Flashpop

Verago-go go for change

by Brett Milano

What can you say about a band who wear different flashy costumes for every show, borrow song angles from film noir plots, and play entire gigs in different musical styles just for the hell of it? What I'd say is: "I bet these folks have been to art school."

Verago-go have done all of the above, including going to art school (at least two members have: singer/guitarist Isabel Riley and singer/bassist Jen Diamond both attended Mass College of Art; drummer John Lakian was then playing in metal bands). There have always been two kinds of art-school bands: either they're hopelessly pretentious or they show a healthy disregard for rock conventions. Wire were one of the good ones; so were Talking Heads. And so are Verago-go, though at heart they're more of a pop group than either of the above. Their favored sound is a cuddlecore style that conjures good memories of Tsunami and early Scrawl.

But their debut CD, Flight 45 (Curve of the Earth), doesn't stay in one place for long. Only one track ("Stay," the one getting college airplay) is an undoctored pop song. Elsewhere there are numbers that end after a minute, change directions midway through ("Venus," which is responsible for any Throwing Muses comparisons they'll get), or dabble in surf and metal. There's an unlisted track, using the word "fuck" 15 times, that sounds like a vicious Liz Phair parody (unintentional, they say, though writer Diamond admits that Phair gets on her nerves). And closing the album proper is the last thing you'd expect from a pop group: a long jam with six minutes' worth of an honest-to-God drum solo -- the first I can remember hearing on any local disc.

They tried that out for the same reason they try most things out: because it was fun and seemed like a good idea. ("And we figure that most people are gonna turn it off anyway," Diamond offers.) The same philosophy extends to their stage costumes, which is where the art-school background comes out. I missed the "Sgt. Pepper outfits" that Riley says they wore at a recent show, but I did catch the '50s pin-up-type get-ups they sported recently at Mama Kin.

"I'm psyched about having an image," Riley says. "We're all into bright colors and sparkles. Jen's a filmmaker and I'm a painter, so that's bound to come out." She describes the two frontwomen as "polar opposites." Diamond has no formal training; Riley is classically schooled. Diamond is the intuitive one; Riley is "the obsessive, neurotic one."

Riley plays down her band experience, calling herself a "closet guitarist" who wrote songs in her dorm room for years, but both she and Diamond have at least one good reference each: Riley was in Chevy S-10 before they became Chevy Heston, and Diamond played in a late line-up of the western Massachusetts band Queer. They met Lakian at a bar ("the one where I was trying to pick up my present boyfriend," Riley offers); under prodding they admit that the first song they played together was "Smoke on the Water." Riley is the band's pop strategist, the one who recently spent a few hours picking apart the Beach Boys' Pet Sounds, and she says the tricky hops in the songs are there on purpose: "They're complex, as a way of keeping up with people's attention spans." And how does Lakian, with his metal background, adapt to this band? "It's beautiful. This is the first time I've actually been able to hear myself play."

In the past, the band have also adapted different musical personae for different gigs. They've played a few all-surf sets, and once they did lounge versions of everything in their repertoire. But with an album to promote, they'll likely play it straighter when they hit the Linwood Grill on the 17th. What they'll wear, however, remains anyone's guess.

LA PESTE ON MATADOR. It's always news when a Boston band get signed to an influential label like Matador. But a Boston band who broke up 18 years ago? La Peste, a compilation album by the late-'70s punk trio, quietly sneaked onto the Matador release sheets two months ago, and though the disc may not get the same attention as Jon Spencer or Guided by Voices, it fills a major gap in local history. La Peste were the first notable band from the late-'70s scene to break up, and they were the band who wound up releasing the least. The disc includes 28 songs (both sides of the "Better Off Dead" single, a later session with Ric Ocasek producing, and a live set from the Rat) -- which is 24 more than the band ever released in their lifetime.

Put out to benefit the family of Roger Tripp, the La Peste drummer who died in a car crash three years ago, the album sheds light on a group who are largely remembered for one song. So was there more to La Peste than "Better Off Dead?" Sure, even though it remains their best song. ("Spymaster," later covered by the Neighborhoods and Jerry's Kids, is a close second.) The live tracks capture the feel of those days -- you can practically feel the old Rat carpet sticking to your sneakers -- and the Ocasek tracks show they'd developed a good sense of melody. The band were history by 1979 (a reshuffled line-up appeared briefly); singer Peter Dayton got some local hits, and took some local flak, for putting on a suit and adopting a Bryan Ferry-ish new-wave persona.

Dayton's whereabouts have been a mystery since he left town in the mid '80s, but Matador helped us track him down in his current home of Easthampton, New York. "I'm a visual artist now, I've got a gallery in New York, and things are going really well," he reports by phone. "In fact, from a rock-and-roll standpoint, Adam Clayton bought one of my pieces, and I remember seeing U2 at the Paradise."

Although Dayton spent some time recording in Paris, he hasn't played in town for 10 years and swears he never will again. "I'm one of the few people who said it was his last show and it really was. When La Peste broke up, punk rock was dissolving, and we'd gotten to the point where we just couldn't get any better. Later on I got more into the idea of music as entertainment." Going to Paris was his last stab at a music career, but he released only one single there before getting the same record-label run-around that most bands get at home.

How well does he feel the music holds up? "It's dated, certainly, but it's got that energy, and you can tell it was good. If you look at the music I left behind, La Peste is really where it's at. I could never do that again -- impossible. Not that I have a walking stick, but there's no way I could hit that energy level. But I still listen to punk rock."

THROBBING LOBSTERS. We're real surprised that nobody's tried this sooner, but an all-Boston (the city, not the group) cover outfit has finally sprung up in town. The very name of the band -- the Throbbing Lobsters, after the influential mid-'80s record label -- was enough to bring a smile to a longtime scenester's face, as was the repertoire they played at the Noise's Christmas party at Club Bohemia two weeks ago. Covers of the Real Kids, the Zulus, Nervous Eaters, the Cavedogs, and even Kenne Highland -- and most impressively of all, a never-released Neighborhoods song that they learned off a bootleg tape from the 1979 Rumble. By the end of the set, the Bags' Crispin Wood and the Classic Ruins' Carl Biancucci -- who'd both been covered in the set -- were nodding their approval, as was the un-covered Gary Cherone.

It turned out that the Throbbing Lobsters are local punk/pop trio the Doom Buggies in disguise. The band have enough of a Boston garage sound that they were able to sneak a Doom Buggies song into their Throbbing Lobsters set and pass it off as a cover.

"I've been a big fan of this stuff for a long time," says singer/guitarist Bruce Allen, who admits he's too young to have seen most of the bands he covers. "But I had the Throbbing Lobster compilations, and that's what I learned from when I first moved to Boston. A lot of people have forgotten about these songs, especially since they're not on CD and people don't have turntables anymore." The Buggies have thought about covering some more up-to-date Boston material and are even learning a song from Charlie Chesterman's last solo album, but they promise a set of all-Bags material for the next Lobsters gig in March.

COMING UP. Drummer Mickey Bones brings his funky revue to the House of Blues tonight (Thursday); Serum and Gone Boys are at the Middle East, Zinnia Bloom play the Phoenix Landing, and Slipknot jam at Harpers Ferry. Two of the scene's more underrated talents, guitarist Rick Harris and singer/writer Laurie Geltman, bring their respective bands to Johnny D's. And in one of the more bizarre bills of the week, Stickfigure fronted by pitcher Jack McDowell of the Cleveland Indians return to Bill's Bar . . . Bring your mom to the Women of Sodom/Space Pussy double bill at the Middle East tomorrow (Friday), or bring yourself to the Pooka Stew/Gravy double bill at T.T. the Bear's Place. The ever-rockin' Outlets and Fort Apache protégés the Shods are at the Linwood, and reggae faves Anthem are at the Western Front . . . Making his first high-profile appearance in a while, Eric Martin and his fab Illyrians are at Mama Kin Saturday, Chevy Heston headline the Rat, Bim Skala Bim are at the Middle East, and the Bee Charmers play the Tam . . . Todd Thibaud's Monday-night residency at Bill's Bar continues this week with Kevin Connolly as special guest . . . And there's a fine night of indie pop at the Middle East on Wednesday, with Simple Machines acts Ida and Secret Stars.