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'We jiggled with sounds' Old 97's: Fighting the image
July 14, 1999
By Donna Freydkin (CNN) -- Take four photogenic Lone Star state guys who have a hankering for downhearted, crackling ditties about busted romances and broken hearts. Throw in an initial touch of Texas twang and a penchant for Krispy Kreme Doughnuts, and you might think we were dealing with the Dixie Chaps. But these aren't the brothers of the Dixie Chicks. Meet the Old 97's, a Dallas outfit that's been working to shrug off an alternative-country tag since its inception six years ago. Starting with 1994's "Hitchhike to Rhome," which became a favorite of the alternative-country movement, and culminating with this year's acclaimed "Fight Songs," the band has gotten progressively less twangy and more power-pop. The transition is intentional, says lead singer Rhett Miller, a conscious effort to avoid being branded as another banjo-toting country band.
It worked. The Village Voice's Patrick Carr described "Fight Songs" as full of "Melodies, harmonies, ironies, insights, variety, and beats you can dance to." Even Frank Black, former lead of the now-disbanded Pixies and a pillar of the industrial-rock scene, has given the album a thumbs-up. And thanks to Tuesday's performance on "The Tonight Show," the more mainstream audience is getting a taste of the Old 97's, too. It seems like a dream-come-true for a hungry group that's spent the better part of the last three years traversing the country in a dusty white Dodge van -- bought for $2400 from a nursing home -- and playing dingy venues. "It would be great to make some dough, retire to an island," says Miller. "OK, not really. I'd like to just make four or five more albums, rake in a million bucks, and then do something worthwhile with our lives." He's only half-kidding. As he, guitarist Ken Bethea, bassist Murry Hammond and drummer Philip Peeples loll around their plush tour bus, trying to catch a glimpse of Homer and Bart Simpson amid the endless static of the on-board television set, they're open about the rigors of the road. And how the isolation and lack of privacy influenced the bleak lyrics of "Fight Songs," especially "Lonely Holiday." "The songs are depressing, but they sound happy. That's the whole trick," says Miller. "This record is more a function of being on the road for basically two years, never having any downtime or privacy. Any semblance of a normal life. So you end up writing these disjointed, disconnected songs."
Country timeOld 97's got a start playing at Chumley's, a coffee house in Dallas. Initially, the band was aiming for a sound that blended Lyle Lovett, Chris Isaak and Elvis Costello, and toyed with a range of influences -- everyone from Gram Parsons to the Kinks. It ended up being folded into Dallas' thriving alternative-country scene, which has included the Sutcliffes and the Lone Star Trio. But to hear Miller tell it, his band's relationship with country music was more a marriage of convenience than a match made in heaven. "The country scene latched on to us, and we latched on it. We made friends with it -- it cared about us," says Miller. "That's how we hooked up with Bloodshot Records in Chicago. The whole alt-country scene absorbed us into it." The band managed to release "Hitchhike to Rhome" and 1995's "Wreck Your Life," the latter on Chicago's Bloodshot Records. And the quartet burned a lot of rubber touring the country before attracting the attention of the major labels, thanks to a breakthrough performance at the South by Southwest music conference in 1996. When the big leagues beckoned, the band signed with Elektra Records. It released 1997's "Too Far to Care" and waited for fame to hit. Old 97's even played Lollapalooza in 1997, but the hoped-for slam-dunk didn't happen. The album sold some 26,000 copies and the band returned to the studio, working in Daniel Lanois' New Orleans facility and opting for a sound that was more restrained, prettier and bouncier. Miller even left Dallas and relocated to Los Angeles (for a girl). Sticker shockFast forward to 1999's "Fight Songs," an album that transposes desolate lyrics against bouncy, pretty melodies. Take the opening song "Jagged," with its refrain: "I would give anything, not to feel so jagged ... I couldn't drink enough, to make this make sense." That pretty much sums up the mood of "Fight Songs." Still, the album's rich pop overtones have alienated some of the core fans who helped propel Old 97's to cult status on the alternative-country scene, often dubbed "No Depression" after the Uncle Tupelo album. Speaking of Uncle Tupelo, country sweetheart Wilco -- made up of Uncle Tupelo members minus Jay Farrar -- was bashed for turning its back on its country roots and releasing its own pop gem, "Summerteeth." How have fans reacted to Old 97's not-so-subtle shift to discontented rock? "It's funny, because if Tom Petty or R.E.M. came out today, they'd be alt-country," says Miller. "If you'd been buying our records as they came out," says Bethea, "(you'd find) there's been a contingent of fans that have hated each album. We've just made four different records that sound different in terms of production. But everything else is the same. Rhett writes songs the way he writes songs, and I play guitar the way I play guitar. Within that format, we jiggled with sounds." That jiggling is apparent in the first single, "Murder (Or a Heart Attack)," getting heavy airplay on modern-rock radio. The next single is to be be the coming-of-age anthem "Nineteen." "Ultimately we knew coming out of the studio that 'Murder' was our choice for the single," says Bethea. "You take 'Lonely Holiday' -- it's a better song, but it's got the whole country thing going on. And this is 1999 and we're already fighting this image of being a country band. It's one hurdle you don't want to deal with on your first song out." 'Anti-intelligent'Next, Miller wants fame, fortune, a million bucks in a Swiss bank account and a slew of naked starlets in his hotel room. As if. "We're way more bookish and nerdy and boring than our contemporaries," says Miller. "And sometimes I wonder if that holds us back, if we're disappointing the rock gods." Not likely. Since its April release, "Fight Songs" already has sold more copies in three months than its predecessor. But Miller and Bethea do acknowledge that jetting from town to town takes its toll. Quickly. "You begin with this creative endeavor, but by the time you go on tour, it's not creative anymore," says Bethea. "You're just going through the motions. You get it done, and it's not boring, but it's not creative. It's like you're a court jester or a troubadour, and then you sound like a whiny baby. But that's the reality. "The problem with touring is that it's anti-intelligent," he says. "It's for the people like Axl Rose. It's for the 'I want to sleep with any girl and drink all night' lifestyle. But those aren't the lives any of us lead. So you wind up not having anything left to say. You feel like an idiot." And if those are the frustrations that fed "Fight Songs," Old 97's should stay verbose for quite some time to come. RELATED STORIES: Wilco hopes to ride pop to the top RELATED SITES: Old 97's on Elektra Records
MORE MUSIC NEWS: Mick doesn't want world to know what he makes
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