional '60s-surf and hot-rod styles, owes as much to psychedelia as it does to Dick Dale or the Ventures. Think of it as Hendrix falling off his board and going under for the third time. "There really isn't anything around like [our sound] so traditionalists were pretty upset at first," says drummer Dave Kowalchek. "Now they dig it and we get a good reception. Women even talk to us!" Cowabunga!

Just a thought

Working within the music business on any level helps you realize that while music can be a lot of things, fair isn't one of them. Case in point: Link Wray. This very columnist suggested last week that he belongs in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. After all, next to Elvis and the Beatles, there really isn't another person who shaped the sound of rock more than Wray. No Link = no Clapton, no Townsend, no Hendrix. No kidding.

Imagine, at age 67, anyone of rock's luminaries flying from Denmark to New York, hopping a shuttle up to Hartford, grabbing a ride into Northampton, arriving literally 10 minutes before the set. No sound check, no dinner, no change of clothes, all on two hours sleep. Link Wray did. And when he hit the D-D-E intro to "Rumble" there was absolutely no doubt in the Iron Horse crowd who is the greatest rock and roller of all time. He continued to drive that point home for the next hour and a half.

While the Rolling Stones fleece their way from stadium to stadium, Wray will be grinding it out in clubs. While they fly in a private jet and stay in five-star hotel suites, he'll drive across the country in a rental van and sleep wherever it's convenient. And while they'll continue to be praised as the definitive rock-and-roll band (in my opinion, they're saved only by Richards from becoming a glorified disco act), there will always be the minority who were lucky enough to witness the truth.