The Other Press ;

exakis lays past to rest and finds new family

evin Sallows
Everclear frontman Art Alexakis
in the Bulldog Cafe on a gray Fri-
afternoon, waiting for my arrival.
en minutes late and unsure of what
pect from him. In the Everclear bio,
scribes himself as “an angry per-
ith a tendency towards violence”
writes lyrics like “You smartass
ge fuck/ act like you think you’re
(from Loser Makes*Godd).
What I find is a somewhat subdued
kakis sipping on a non-alcoholic
erage and talking quietly with a
tol label rep. Though tired from the
sous night’s show and only 3 or 4
s of sleep, he is surprisingly polite
well-spoken.

Art wasn’t always as well-adjusted
e seems now. The anger and frus-
ion that is evident throughout
rclear’s debut album, World of
se, stems from a troubled adoles-
e that included his parents’ divorce
his brother’s death from a drug
dose. These and Alexakis’ own
ent into a self-destructive lifestyle
ed by drugs and alcohol made for
e hard years.

“I’m pretty open about my past.
it was what I was best at in my early
nties and teens, that was my thing.

  
   
   
  
   
 
  
    

    
 
   

ee

Art Alexakis of Everclear

Drugs. That’s all stuff that I’ve been
through that I’m not ashamed about. It
gives mea lot of grist for the mill.”” The
result is an angry, and at times bitter,
album.

Throughout the _ interview,
Alexakis repeatedly returns to the sub-
ject of the new album, an album that he
is clearly excited about.

“World of Noise was kind of
mono... monochromatic and it was sup-
posed to be. It was supposed to be ‘pull
it out of the gut and throw it out’. This
new record has more colours, more vi-
sion. There’s more hope on this record.”

There’s also a new drummer on the
forthcoming album. Alexakis explains
the personnel change.

“Didn’t get along with him [former
drummer, Scott Cuthbert]. He’s a good
drummer but not very consistent. When
you hear the new record, you'll know.
The new guy [drummer Greg Eklund]
is much more groove-oriented, consist-
ent, talented. We’re like family. I’ve
never seen a band get along as well as
we do.”

That night (Feb. 3rd), within the
intimate confines of the Starfish Room,
it’s clear that he isn’t just hyping.
Eklund is solid and aggressive. He’s the
kind of drummer you find yourself
watching as much as the
frontman. On World... the riffs
are big and loose, exciting but
raw. The new Everclear packs a
lot more punch with Eklund sew-
ing up any holes in the grooves,
giving the band a cohesiveness
they formerly lacked.

Alexakis is shelling peanuts,
oblivious to the constant murmur
of music and conversation
around us in the Bulldog. We talk
about his relationship with Capi-
tol (“Capitol believed in me. I
have total creative control’), his
influences (“hard rock, the
Beatles, Stones, Bill Munroe,
punk rock, Appalachian music”),
and laying the past to rest.

“Tl always wanted a real normal life.
The white picket fence, the whole 9
yards. I just don’t fit into it... This is
what I’m supposed to do.”

It’s clear that Alexakis has come
to terms with a lot of things in his life.
When I mention that I find a line in Sick
and Tired (“I blame my family/ their
damage is living in me”) particularly
provoking, he really gets rolling.

“Once you figure it out, that your
parents kind of fucked you up, what you
need to do... is to confront them about
it and then let it go. I’ve got a sister
who won’t let things go and it’s ruined
her. My mom raised me the best she
could... she just instilled a lot of fears
and weaknesses in me that I wouldn’t
do to my child. My mom tried to limit
me. I think parents do that because they
don’t want their children to fail, so if
they shoot low they won’t be disap-
pointed.”

In Loser Makes Good, he is bitter
but defiant. “I won’t give in, I’m not
like that, no I won’t give in to you.”

The process has been a long one
but Alexakis has overcome much of his
dysfunctional past. When I ask what
he’s going to do for material when he’s
used up all his anger, his “grist for the
mill”, he replies very'calmly, very mat-
ter-of-factly.

“I’m pretty content right now... I
still write songs with anguish. I’m a
normal human being. I get angry some-
times, I vent that. Sometimes I get, like,
wistful, I do that.”

Everclear’s set at the Starfish that
night is anything but wistful. Although
they’ re playing to a somewhat lackluster
crowd, they put out. Eklund is raging,
and between songs, Alexakis and bass-
ist Craig Montoya talk at the crowd
before launching back into tunes that
include a supercharged version of Tom
Petty’s American Girl.

Towards the end of the set, they
are careening through an old Iggy Pop
song, No Fun, that includes a guest vo-
cal by their roadmanager/roadie, who

 

Alexakis introduces as “the youngest
man in America” (also the sharpest
dressed roadie I’ ve ever seen). Alexakis
and Montoya retreat to the drum riser
to join Eklund near the end of the tune
and, for a brief moment, I catch a
glimpse of the band the way Alexakis
described them: As a family.

15

Perhaps, in life, we have two fami-
lies. One we are born into and take as it
comes. The other we find, each in our
own way, as we travel through the maze
of life. And, perhaps, it is only after we
find our second family that we can over-
come the fears and weaknesses, real or
perceived, that we learned from the first.

Art Alexakis appears to have found
such a family. Its name is Everclear.

 

Everclear
World of Noise
Cassette

 

Capitol
Raw pop-punk with catchy riffs
and intense, often angry, lyrics. I hate
having to label music but this is
ly - sounds like

   

punk “sound”.

Everclear’s strength is in writing.
The production quality on this album
is rough, sometimes just plain bad, but
a handful of excellent songs shine
through.

Vocalist/Guitarist Art Alexakis

pushed to have World of Noise re-mas-
tered from the original basement stu-
dio recording and while the sound

 

victim must feel.

quality and the mix suffer, there is a
live energy on this album that prob-
ably would have been lost ina slickly
produced re-recording.

His voice in the more subdued
sections is reminiscent of Kurt
Cobain, but he doesn’t have the same
strength when he’s raging. Unfortu-
nately, as is often the case with gui-
tar-based rock, the vocals are the first
thing to get lost in the mix.

Lyrically, World... is a pretty
black album full of rage, bitterness,
energy and, most importantly, real
emotion. Alexakis’ lyrics are mostly
personal, although he touches on
abortion (Pennsylvania) and AIDS
(Invisible).

The driving, bulldozer riff on Jn-
visible is particularly effective in mir-
roring the lyrical content of the song.
The music captures the rage, frustra-_
tion, pain and confusion that an AIDS

- The garagey, balls-out vibe of
World... is what finally hooked me.
These tunes bring me back to the days
of my youth. Carefree summers spent
skateboarding around my hometown,
going to local punk-rock shows or just
hanging. A great, high-energy release
for troubled youth, those who love to
mosh, or those who just like their rock
simple, raw and melodic.

- Kevin Sallows

 

 

  

11975. The year before the Sex Pis-
ls and the Ramones became punk
k, John Armstrong and his band
lere playing in White Rock at a
Duse wrecking party: trucks driv-
ig into the sides, walls crashing
bwn, and party-goers ripping out fix-
es originally destined for the own-
*s demo sale. The next day, the
MP arrived at John’s basement
ite. Mistaken for the organizer of
le party, he was arrested and spent
e next six hours explaining his way
bt of jail.
Twenty years later, in the Vancou-
r Press Club, John Armstrong sits
ith his legs abruptly crossed, sa-
buring an English cider, the choice
day for this Vancouver Sun enter-
finment writer. A large, ruddy face,
d black hair swept up into a quasi-
Kabilly ‘doo, he resembles more
Elvis impersonator than a guy with
earring and a good day job. To-
y, his wardrobe requisition consists
one Rocker leather jacket, scuffed
arade boots from some surplus
ack, and a pair of obliging, yet

ressed blue jeans. This is John

mstrong from the Pacific Press Pal-

Punk to Prose

ace.

As the Granville traffic grumbles by
outside, John explains his beginnings
as a punk rocker: “I was in Grade
Eleven at Princess Margaret Senior Sec-
ondary in Surrey. I started hanging out
nearby at Art Bergmann’s place, getting
him to teach me some guitar chords.
After a while, I stopped going to school.
My parents made a deal with me: If 1
went back to school, they would buy
me a guitar and amp. I got the guitar
and amp and moved in with Art
Bergmann.” (a recent signer with Sony
Music.)

The summer of 1975, his first
band, The Shits, played a gig at the
White Rock Sea Fest. “Art Bergmann
filled in on bass”, he says, lighting a
Benson & Hedges Menthol, “with a bag
over his head because we were so aw-
ful.” In 1976, when punk broke, he
moved to Vancouver, joined bands such
as Active Dog and Los Popularos,

by D.G. Black |

formed the Modernettes, and assumed
a punk rock moniker: Buck Cherry.

By early 1986, he had enough: “I
was working at a low-rent video distri-
bution place, shipping out tittie movies
and other B, C, and D grade trash,” he
muses. “I came to work one day and
the place had a padlock on it. No more
job. I had married the bass player in
my current band, had car payments on
an old Valiant, and decided I didn’t want
to keep playing music in bars.”

So, he contacted a friend at the
Georgia Straight, got assigned to cover
Vincent Price at a film promotion, and
borrowed his father’s WW2 typewriter
to turn in his first piece. “When they
liked it and I got paid,” he says, “I won-
dered where this had been all my life.
This was the easiest money I had ever
made.”

At the beginning of Expo ’86, af-

ter contacting a friend at the Vancou-
ver Sun, he got an interview for the Sun
Summer program, an arrangement for

replacing vacationing staf’. A summer

   
  
  
 
  
 
 
  
  
  
  
  
  
 

position turned into a full-time
job and John has been at
the Sun ever since.
He thinks
about writing a *
book of his days
spent playing mu-
Sic, “there are

some really
great sto-
ries,” he

says, and occa-
sionally writes
short fiction, mostly
for himself.

He does admit his job as
an entertainment reporter isn’t
difficult. “My editor calls it ’in-
side work, no heavy lifting’. I
basically just learned to write around
the picture.” (around newspaper im-

ages.) The worst stress these days?
“Having to write a piece in fifteen min-
utes when they’re holding the presses
for me,” he confesses.

Lately, John and his new partner
Linda have been renovating their East
Vancouver house. When it’s finished,
and if there’s a party, he’d rather the
house be left standing this time.

D.G. Black is a DC
Print Futures
student and
olumnist
for the
OP.

Watch
next
ish for his

upcoming in-
terview with ec-
lectic rocker Art

Bergman _ (left;
graphic by Marnie
Kurylo)