Thursday, February 5, 1987
Daily Nebraskan
(
r '
7
Dave BentzOaily Nebraskan
NEW
BRASS
GUNS
SHY
BY
CHARLES
LIEURANCE
There's this story that Cameron Crowe,
renowned rock critter and author of "Fast
Times at Ridgemont High," tells about an
interview he was having with David Bowie on
the 15th floor of one building or another.
Apparently it was one of those nightmare
interviews that sometimes occurs when the
artist has just discovered the mystical plea
sures of Krishna or toured Tibet and found
that slapping a bloated yak's bladder with a
petrified herring makes the same sound as a
timpani. Crowe and Bowie were discussing
Brecht and Ziggy Stardust when Bowie insisted
he saw a body fall past the window. The
interview was downhill from that point on.
Although the interview with Lincoln's new
est band, the New Brass Guns, had potential
nightmare written all over it, somehow things
worked out. I had a compound fract ure of the
tibia and a cast up to my thigh. I was strung
out on Valium and pain pills. Three members
of the four-piece band made it over to my
apartment, and Brian Barber, the group's
drummer, called up lead singer Lori Allison
on the phone. She was suffering from one of
those flus that crafty Asians sent our way to
break U.S. morale and had just vomited.
Barber relayed my questions to her over the
phone and then gave me the answers. If he
didn't understand my Valium-induced inquir
ies, he made me yell them across the room
into the phone receiver.
Once we got past questions like "What's
your major?" and "Which one of you is the
guitarist again?" we started to make headway.
Two Saturdays ago Brian Barber, Lori Alli
son, Marty Amsler and Doug Hubner played
live for the first time as the New Brass Guns,
opening for the best new original band in
Lincoln, 13 Nightmares in the Neihardt Pub.
When they speak of that performance, Amsler
(bass) and Hubner (guitar and "big pile of
stuff) frequently use phrases like "petri
fied," "mental block," "nervous," "learning
experience" and "clumsy."
This was the first time they had played and
yet, with a solid set full of original tunes, they
proved what fellow local musician Mark
Harper has been saying for years that in
the closets, practice rooms, bathrooms, ware
houses, basements and garages of Lincoln
there is enough original and creative material
being written, recorded and played to make
this city another Athens, Ga. or Minneapolis.
Now another great band, still on the legs of
a foal, has entered the scene. Although their
show at the Pub may have suffered from stage
paralysis, the promise represented by the
music itself was evident. New Brass Guns
have written 13 versatile, inventive alterna
tive pop songs. Not a cover tune in sight for
the duration of the performance, unless you
count a romantic poem culled from a 1700s
newspaper and set to music. As with any good
original band, it's hard to tell where the New
Brass Guns are coming from musically. Guita
rist Hubner seems to have come up with a
style somewhere between U2's Edge and early
Peter Buck, with an inspired amateurism that
makes the sound entirely his own. Barber,
who used to play guitar for the Go Bats, is, to
my knowledge, Lincoln's only stand-up
drummer, beating on the rockabilly setup of
snare, cymbal and "assorted thrift-store sur
prises." Amsler's bass is the accelerator,
holding fragile song structures together.
When you're playing
original songs, no one
can tell when you screw
up anyway
Amsler
And then there's Allison, who was formerly
singer for the Go Bats and used to do a killer
version of Willie John's "Fever" while dressed
in a Girl Scout uniform and a pair of faux
pearl-handled toy six guns. In the Guns, Alli
son's gorgeous voice is put to more creative
use balanced between tenuous sentimen
tality on the slower ballads and ominous
deadpan on the band's more experimental
songs. Here is a voice capable of invoking
almost any mood with the slightest tremor in
pitch or even a change in facial expression.
The Guns, by their own admission, are
amateurs. Amsler and Hubner have spen.t the
last two years just learning how to play their
instruments and sometimes taking a month
to write one song.
"Except for Lori, none of us in the band is
doing what they normally do," Amsler said.
Barber is by nature a guitarist. He says he's
still having some trouble keeping a steady
beat and still gets blisters and cuts as he
drums.
"But because he's also a guitarist he
becomes more a part of the song, more a part
of the music, and not just the rhythm"
Hubner says. "He knows what we're doing
with the chords and stuff."
Amsler's hands still cramp up on certain
chords and sometimes he'll play a chord
when he meant to be picking. But Amsler
feels that his amateurism on guitar keeps his
guitar style fresh. He doesn't feel like he's
imitating anyone.
"When you're playing original songs, no
one can tell when you screw up anyway,"
Amsler said.
Although it's Allison's job to get the words
across to people, she feels that how it sounds
is more important than whether or not the
audience comprehends everything.
"I don't really think people listen to words
a lot. In fact, 1 know they don't. The lyrics are
more so we can feel passionate about the
song. Writing them doesn't have anything to
do with the audience understanding them,"
Allison said.
"People would probably misunderstand
the words even if they heard them," she said.
By this time the Valium had me asking
questions like "Could you tell me what the
show 'Route 66' is really about?" so I decided
to go for the big question before bodies
started raining past the window or Lori
had to vomit again.
"How would you classify your music?" I
asked, my vision starting to tunnel.
"Speed metal with a country twist."
Here's to the new Athens.
The New Brass Guns that's the ancient
cowboy word for Nebraska, by the way will
perform this Saturday night above Bucha
nan's in the Haymarket with 13 Nightmares
and Too Many Daves.
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