Indi visible

Crumb put the power back in pop; plus Sam Black Church celebrate their tenth

by John O'Neill

Indie-pop is a low-fi world of do-it-yourself and, when possible, do it for cheap. After following an approximation of that credo with their second album, Romance Is a Slowdance (Quest/Warner), San Francisco's Crumb returned to the studio to toss 200 grand against the wall to see what would stick in our ears. Enlisting a producer whose credits include a who's who of bubblegum-metal bands (Winger, Ratt, Warrant, and Twisted Sister), the boys discovered the giddy joys of multilayered guitar and vocal tracking, studio musicians, and punk-rock violin solos. It's a sound that is big, brash, and ready for prime time. And, as far as the band were concerned, if the suits at the label were willing to spring for all the extras, you just needed a realistic view of the game board before you made the big move.

"You're gonna owe money to a record label anyway, and you gotta work to make it back," says Crumb guitarist Mark Weinberg of the band's decision to blow their corporate wad in-house. "If you're going to sell 100,000 records, you want to have the type of record that can go beyond that. If it's not good enough for radio, then why do it? If you do keep your studio cost low, you'll just end up owing the label money in some other way."

The result of Crumb's studio spree, seconds>minutes>hours (Red Ant), should make the label big shots very happy, and quite possibly, a shitload of money. Kicking off with the pop-bash of "Tonight," the album blows out of the speakers like a burst of aural sunshine that seems to belong exclusively to West Coast bands, and Chris Stamey. The first to tie together the energy and passion of emo-core with the sentimentality and hooks of seventies and eighties power-pop, Crumb deliver songs that, while on one hand vaguely familiar, are smarter and more spirited than any of their contemporaries to whom you may want to draw comparison. The title, seconds>minutes>hours, could also be applied metaphorically in relation to the amount of time it should take for the uninitiated listener to soak in Crumb's wonderful sound, before jumping on the nearest soapbox to proclaim them Kings of the New Pop Order. It's an album that would fit very nicely in a collection alongside the Beach Boys and Jawbox. Punchy and tough, melodic and beautiful, seconds>minutes>hours stands as one of this year's top ten releases, as well as providing direction for the future of pop music.

Currently on a national tour with Far, Crumb (rounded out by singer Rob Cronholm, and a new rhythm section of bassist Jim Bowsner and drummer Mike Dugan) now have to answer the challenge of proving they are more than just a studio band.

"Live we're a little more stripped back. Anything that sounds that produced will be," explains Weinberg, who sounds like he's answered the obvious question one-too-many times. "It's more energy driven. When we play live we don't come across as a studio band. It's different, but it's a good thing."

Having already played the side stage at Lollapalooza and scoring a minor radio hit with "Shoegazer" from their second album, Crumb are currently touring the DIY world of all-ages venues (they hit the Espresso Bar with Far this Sunday), where Weinberg reports they're having a blast, selling lots of albums, and winning fans over a handful at a time. Up at 9 a.m. to conduct band-related obligations (a very anti-rock-and-roll schedule), Crumb treat the band as a job. They know it's a business, and they know they left town with a fairly hefty IOU note on the desk of Red Ant. Most important, they realize it's a pretty good way to make a living.

"I'm not ashamed to make lots of money, but I have no clue what a rock star is," Weinberg relates. "But we're making money to do what we want to do, like flying our friends in to be on our album. We want to please people and please the label, because we want to do this as long as we can. If that means being a rock star, by golly I'll do it!"

Back in Black

What do a band do to celebrate both the release of their new album and their tenth anniversary? If you're Sam Black Church you rent the biggest room possible, invite all your friends, and put on an ass-stomping show. They'll be taking the Palladium hostage this Saturday as a victory party for their long-awaited fifth album, The Black Comedy (Wonderdrug). It's been a long time coming for Boston's hardcore/metal heavyweights, who've spent too much time under wraps with their protracted lawsuit with Taang! Records.

"The delay was due to a lot of things," says a diplomatic J.R. Roach. "We never stopped rehearsing or writing. Wonderdrug thought [the CD] might actually be too long, but it all went together for us because it was from that period."

With 17 tracks clocking in at just shy of an hour, The Black Comedy finds SBC back in form as the meaty, tooth-filled outfit that has become a perennial live favorite throughout the region. It's also a reaffirmation for the band, who still find themselves at the top of the metal heap.

With the new album Sam Black have a heavy-hitting document that alternates between hardcore metal thrashing and lightning-fast punk rock. With lyrics that cover serious topics like class struggle, the content of the evening news, and staying true to one's beliefs, Comedy also offers up a slew of tongue-in-cheek numbers that range from an ode to a bigot cop named Elwood to Rick James's personal woes. It's also a well-polished affair that may help get SBC the national following they've sought in the past decade.

"It sounds strange, but we always said from the beginning that it would take 10 years for people to figure out what we're doing," says Roach of the time the band have spent plugging away in the trenches. "But, Motörhead's been together for 15 years."

"It's been a positive in that we've got to do things we never would have, like tour the country. If you told me when I was 18 years old that I'd tour the US with Fear, I'd have shit and fell back into it!"