Going Ape
This LA trio let it all Hang out in Worcester
by John O'Neill
You'd be hard-pressed to find a group as up-beat, as congenial, and as
reasonably well-adjusted as the Ape Hangers, considering what they've been
through in the past three years. Once Los Angeles residents with a major-label
record deal, now they live in Worcester and are looking to get a second chance;
it's been an interesting ride that has brought the band to the fabled Worm
City. Along the way they've toured the country, met and spilled beer on Cheap
Trick's Tom Petterson (an acknowledged band influence), almost ran over Elvis
Costello (during his bearded and fat stage), and appeared on at least four or
five movie soundtracks, by their count, including the enormously popular CD for
the insufferable movie Empire Records.
"The studio people shelved it twice," says guitarist and chief
songwriter Pete Sjostedt. "I tried renting it once. In 10 minutes I shut it
off. Luckily our song ("I Don't Want To Live Today") is in the opening
credits."
"Kids are all over that movie, they have Rocky Horror-style parties to
it where they repeat the lines. I still get e-mail from Empire fans,"
adds bassist Bob Kiah of how the 1995 movie gets them continued notice. He,
however, is prouder of the band's addition to B-movie king Roger Corman's
straight-to-video, sexploitation epic Caged Heat 3,000 "It's your basic
women-in-prison-camp-in-outer-space video. There's a comic book that goes with
it."
The story of the Ape Hangers, besides making for fascinating conversation, is
essentially a mix of one beautiful accident after the next, and flat-out shit
luck, both good and bad. They formed in Los Angeles as a virtual afterthought
by Bay State natives Sjostedt, Kiah, and recent Boston transplant Dennis
McCarthy (ex-Prime Mover), after the demise of their previous band Head.
"We were leaving California to come home and Pete had a few songs he wanted to
demo on four track," explains Kiah. "A guy from Sony put us in the studio and
it snowballed from there."
Though Sony took a pass on the tape, A&M tapped the Hangers to be the
first band to record on their new Studio C subsidiary. The record was completed
in a week, before an actual contract was signed; and then the higher-ups
decided to release the album on A&M, a genuine shock to a trio who can best
be described as garage pop.
"For us it felt immature, but what are you gonna do, say `Fuck it, I don't
want a major-label deal' ?"
The Ape Hangers, bolstered by generally good reviews of their debut, Ultra
Sounds, as well as their inclusion on Empire Records, flew back to
the East Coast and set up residency in Worcester, only to be dropped by A&M
-- two days before setting out on a national tour -- in the label's year-ending
budget slash.
"They made a bottom-line decision," says Kiah. "It happens. We'll take what we
got cause they were good to us."
Although many bands would have immediately disintegrated, or at least
introduced the requisite line-up change after such an unceremonious release,
the Ape Hangers instead rented rehearsal space on Webster Street, fleshed out a
batch of new songs, and went back into the studio to release their second
full-length CD, Ape Hangers (Jerrytoons). Loaded with big pop hooks,
rough-and-tumble guitar, and heavy-hitting drums, Sjostedt and company produce
15 songs that showcase what all the hype was about the first time around.
Ape Hangers wears the pop-rock badge of honor defiantly -- there's no
alterna-posturing here, just handfuls of three-minute gems that showcase
Sjostedt's deft songwriting ability and very personal lyrics.
"I don't write songs for any other reason than they just come out," Sjostedt
explains. "The good ones stick. If I come to rehearsal with a song and the
band asks to play it again, it's good. If I ask to play it again, it probably
sucks!"
With a fine second release under their belt, and having tasted success once
already, the Ape Hangers find themselves in the new position of being the best
band from Worcester who nobody knows are from Worcester -- even the boys, who
make their local debut this Friday, September 25, at Ralph's with Downchild and
Caged Heat, aren't sure how they fit in just yet.
"We get into Boston to play the Linwood once a month," says Kiah. "Even though
we're from here, Boston's a place where we [seem to] be making it happen
again."
"We want to do it again and have fun," continues Kiah. "It's a fun thing to be
in a band and travel around and see yourself in the newspaper . . .
being signed means not having anything to worry about."
"We didn't rocket to super-stardom," elaborates Sjostedt. "But, we still like
each other, which is more than most bands can say that are still together and
successful."
Local Buzz
Congrats are in order for L.B. Worm, the mayor of
Wormtown, who put on a hugely successful two-day show at Ralph's. Most of
yesteryear's hipsters made it, some for both nights. Also a deep bow to Ivan
Lipton, who offered up 75 newly rediscovered Wormtown 78 albums for
a lousy five bucks! It's actually sought after world-wide by punk collectors,
so he could have made a lot more money. But, in the true spirit of Wormtown,
Lipton figured he'd give everyone a chance to own an invaluable piece of the
past.
It was fascinating to witness the Wormtown alum, because many were able to move
on to bigger things. The make-believe city really was able to make something
from nothing, while Worcester proper continues to make nothing of something.
Maybe we should reconsider which moniker is more derogatory.
Snakes and Ladders are currently on sabbatical for an unspecified
duration due to guitarist Steve Blake injury -- he damaged the nerves in his
left hand. Boy's Attic and Chin Strap are two local acts whose
upcoming CD releases are affected by the Omnet-Mezzoman struggle. The East
Coast Audio Enterprises compilation CD is due out October 11, with tracks from
Woodgrain Theory, Pathetics, Downchild, Paco and Seven Hill
Psychos, to name a few. The Pathetics, meanwhile, report that while the
going is slow and tedious, they're halfway home on completing their debut CD.