EVERCLEAR CLEAN AND SOBER

Rip It Up, Issue 224, 1 April 1996, Page 14

EVERCLEAR CLEAN AND SOBER

At the moment things are pretty hot for Mr Art Alexis. His feisty guitar pop threesome, Everclear, are enjoying the rewards of a gruelling touring schedule that has at last brought the success they’d hoped for. Unfortunately that success means more touring. At present Mr Alexis is more than hot, he’s positively burning up in the heat of the cruel Phoenix, Arizona, sun. “I’m in Phoenix, Arizona, for the beginning of our West Coast tour. The temperature here can reach up to 131 degrees around lunch-time.” Mr Alexis then gave a brief but illuminating run-down on just how hot 131 degrees was. “The heat here is miserable heat, 110 degree heat is unbearable. When the thermometer gets up to 120 degrees, animals start dying, and when it reaches 130, fires start up in the middle of nowhere, spontaneous combustion occurs.” Being a friendly sort of chap, Art asked me what I was up to. After briefly explaining the intricacies of the fine Sega game Bruian Laras Cricket (far superior to the Nintendo cricket game), Art expounded his own views on the fine old English game and crass American attitudes to sport. “When I was in England I watched a game of cricket, but it went on for days. Having stoppages for tea and lunch seemed a very gentlemanly, English thing to do. That sort of gentlemanly and delicate way of playing sport doesn’t translate very well in America. In America, it’s put the ball somewhere and kill as many people as possible to do it. That’s the American way!” To help preserve Bill Clinton’s vision of the ‘American way’, Art was playing some extra concerts. “I’m working really hard to elect Bill Clinton. I think he believes in what he’s doing, whereas Bob Dole is a scary grampa. I’m cool with Bill. I think his wife’s cool too.”

Art also thinks his own wife’s pretty rockin’. Because he’s a responsible family man, there’s

no shilly-shallying on the tour bus for him. “On the bus I’m constantly doing business. Other than playing guitar, I don’t do much else. If I had a hobby [on tour] it would have been sex, but now I’ve got a wife it’s just taking care of the books.”

Given the gruelling tour schedule Everclear endure, I wondered if perhaps Art drank a lot of coffee to keep on chugging. However, after years of chemical abuse, his body is now a temple, and the brown bubbling beverage was not going to despoil it. “I don’t drink coffee. No chemicals for me, not even sugar. After years of alcohol abuse I have a bad chemical imbalance, so now I’m kinda clean living. I miss sugar, I wish I could eat it.” Whilst Everclear’s last album, Sparkle and Fade, dealt with the themes of small towns and chemical abuse, the 'lads” next album has moved to the big smoke.

“Our next record will focus on cities. It’s the next link in the chain. It’ll be about what goes on in your head when you’re in a big city. I’ve written 20 songs for the next album, but we won’t be able to record till October.”

It was at about this point in our verbal interaction Mr Alexis was snatched from my grasp. However, in our brief verbal encounter, I discovered he’d turned down a chance to play with the (un)reformed Sex Pistols, and his favourite movie was presently the heart-warming porker picture Babe. However, the most intriguing revelation Art gave me was his dream career after the sparkle has faded with rock ’n’ roll. “I’d seriously like to be a marine biologist and work with .dolphins. I think dolphins are the most intelligent form of life on this planet. I think they’re just toying with us. I think they’ve already taken over and are just waiting for us to find out.” ;

KEV LIST

One of the first real underground shows I ever saw was at the Auckland Youth Theatre on my nineteenth birthday. Playing that night were the Cake Kitchen and an exhilarating, noise-loving trio called DRILL. Two guitars and drums meshed magically to unleash a choppy storm of feedback, melodies and rhythms, that exploded your eardrums then died all too quickly, leaving the listener in the classic position of wanting more. But very soon Drill’s way of working became obvious. They operated oh something close to Fiji time, a sys-

tem that was both charmingly unreliable and horrifically frustrating. Gigs were few and very far between, and as for recorded output? That was simply out of the question. Six years later, little has changed for Drill. A few more gigs have been notched up since that memorable night at the Youth Theatre, a threesong seven inch single surfaced on Flying Nun in 1994, and the departure last year of drummer Michael Kwok has given ax men John Pitcairn and Steven Sinkovich something to think about if Drill are to play to promote their new self-titled

album. Pitcairn is matter-of-fact on the topic of the band’s legendary (un)productiveness. John: “We’re doing it for us, we’re not particularly doing it for an audience. Half the point of the band is that we just fuck around and have a great time in the practice room.”

In a world where BB King is considered slack playing less than 300 shows a year, Drill prefer a more low-key approach, performing as often as Bob Geldof bathes. At last count, the score was 22 gigs in seven years. Steven: “A lot of the gigs, it was so fluky that

they actually occurred. For instance, we did a gig with the Chills while I was still working fulltime. I had to race from work, do a soundcheck, race back to do a bit more work, then do the gig, then go back to work. I literally ran into the Gluepot, went up on stage, put my guitar on and started playing. A lot of the gigs just seemed to be like that, and a lot of gigs we ended up having just one practice beforehand, because we couldn’t get it together.” Despite their inability to co-ordinate the most simple of tasks, Drill always appeared to land on their feet, helped by a fearsome live reputation that brought Flying Nun calling, and landed them a big name support slot or two. Even then they managed to stamp a little bit of the Drill ‘phenomenon’ on the occasion. Steven: “We did the Fall support, which was something John and I really wanted ’cause we’re big Fall fans, but it turned out to be the biggest anticlimax. I had visions of watching them from side of stage, but we had to stay in the dressing room. I tried to leave the door open, but this big scary bouncer came by three times and threatened to beat me up if I didn’t shut the door. So, I had to look through the slits in the bottom of the door to see them go on stage, so all I could say was, ‘nice boots!’, to Mark E Smith as he walked past.

In a show of solidarity, Drill organised themselves into the same room (a temporary studio set up at Auckland’s Squid Bar) midway through last year, to complete half a dozen tunes for the 18-track collection, Drill. The remaining songs came from the Nun single and countless fourtrack and eight-track recording sessions undertaken over the years. The retrospective nature of Drill, suggests it could be the end of the road. Not so, says Sinkovich. “One thing that should be pointed out about the CD is, it’s not the last gasp of Drill, even though it seems that way in the sleeve notes, it’s definitely not the end of Drill.” In the future, items on the Things H/e Might Do list include hunting down a new drummer, investigating the possibility of roping in a keyboardist, and of course...

John: “World domination.” Steven: “I didn’t know that one, but my plan ever since we first started playing is, I’d really like to tour in the States... in a really vague way." And with Drill, that’s the only way to travel.

JOHN RUSSELL