Time for Serious Action

Caged Heat rage on cheap rock and free booze

by John O'Neill

Jill Kurtz had a pretty good idea her band Caged Heat were on the upswing when, out of the sky and through a word-of-mouth buzz, they were approached for a sponsorship by none other than the fine folk who distill and distribute Jim Beam. After checking out the band's high-energy live show, the Beam people offered to provide promotional posters, sponsor a show at the Middle East -- complete with radio support -- give the band cash and free cases of liquor (which also includes carte blanche drinks with any product the company distributes). Not wanting to look a gift horse in the mouth, no matter how un-punk the ethic or how fuzzy the tongue the next morning, the band signed on, and, according to Kurtz, "I got so smashed and goofy! It was like, `Oh, I can't do that at every show.'

"It's fine and dandy to be against endorsements, but when you're playing music you need to have money or you can't do it. My harmonica breaks every two days. If we weren't making money we wouldn't have a van, then we couldn't be touring, then we couldn't get a gig, then we couldn't afford guitar strings. [Endorsements] are terrible till someone offers you one, then of course you'll take it. I'll do whatever I can to keep playing. Plus, I happen to love Peachtree [Schnapps, one of the gratis bevs]. Woo Woos are good!"

Kurtz has not always been so quick to jump at deals. Since forming almost two years ago, Caged Heat (whose name is taken from Russ Meyer's classic women-in-prison flick) were courted almost immediately by record labels. Originally a three-piece who were inspired by Kurtz's blues-roots leanings, the group "wore prison costumes and a policeman's uniform. We had a deal on the table, but it didn't work out. I wanted to play all the time, and the [other two] wanted the band to be part time."

Walking away from three potential album deals for pragmatic reasons (the band weren't ready or serious enough, or the deal didn't make financial sense), Kurtz dumped the line-up and decided to start fresh. Drummer Scott Hanson and bassist Chris Ando had seen the earlier incarnation, and Ando pleaded their case as the replacement rhythm section by sending Kurtz a demo tape.

"It was totally hardcore," laughs Kurtz, who spent a good hunk of her childhood in New York hooked on the vibe of blues giants like Little Walter, Freddie King, and Robert Johnson. "I knew the band would go in a different direction, but I was really excited. The guys were total metalheads! They like the Doors and Dio and some classic rock, and I liked blues and punk, disco, Madonna, and show tunes. Somehow it turned out to be totally cool."

After adding a fourth member, guitarist Kyle Keenan, the new Caged Heat dropped the roots flavor (not to mention the prison-outfit shtick) and quickly mutated into a balls-out rock outfit that somehow managed to graft both punk and blues without sounding contrived. Snarling and melodic, tough and fluid, Caged Heat wrapped it all together with a full-speed-ahead work ethic and began a year and a half rampage between Portland and NYC. They also caught the ear of New York's mostly reggae label, Ruff Stuff Records (home to Grammy-winner Glenn Washington and Rising Lion and England's Tiger Lilies), which produced the band's debut disc. Kurtz's patience had finally paid off.

"It all came together. The guy who runs the label was a Caged Heat fan, and they wanted to try the rock thing. It's basically a small label, but the big thing for us is they have national distro. I feel really good about it, and I like the sound of it. We're tighter. It definitely pays to wait."

Titled Serious Action, Caged Heat's long-awaited release is just that -- with its toothy hooks, in-the-red guitar grit, wailing harmonica, Kurtz's soul-screech vocals, shout/sing harmonies, fat-ass bass, and pounding drums. Punk Rock, roots rock, cock rock, blues rock, Detroit Rock City, Serious Action is an open love letter to all that rocks and rolls. Featuring 11 original tunes -- in which the MC5, Stooges, Stones, Kiss, Hole, and L7 can all be heard, as can the spirit of the barely-in-control reckless abandon provided by Boston homeboys the Real Kids and Del Fuegos -- Action works because it sounds exactly like the Heat's live gig does, only with a volume control. Sure, there's some serious guitar layering going on throughout most of the album, but otherwise the disc is an accurate snapshot of what Caged Heat deliver on stage, brash and passionate tunes with rough-and-tumble attitude. Best of all, the album, with the band's relentless need to play live, should establish them outside the area and move them up the ladder of Bigger Things.

"In my old band [Ashera], I thought we were doing well, playing a couple of times a month. After going out on the road it was, `I can't believe I thought I was gonna make it [by staying in Boston],'" says Kurtz before bursting into laughter. "We've toyed with moving to New York and we'd love to go to Los Angeles, but we'll see. I'm just really glad we're all on the same page. And that's really hard to find: people on the same page who want to work as hard as you do for it."