The laws of pop music are beginning to resemble the laws of reproduction. Thousands of spermatozoa swim desperately to an egg to fulfill their destiny, but only one will get in. This kind of evolutionary pattern has ruined a number of rock ’n’ rollers: Alex Chilton, Phil Ochs, Johnny Thunders. Dreaming of the glory of playing big stages with thousands of fans supporting their music, they find themselves washed up on the rocky shore of pop music eventuality. Dreams dashed by A&R men with MBAs, fickle audiences or simply tough luck, some of these guys may go on to be the greatest wedding musicians you have ever heard, eating barbecue and fielding requests for “Mustang Sally.”
But Nashville-based rock band Blue Merle is feeling resilient. And right now they are probably as close to the prize as they can be without drooling on it. They are signed to a major label, aligned with a great management organization, and getting the kind of radio play that most bands will only dream of. They have opened for Badly Drawn Boy and Jem and played Bonnaroo and Farm Aid. They are young, but they give off a sort of humble optimism, two qualities that don’t always co-exist easily. Their first record, Burning in the Sun, is due out in February, and right now they are holed up in a beautiful house in Ivy, courtesy of Red Light Management, rehearsing and writing. The refrigerator is full of beer, Coke and Gatorade. Guitars are lined up around the practice area. An upright bass stands in the corner. All of the members of the band seem excited about what is coming next. They are playing two more Wednesday nights to round out their three-week “residency” at Starr Hill, January 26 and February 2, with a break to play the Sundance Film Festival in Utah.
The band is using the time to get fine-tuned for a winter stint on the road, first as openers for Donavon Frankenreiter and Graham Colton Band, and then to support their debut.
The four musicians got together in Nashville in October 2001. Guitarist and songwriter Lucas Reynolds moved there from Vermont to try to be a utility player, but when he hooked up with bassist Jason Oettel, he knew that they were on to something bigger. “When I met Jason, I remember calling home and talking to my folks, which I always do on special occasions,” Reynolds says. They were soon joined by Reynolds’ former bandmate Beau Stapleton on mandolin and William Ellis on drums. The members of Blue Merle are in their mid 20s to early 30s and, except for Oettel, they have been playing music since they were kids. While they began their current band as an acoustic group, they felt their best approach would be to focus on great songs, good musicianship and raw energy. Almost immediately, they were asked to record by a Sony studio engineer and approached by four or five A&R guys, the talent scouts in the music business, and several publishers who were after the rights to their tunes.
They were patient, though, and decided not sign the first offer that crossed the table. There were a couple of lean years when the band was booking and promoting themselves. When Def Jam/Island came calling in the summer of 2003, the band got the feeling that they would be able to do things on their own terms. They describe the label deal as “a sigh of relief.” At the same time, Ivy-based Red Light, Coran Capshaw’s management group that also handles Dave Matthews Band, Trey Anastasio and Camper Van Beethoven, among others, offered the band a management deal. Red Light’s Chris Tetzeli had been looking at them for almost two years, and his offer came right on time. Reynolds says that the band knew about Red Light, but Tetzeli really sold them by riding around Nashville in Reynolds’ old clunker listening to demos that the group had been working up. Reynolds describes Tetz as “bulletproof”, and they got the sense that things were really possible.
Red Light offered Blue Merle DMB’s Haunted Hollow Studio for recording, but they decided instead on Crystalphonic, a brand new state of the art studio in the Monticello Dairy Building on Preston Avenue. In December 2003, the band began recording with British producer Stephen Harris, whose resumé includes U2, Dave Matthews, Ben Kweller and metal mongers Fear Factory. Band members said that they wanted to work with a producer who was coming up, and they say with a straight face that Harris is “a sound dude.” They recorded on and off for the next six months, paying real attention to the sound of the entire band. The musicians were open to string parts, and Harris knew a good arranger. The record was then sent to legendary Abbey Road Studios in London where strings were added to a number of songs (they are featured prominently on the CD).
The band gets more than a few comparisons to Coldplay, owing both to Reynolds’ vocal style and pop leanings. While they certainly sound like Coldplay at times, the band comes close to DMB (listen to “If I Could” with its electric violin solo), recent David Gray and even U2 (on the Merle’s song “Lucky to Know You”).
I asked the band how much of their sound on the record came from the producer. They agreed that Harris’ input was huge, but they also state unapologetically that their sound is their own, and that bands coming up at the same time can share influences. Blue Merle may benefit from that sound getting them play on the radio, which still seems crucial to breaking a band into the big time. Their first single, “Burning in the Sun,” is currently at No. 18 on the AAA radio chart and is expected to crack the Top 10. Stapleton says, “Radio picked up on the song on their own. We are a band that wants to make great records, play great live shows, and not rely so much on radio play. But, because two stations in Baltimore were playing the song, we were able to sell out our first show in town.” Band members also predict that five records from now it’s very likely no one will hear similarities between Blue Merle and Coldplay.
The band’s show at Starr Hill last Wednesday night brought their music into a lot clearer focus for me. The strings augmented Reynolds’ songs really nicely. And it became clear how the Abbey Road arrangements sprang from the bass and violin parts that the band was already playing. Ellis’ drumming is great. Reynolds has a charismatic stage presence, and he wins you over when he flirts with the girls in the front row. Judging from the one show, I think the band will have to be very deliberate with their sound, turning their acoustic instruments into a big pop sound. On the whole, I’d say the band has the best of both worlds: a radio-friendly CD and an interesting and strong live show.
Many of the songs on Burning in the Sun grew on me with repeated listening. It is now up to the band to continue writing good tunes. After talking with Reynolds and his bandmates, I’d say they are raring to go. “We make a conscious effort to recognize our influences and build on them,” he says. “We go through a song 20 different ways until it is special. We are just going to push the hell out of it and find out what that next sound is. We are working our asses off. We know that there is a lot of luck involved and we are really grateful to be where we are.”
I asked the band if, given all the support from the various Capshaw enterprises (Starr Hill Music Hall is his, too) and from their record label, they felt like a band being set up to “make it,” but they dispute that they are playing the industry game. “Definitely not,” Stapleton says. “Some industry types wanted us to get rid of the upright bass and mandolin. They wanted to make us into a Counting Crows type of thing. But we got good advice and we didn’t sign the first deal that came our way.”
Oettel says that one Nashville exec wanted to turn them into “Nickel Creek with balls.” But it was Island’s hands-off approach that convinced the band to go with the label.
The band seems to love their hometown Nashville music scene: the songwriting and the picking parties. They like that people get together there and share musical experiences, and the fact that people are real about their jobs. They take weekends off and hang out with their families. It’s a very healthy scene. But they also recognize that Nashville comes with a flip side. “Keith Urban cut us off the other day in his brand new black Hummer,” Reynolds says. “He was on his cell phone.”
Being the record nerd that I am, I asked them the usual:
Your influences?
Reynolds: Sting and Paul Simon. My parents had all The Police records. I’m sure it shows up in my songwriting.
Stapleton: Neil Young and Sonic Youth. When I was first drawn into the mandolin it was Americana and Appalachian old-time music.
Ellis: The music of Miles Davis in the 1960s and ’70s. Tony Williams and Jack DeJohnette. And now Vinnie Colaiuta and Stewart Copeland.
Oettel: Hendrix and The Beatles. When I got to college I was studying jazz, so Miles Davis and then classical and Edgar Meyer.
Your recent faves?
Reynolds: Ray LaMontagne, Trouble. That’s a really good record.
Stapleton: I bought my cousin my three favorites for Christmas—Patty Griffin, Impossible Dream. Wilco, A Ghost is Born. And the new Old Crow Medicine Show.
Oettel: Gillian Welch, Soul Journey and Rufus Wainwright, Poses.
Ellis: I liked Herbie Hancock’s Future to Future.
Guilty pleasures?
Our road manager just bought The Definitive Lionel Richie, and we’re wearing that out. Whenever “Easy Like Sunday Morning” comes on, we are all singing.
Memorable gigs?
The Ryman Theater in Nashville. That was a life goal. Hank Williams, Sr. played there and that’s where Johnny Cash kicked out the lights. We played there with Train. And Farm Aid was a goal that came five years early. And Bonnaroo on a hot Saturday afternoon right before the rains came.