Well-suited

Bellevue Cadillac's big sound

by Mark Edmonds

When Bellevue Cadillac pull into the Plantation Club next Friday, they will have come full circle, sort of. Four years ago, they were unknowns, competing against other young bands at a winter blues battle at the club. And then as now, they were misunderstood. In suits, hats, and shades, their on-stage visuals combined with a mix of original songs built of equal parts '60s soul, '40s swing, and '90s social awareness. They were refreshingly different from the other acts.

That was an assessment the judges, unfortunately, didn't agree with. Bellevue won second place. Undaunted, the band moved on, first onto the Boston scene, and then gradually to the national circuit. Now, they're poised to take their show to Europe. But their brilliant songwriting still threatens to be overshadowed by their stage outfits. Most often, once folks zero in on their zoot suits, saddle shoes, and fedoras the size of truck wheels, they're taken as a party band with nothing more to offer than a dose of nostalgia.

Doug Bell bristles at the thought of his band being relegated to novelty-act status. The look, he says, was assimilated into Bellevue's act as an alternative to wearing street clothes on stage.

"It's funny when you think about it," he begins. "One day, we looked at ourselves and saw a bunch of aging baby boomers. Rather than looking like shrunken heads in black jeans trying to hold on to our hair, we decided we'd dress ourselves in clothes from the '40s-Hollywood period. Now, people look at us and say, `Hey, what a zany looking bunch of guys!'"

Zany yes but serious, too. Bell's survived bankruptcy, cancer, and divorce. Nearing 50, he's got his own ideas on what's important in the world. Over the years, he's become adept at marrying his outfit's unique musical style to socially aware lyrical themes -- something evident on Bellevue's debut disc, Black and White (Ardeo). Packed with droll commentaries on the good, bad, and ugly about life in these United States, and sung with skillful precision by frontman/vocalist Joe Cooper (a native Detroiter who came up working gospel), the disc was hailed as "thought-provoking fun" by critics when it surfaced two years ago.

A similar, yet improved mix can be found on the band's new Prozac Nation (due out in January). Like its predecessor, swing, blues, soul, and a mix of the three set the musical mood, while the editorial focus is just as broad. Bell takes on such varied topics as spousal abuse on the somber, soul-tinged "Stay," greed and materialism on the jumpin' "Pay, Pay, Pay," and explains karmic payback on "What Goes Around." "Cup O Joe" focuses on the decline of small businesses, while "Pull the Plug" wonders how society will handle the burden of a large population of aging boomers.

They employ a Hammond organ line and drum cadence to support Cooper's impassioned pleading with his mate (who's had enough), giving "Stay" all the weighty power of one of James Carr's classics. Then, it's off to Speakeasy-era Harlem, where a jumpin' backbeat and slippery trombones tangle like two tigers on "Pay, Pay, Pay." The third track, "What Goes Around," finds Bell and Cooper back in the mid-'60s, working in a vein similar to that of Junior Parker's in the late R&B singer's Duke label days. Layered vocals and quirky horn lines serve as a backdrop to the tale of a guy who deifies the wrong things in life. It's a heck of a ride.

"We're really not trying to be preachy, but what we're hoping to do in a tongue-in-cheek way is get people to wake up to the fact that there are serious problems out there. Abusive relationships, people worried more about money than their families, small businesses struggling in the face of corporate entities taking over are all issues we have to think about.

"We only hope they'll take a closer look into what were saying as we do them," he says.

Lately, he's had another thing to worry about: appeasing audiences who buck his band's musical cross-pollination. But, he says, this isn't an insurmountable obstacle.

"We just re-configure the songs that don't fit to match the gig," he explains. "For us, it's a schizophrenic kind of thing. But then everybody's happy."

Bellevue Cadillac play the Plantation Club at 9 p.m. on January 2. Call 752-4666.