By Julie Comine
Kansan Magazine writer
They practice in garages, basements, living rooms. The feedback shrieks, the bass lines rumble through walls and windows. The neighbors endure yet another set of screeching vocals from the guys next door:
I'm the maintenance man here at Sea World
Listen Up, Lawrence. After a long lull, the bands are back.
Perhaps echoing the recent revival of the good ol' American guitar band, musicians are playing in Lawrence in greater numbers and variety than ever. The sounds range from hardcore (Brompton's Cocktail, Invisible Order, The Exploding Rodents) to country- swing (The Screaming Catfish) to psychedelic folk-punk (You Want Something?).
Then there's guitarist Todd Newman, winner of this year's Kaw Valley Songwriter's Festival; the surf-punk of Rabbit Scat; and those reggae veterans, Caribe.
"There are so many bands in town now, many of which I've never seen play," says Bill Rich, one of the grand old guys of the Lawrence music scene. Rich, 30, manages the Mortal Micronotz, books shows with two partners for Redline Productions and operates Fresh Sounds Inc., a local independent record label.
"I think that we're seeing a trend toward what's called American music - bands like R.E.M., the Replacements, the Del Fuegos, Jason and the Scorchers," he says. "For awhile there was more of the death rock, the English synth-pop."
Here's a look at a handful of Lawrence's better-known bands - in and out of the garage.
THE MORTAL MICRONOTZ: David Dale, bass; Steve Eddy, drums; John Harper, guitar; Jay Hauptli, vocals, guitar, harmonica.
'Tell me what you think," Rich says, walking into the yard. Trees tower everywhere; the nearest house is 50 yards away. "Do you think it's too loud?"
The Micronotz are loud. Very loud.
Inside the house, vocalist Jay Hauptli puts in his earplugs. Then he laughs. So, he says, you want to know whether the Micronotz think they've been successful?
Sure, the Micronotz are household names to hordes of young, thrashing garage band fans. They've made four records, and traveled across the country this summer for two months on their "Tour That Devoured Itself." They played about 40 dates in towns such as Boston, New York, Trenton, N.J., Atlanta, Chicago, Minneapolis and Green Bay, Wis.
But the Micronotz don't care much about success--at least right now. They just want to have a good time.
"Since we got back from the tour, we haven't done much of anything," Hauptli says. "We're about a half dozen songs short of recording a new album."
The new songs, Hauptli promises, will be typical of the Micronotz's rock 'n' roll sound: loud, fast tunes rarely more than two minutes long, with angry, funny and usually incoherent lyrics.
"The average student isn't gonna come to one of our shows in search of the "pick-up-the-girls scene," Hauptli says. "They're just not going to be able to do the dancing-mating ritual thing to our music."
Got any titles for these new tunes, guys?
John Harper leans in the doorway to an adjacent room and fiddles with his guitar. "Yeah," he says. "We're calling this one 'Don't Shave When You're Drunk.'"
I like to pick up the dolphin trainer girls
Get 'em drunk in the back of my van
Then steal their keys and sneak into the dolphin tank
When those dolphins jump for fish,
man, they'll get a surprise
Flick my cigarette butts in their eyes
Or maybe their appetites will be spoiled
When instead of fish I toss 'em cans of motor oil.
From "Dolphin Torture" by Patrick Lafferty, of Near Death Experience
Bill Rich is concerned. It's Saturday afternoon and the band he manages, the Mortal Micronotz, is practicing in a vacant house on the east side of town.
But the band has a serious side. They've been together longer than almost any band in town. They formed several years ago at Central Junior High School in Lawrence. The members then ranged in age from to 13 to 16 years old. Harper, 19, and bassist David Dale, 21, are the band's only remaining original members.
Although the summer tour brought the Micronotz plenty of exposure, it also brought them plenty of nights sleeping in the back of the band's black van.
"It's a lot different than going out for a week, two weeks," said Harper. "Being 1,500 miles from home, without any money, without a place to sleep."
Added drummer Steve Eddy, "That's when you start to feel like a real band. You don't get sound checks, people don't show up, you get ripped off for money. It was about as glamorous as a Dirty Harry movie."
