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)