Philadelphia’s folk-influenced five

Press, 7 October 1987, Page 35

Philadelphia’s folk-influenced five

The sound of The Hooters is identifiable by its traditional English cadences

By.

MARTIN BOOE

The Hooters? Judging strictly from the name, you might assume they were a country band. On the other hand, after a sampling of their music, you might think they were a group of English chaps, because many of their songs are deeply rooted in an English folk tradition resplendent with mandolins and an odd-sounding reed Instrument known as the melodica, or “hooter.” But the Hooters are neither country nor English; they are a group of five earnest musicians from Philadelphia who enjoyed such a devoted home-town following that it took them a couple of years before they even bothered pursuing a deal with a big record label. The group is at present in the home stretch of a tour as the opening act for the rocker, Bryan Adams, a gig they embarked on while still in the middle of recording "One Way Home,” their second album for Columbia Records.

“It was kind of tense getting out on this tour because we were still recording up till the day we left,” said a slightly weary but nonetheless upbeat Rob Hyman, the group’s keyboardist, in an interview in his record company’s publicity office. “We knew it was a good tour, and that’s why we did it. But it also meant many sleepless nights working on the album, which wasn’t even out for about a month after the tour started. It was out of the frying pan, into the fire.

“So we haven’t had a chance to work up a lot of the new material. But a lot of the new songs were getting really strong reaction before people had even heard (the record).”

The other members of the band are Andy King, bass; John Lilley, guitar; Eric Bazilian, lead guitar, and David Uosikkinen,' drums.

The Hooters first garnered national attention with their album “Nervous Night,” but it was partly the strength of an earlier, independently produced album, “Amoure,” that helped the group charge into the big league in the first place. According to Hyman, the album sold 100,000 copies in the Philadelphia area, giving the group the confidence to go for a big deal.

“I think it was just a matter of Philly being a major city that was really waiting for a band to happen,” said Hyman, whose down-to-earth congeniality makes him seem more like a member of your softball team than a rock star.

"Each year there would be a band that would maybe get a record deal, then fade away. So our thing was to just play, play, play as much as we could. “We put out records when we wanted, and it was kind of fun, like, ‘Hey, let’s put out a record.’ So we’d play a lot of gigs and save up some money and do it.

There was nobody to answer to. It was a grass roots kind of thing.”

The Hooters’ music is often readily identifiable for the English folk cadences that, as Hyman justifiably says, “go straight to your feet and get your body moving before your mind even has a chance to react.” Such is the case with the new album’s first single, “Johnny B," an enigmatic ditty about a guy who is strongly under the influence of something, whether it be a woman or a drug or something else.

Musically similar is the song

"Satellite,” a deft parody of televangelism” patterned after a children’s nursery rhyme, "Hush little baby, don’t cry like that/ God’s gonna buy you a Cadillac .. .And if you still can’t see the light/God’s gonna buy you a satellite.” Although the song may seem levelled directly at the ongoing perils of Jim and Tammy Bakker, Hyman said the timing was coincidental. "We started that song last September ... long before the Jim and Tammy Bakker scandal broke.”

On other songs, however, the

Hooters draw from a wide variety of influences, from Jamaican ska to progressive rock. “The main thing is it is a rock ’n’ roll band. It is not like we are trying to have an acoustic revival. We grew up playing rock ’n’ roll at its heart, just five guys sweating on stage. But then we get into the studio and say, ‘What can we do to fix this up?” For the new album I bought an accordion and started learning to play it We found the accordion and the mandolin make a great combination.” The band discovered what has

become its signature instrument almost by accident. Hyman speaks of the melodica, which he likens to a “harmonica with keys," as if it were a stray cat that wandered into his house.

“We’ve been using it for so long we hardly pay any attention to it but people are still stunned by it. A friend dropped it by several years ago when we were putting the band together and we sort of adopted it It became our mascot”

(c) 1987, Martin Booe. Distributed by Los Angeles Times Syndicate.

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