by Matthew Kalinowski
On this chilly San Francisco night, the fog floats in from Ocean Beach and quickly penetrates the Sunset district. The thick blanket of gloom continues unabated, leaping Mt. Sutro in a single bound, only to creep down through the Castro and overpower the ephemeral sunlight that had staked its weak claim over the Civic Center just a few hours before. And when it finally overtakes the Tenderloin, it casts a spell over the sold-out Great American Music Hall, where the Black Rebel Motorcycle Club have already begun to enchant their audience with "As Sure as the Sun," which despite its title, flatters the attendant fog with its aural imitation. Wisps of smoke sidle from one end of the stage to the other as the trio is submerged in the song's moist, swirling sound.

As the band wraps up that tune and launches into the driving "Whatever Happened to My Rock 'n Roll," the fog dissipates instantly and the crowd's meditative trance is shattered as it begins bouncing to the band's first single. Although songs like "As Sure as the Sun" and "Rifles" prove that B.R.M.C. have mastered the dark, spine-tingling nostalgia reminiscent of shoegazers like the Jesus and Mary Chain and Manic Street Preachers, others like "Rock 'n Roll" and "Love Burns" show that they've also enjoyed their fair share of Stardust-era Bowie, the Euro-psychedelia of the Stone Roses and the Madchester acid-house of the Charlatans UK. So, Black Rebel Motorcycle Club would represent merely an extension of Britpop's persistent American invasion, correct? Actually, tonight's show is a hometown one --- though drummer Nick Jago is a British ex-pat while Peter Hayes and Robert Turner (who split bass/guitar/vocal duties) were raised in the Bay Area. B.R.M.C. does not even concede to sounding European.


closermagazine

"I would say we don't sound like the typical American band that's out right now," Turner says. "We take the best of both, that's always the idea. I grew up on Nine Inch Nails and Nirvana, and I hear that as much as anything else in our sound. But early Verve stuff is great. I like old Velvet Underground too. You just pick out the best stuff from different places and eras, and try to make something even better." These multigenerational, transcontinental influences have lent a timeless feel to the eleven tracks on the band's record.

Actually, Turner and Hayes admit that their all-American childhood in the picket-fenced Contra Costa County (the last word in NorCal suburbia) shaped the Club's outsider stance to a degree. "When you walk around, and you're surrounded by people who don't really know what's going on," recalls Turner, "it makes you feel isolated, like you are in your own space."

 
Only recently did they move to Los Angeles. "We had to go, there was no option," explains Hayes, just a mite defensively. "This [the Bay Area] is still our home, but you go for a while here and then you stop at a certain point. There's not too many open doors in San Francisco when you are trying to get your records out, when you're trying to build something above the local club level."

Only recently did they move to Los Angeles. "We had to go, there was no option," explains Hayes, just a mite defensively. "This [the Bay Area] is still our home, but you go for a while here and then you stop at a certain point. There's not too many open doors in San Francisco when you are trying to get your records out, when you're trying to build something above the local club level."

But you wouldn't know it from tonight's eager crowd. Mods, rockers and punks alike have convened to see in person what the San Francisco Weekly calls "one of the few hopes for audiences that crave an artistic buzz somewhere between the light substance of indie pop and the brutality of ball-busting punk," a band that "really does live up to its rebellious name."

In a word, critics and fans agree that B.R.M.C. embodies the epitome of cool. Part of the band's allure is their ability to create lush, moist textures that preserve an organized cleanness --- a tough task for any band to accomplish, and even more so for trio so young. Despite their youth, the band has already made significant progress, including the release of their self-titled (and self-produced) debut on Virgin Records and a successful nationwide tour. The group has even already found themselves having to turn down highly lucrative promotional offers in order to preserve artistic integrity.

Hayes backs the band's decisions: "We're just starting out, so there's really no need to cram it down everyone's throat. We're still young and we've got lots of opportunities. I think the main goal is for people to see that music is capable of so much more. There can be a lot more substance."

Black Rebel Motorcycle Club feels that they can convey such substance only by retaining total artistic rule, which is why the band went with Virgin Records. Following rave reviews from the likes of Noel Gallagher and Johnny Marr, BRMC signed with the label two years ago, not because they offered the highest dollar amount, but because they promised complete creative control. No small feat, considering Virgin's core focus on high profile bling-blingers like Mariah Carey and Lenny Kravitz.

Turner's father (and BRMC's manager), Michael Been, has no doubt promoted such sagacious decisions. Been learned the ins and outs of the music biz while with The Call, a NorCal new wave act who amassed a loyal cult following during the '80s, when they recorded for several major imprints. Turner draws from his dad's history without relying on it. "I don't think he made any mistakes, I think other people made them for him," he says of Been's experiences with the commercial music machine.

"I think that's our problem too, and that's most bands' problem. When you make your music and you put it out to the music industry, there are some sacrifices that you have to make. But he just asked for what he needed and we just ask for what we need, and it's just shitty when you don't get it. You just need to survive, and if you're not careful you can have the floor slip out from under you."

However, that seems hardly a remote possibility as this point, because as Turner asserts, "We have our own lines that we make for ourselves, and we stick to our guns." Which in essence, puts the Rebel in the BRMC.
Black Rebel Motorcycle Club: Homebrewed Brit pop: The San Francisco treat
By Matthew Kalinowski
WWW.ALTARNATIVE.COM

On this chilly San Francisco night, the fog floats in from Ocean Beach and quickly penetrates the Sunset district. The thick blanket of gloom continues unabated, leaping Mt. Sutro in a single bound, only to creep down through the Castro and overpower the ephemeral sunlight that had staked its weak claim over the Civic Center just a few hours before. And when it finally overtakes the Tenderloin, it casts a spell over the sold-out Great American Music Hall, where the Black Rebel Motorcycle Club have already begun to enchant their audience with "As Sure as the Sun," which despite its title, flatters the attendant fog with its aural imitation. Wisps of smoke sidle from one end of the stage to the other as the trio is submerged in the song's moist, swirling sound.

As the band wraps up that tune and launches into the driving "Whatever Happened to My Rock 'n Roll," the fog dissipates instantly and the crowd's meditative trance is shattered as it begins bouncing to the band's first single. Although songs like "As Sure as the Sun" and "Rifles" prove that B.R.M.C. have mastered the dark, spine-tingling nostalgia reminiscent of shoegazers like the Jesus and Mary Chain and Manic Street Preachers, others like "Rock 'n Roll" and "Love Burns" show that they've also enjoyed their fair share of Stardust-era Bowie, the Euro-psychedelia of the Stone Roses and the Madchester acid-house of the Charlatans UK.

So, Black Rebel Motorcycle Club would represent merely an extension of Britpop's persistent American invasion, correct? Actually, tonight's show is a hometown one --- though drummer Nick Jago is a British ex-pat while Peter Hayes and Robert Turner (who split bass/guitar/vocal duties) were raised in the Bay Area. B.R.M.C. does not even concede to sounding European.

"I would say we don't sound like the typical American band that's out right now," Turner says. "We take the best of both, that's always the idea. I grew up on Nine Inch Nails and Nirvana, and I hear that as much as anything else in our sound. But early Verve stuff is great. I like old Velvet Underground too. You just pick out the best stuff from different places and eras, and try to make something even better." These multigenerational, transcontinental influences have lent a timeless feel to the eleven tracks on the band's record.

Actually, Turner and Hayes admit that their all-American childhood in the picket-fenced Contra Costa County (the last word in NorCal suburbia) shaped the Club's outsider stance to a degree. "When you walk around, and you're surrounded by people who don't really know what's going on," recalls Turner, "it makes you feel isolated, like you are in your own space."

Only recently did they move to Los Angeles. "We had to go, there was no option," explains Hayes, just a mite defensively. "This [the Bay Area] is still our home, but you go for a while here and then you stop at a certain point. There's not too many open doors in San Francisco when you are trying to get your records out, when you're trying to build something above the local club level."

But you wouldn't know it from tonight's eager crowd. Mods, rockers and punks alike have convened to see in person what the San Francisco Weekly calls "one of the few hopes for audiences that crave an artistic buzz somewhere between the light substance of indie pop and the brutality of ball-busting punk," a band that "really does live up to its rebellious name."

In a word, critics and fans agree that B.R.M.C. embodies the epitome of cool. Part of the band's allure is their ability to create lush, moist textures that preserve an organized cleanness --- a tough task for any band to accomplish, and even more so for trio so young. Despite their youth, the band has already made significant progress, including the release of their self-titled (and self-produced) debut on Virgin Records and a successful nationwide tour. The group has even already found themselves having to turn down highly lucrative promotional offers in order to preserve artistic integrity.

Hayes backs the band's decisions: "We're just starting out, so there's really no need to cram it down everyone's throat. We're still young and we've got lots of opportunities. I think the main goal is for people to see that music is capable of so much more. There can be a lot more substance."

Black Rebel Motorcycle Club feels that they can convey such substance only by retaining total artistic rule, which is why the band went with Virgin Records. Following rave reviews from the likes of Noel Gallagher and Johnny Marr, BRMC signed with the label two years ago, not because they offered the highest dollar amount, but because they promised complete creative control. No small feat, considering Virgin's core focus on high profile bling-blingers like Mariah Carey and Lenny Kravitz.

Turner's father (and BRMC's manager), Michael Been, has no doubt promoted such sagacious decisions. Been learned the ins and outs of the music biz while with The Call, a NorCal new wave act who amassed a loyal cult following during the '80s, when they recorded for several major imprints. Turner draws from his dad's history without relying on it. "I don't think he made any mistakes, I think other people made them for him," he says of Been's experiences with the commercial music machine.

"I think that's our problem too, and that's most bands' problem. When you make your music and you put it out to the music industry, there are some sacrifices that you have to make. But he just asked for what he needed and we just ask for what we need, and it's just shitty when you don't get it. You just need to survive, and if you're not careful you can have the floor slip out from under you."

However, that seems hardly a remote possibility as this point, because as Turner asserts, "We have our own lines that we make for ourselves, and we stick to our guns." Which in essence, puts the Rebel in the BRMC.
Black Rebel Motorcycle Club: Homebrewed Brit pop: The San Francisco treat
By Matthew Kalinowski
WWW.ALTARNATIVE.COM