No longer a Kid

But John Felice still rocks for real

by Brett Milano

It wasn't long ago that you'd never see former Real Kids leader John Felice in a rock club, but nowadays he's everywhere. His band, the Devotions, whose past gigs have been few and far between, wound up playing every weekend this month -- last week they even played twice, including a harbor cruise. Never mind getting a second wind; by now Felice is up to his third or fourth.

"I'm not making a comeback; people are just starting to pay attention again," he explains. "For some people rock and roll is a hobby, but I'm fuckin' living it. I'm nearly 42, and there's nobody my age that even wants to play anymore, and I haven't changed my act at all -- except I hope I'm 20 years better by now. I still live the same way I did 20 years ago, and I'm making the same money. But I'm not going to go around feeling sorry for myself; I'm not looking for anything, except respect."

Give some to Felice, who fits on the short list of people who've been playing local rock for that long and are still worth seeing for non-nostalgic reasons. If you go see the Devotions nowadays (they play the Kirkland Café this Friday, September 13, and T.T. the Bear's Place next Wednesday, September 18), you'll still hear the old Real Kids hits -- they do "All Kindsa Girls," "Common at Noon," and most of the first album -- but you won't hear it all at once. Felice has got a stack of new tunes, from an as-yet-unreleased album that he recorded with Steve Wynn producing last year, and it's his best batch in a long while -- hook-heavy, punk-edged pop that chronicles the eternal search for perfect romance and a great night out. It's truer to the spirit of the Real Kids than anything he's done in about 10 years, including the last Real Kids reunion.

Felice is the first to admit that he's squandered some good faith over the years. The dark period began with the release of his previous album, Nothing Pretty (Ace of Hearts, 1988). That was his Road to Ruin or Tonight's the Night: a brutally frank batch of tunes about a drug-and-depression-induced downswing. (Its best song, "I'll Never Play That Song Again," is a bitter ballad inspired by too many requests for "All Kindsa Girls.") When the album didn't sell, the downswing swung further down. Felice played occasional gigs with the Lowdowns or the original Real Kids (who got back together for about a year in 1991), hitting the target sometimes and missing at others. (I recall one drunken shambles of a Real Kids gig at the Rat that was pretty enjoyable in its way.) But he spent much of his time just lying low.

"I went into a big tailspin," he admits. "That album came out, I put my heart and soul into it and just saw it get blown off. I took it personally, and it's probably the first time that I ever did. I went to Arizona, hung out with my mom, got incredibly bored. I tried to stop playing for about a year -- kept my guitar under my bed and thought that I could get by, but I couldn't. You think you're reaching a low point, but I was never so depressed as when I stopped playing."

As for the Real Kids reunion, "It was a mistake; we shouldn't have done it. I mean, some of the gigs were great, but we were back in emotional quicksand with no inspiration -- the band's name deserved better than we gave it. The Real Kids were a real working-class band and our fans were incredibly loyal; the guys loved our macho stance and the girls loved our heartbreak songs. When we got together in 1976, all we had was our common love for rock and roll and our disdain for what was on the radio."

Felice has gotten back into action for pretty much the same reasons. The current Devotions line-up -- drummer Diane Gately, bassist Bruce Hamel, and guitarist Richard Mirsky -- fits right into his usual two-guitar/bass/drums format. "I don't know how to do anything else, so I'm doing the same thing I've always done -- just rock and roll. I know that sounds stupid but it's the truth. Virtuosity doesn't mean a whole lot to me. When people join the band they don't need to show me any great licks, just that they love rock and roll as much as I do."

He's holding onto the new album until he finds a good label, though he plans to release a few of the 16 tracks on a CD single this year. And the time looks right: there are still bands covering Real Kids songs. Klover did "All Kindsa Girls"; Rocket from the Crypt do "Who Needs You"; a bunch of Australians are doing a tribute album.

"I had a bad attitude about slogging through the clubs again, playing the same places I did 20 years ago, but right now I feel that I'd do this every night if I could. It all comes down to getting on stage and delivering the goods. At the risk of sounding conceited, that's something I can still do."

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SIX FINGER SATELLITE

The best thing about the last Six Finger Satellite album, Severe Exposure (Sub Pop), was its sneakiness. The music hovered just close enough to the edge of accessibility to attract people who thought they wouldn't be caught dead enjoying an album of avant-noise rock with synthesizers. The dubwise bass lines and surf guitar were enough to draw you in, then pummel you with the vocal abuse and synth nastiness that singer J Ryan and keyboardist John MacLean were putting down. The album stayed perched between disturbance and grisly fun, never resolving in either direction.

The just-released follow-up, Paranormalized (also Sub Pop), takes a different approach. Although half its tracks are the most out-there stuff ever recorded by the band (which is saying something), the other half take on a weird goofiness that brings '80s new wave to mind. The opening "30 Lashes" sounds remarkably like Devo (at least the early, more menacing Devo); "Do the Suicide" could be early Pere Ubu with a sicker sense of humor. "Coke & Mirrors" even takes a jab at disco, complete with that hi-hat cymbal heard on nearly every '70s disco record, while the synths pull in a more chaotic direction. The sound gets denser and scarier on the album's second half, until the recording tape audibly malfunctions on the metallic-scraping "The Great Depression." By then Ryan's voice is distorted beyond recognition, as though what he's got to say were so horrible that he couldn't give it to you straight. Paranormalized lures you in and then whomps you over the head, instead of doing both at once, as Severe Exposure did -- but this time the whomps come a little harder.

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MORPHINE DELAYED

If you were waiting to pick up a copy of Morphine's fourth album, Like Swimming, you'll have to wait a while longer. On the eve of its scheduled release (which was set for October 15), Rykodisc has announced a delay of at least three months; the release is now set for an unspecified date in late January. According to publicist Carrie Svingen, the delay will allow time for a bigger launch/marketing campaign. My preview listen (yep, advance copies are circulating) suggests it's a more unified, sometimes darker, and all-around better album than 1994's yes, with an obvious hit in the hedonistic "Early to Bed." Since Morphine still owe Rykodisc one more studio album, their DreamWorks contract is now unlikely to take effect before 1999. (Rumors that DreamWorks is snatching the current album were denied by Ryko.)

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COMING UP

Chelsea on Fire headline T.T. the Bear's Place with Bleu tonight (Thursday), Serum and Moss are at the Middle East upstairs while folk-rock faves the Nields perform downstairs, and Charlie Chesterman headlines the Phoenix Landing . . . Tomorrow (Friday) finds Kelley Deal returning to T.T. the Bear's Place; Kevin Salem plays early at Bill's Bar, Duke Robillard slings guitar at Harpers Ferry, Pooka Stew are downstairs at the Middle East with Shiva Speedway and Speedball Baby upstairs, fast-guitar guy Yngwie Malmsteen plays Mama Kin, and Lonnie Brooks is at the House of Blues . . . Remember the New Models, a new-wave band who headlined all over the place in the '80s? Leader Casey Lindstrom resurfaces at the Kendall Café on Saturday. Also Saturday, Low and the Godrays are at the Middle East, Vykki Vox is at Johnny D's, Irish rockers the Brilliant Trees hit the Phoenix Landing, and Chainsuck and Lumen are at T.T.'s . . . Skavoovie skank it up at the Rat on Sunday . . . Ska-punkers Goldfinger come to the Middle East Monday . . . Superfly celebrate their cool new CD with a show at Bill's Bar on Tuesday . . . Entrain have a CD-release party at the Paradise on Wednesday, the eternal Flat Duo Jets rock the Middle East, and a mess o' bands (including Hamerd, Bleed, and the DeNiros) save the whales at Axis.

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BMA is back

The Boston Music Awards are back, and more ambitious than ever. The BMA announced its nominees for the 10th annual event a week ago Thursday, with the prime vote getters being Tracy Bonham (seven nominations), Letters to Cleo (six), the Dambuilders (five), and Martin Sexton (five). But the biggest news was the BMA's establishment of NEMO (loosely, Northeast Music Organization), which hopes to create a "Music Showcase & Conference" on the scale of Austin's South by Southwest. Following the model of that event, NEMO will feature panel discussions, demo critiques, "mentor sessions," and "200+ bands from all over the US at 20 clubs." The BMA has also brought on a slew of sponsors, including presenting sponsors Kahlua, plus the Boston Herald, the Hard Rock Café (where the nominations were announced), Strawberries, and WBCN.

The event kicks off with the BMA awards at the Orpheum Theatre on October 22 (performers, drawn from the nominees, have not yet been announced) and continues with other events through October 24. You can call the BMA for information about applying for a showcase slot, or about the other NEMO events, at 338-3144. You can get a BMA ballot at Strawberries or vote on the Internet at http://www.bmawards.com.

-- Jon Garelick