To LA and back

Ape Hangers return as 3XL

by Brett Milano

It's a time-honored tradition for Boston bands to relocate to LA to get famous. 3XL, formerly Ape Hangers, are bucking the trend by relocating back to Boston to get obscure -- at least for the time being.

When they were an LA-based band of three transplanted Boston rockers, Ape Hangers were beneficiaries of the Great Punk Revival Binge two years ago -- signing with A&M, releasing a solid album (Ultrasounds), landing a song on the Empire Records soundtrack, and embarking on a low-profile national tour. But that more or less coincided with the end of the punk revival (which more or less collapsed with the flop of Green Day's last album). With their major-label fling having run its course, the renamed band are back where they once belonged, hitting, among other places, the same clubs they used to frequent individually at the turn of the last decade. They play the Middle East this Tuesday, the 17th.

"Anyone who's in a band and says they don't want to be successful is full of shit," notes drummer Dennis McCarthy over pitchers and grape leaves at the Middle East. "But we want it on different terms; quality of life is definitely a factor. Opportunity knocks in a big way when you're in LA, but you pay a big price for it. The music we play is a continuation of what we've always played, so we may as well do it here."

"We have a love-hate thing with the word punk," adds bassist Bob Kiah. "When we grew up, it wasn't just a homogenized thing coming out of Orange County."

"Yeah, like Rancid -- `We have mohawks but our video still cost 50 grand,' " McCarthy concludes.

The three band members had visions of glory when they hit LA a few years back. Kiah and singer/guitarist Peter Sjostedt were in the Promise, a band just beginning to make a name out here. McCarthy was more established, with a justifiable rep as one of Boston's best rock drummers, thanks to his prodigious bashing with the Prime Movers and the Slaves.

"I'd spent 10 years in Boston getting nowhere, so all I heard from people was `Move to LA, dude,' " McCarthy recalls.

"I know I personally had the image that I'd walk off the plane and it would all start to happen," admits Sjostedt. The closest they came to fame was that Kiah got an audition with Lenny Kravitz. "Humiliating as hell," he recalls. "You walk in and Kravitz's band is there without him, you play `Are You Gonna Go My Way' for 30 seconds, they say `Next!' and you walk back down the line."

Meanwhile, McCarthy was offered a gig with Ugly Kid Joe, which sounded good until he heard their music. "I got their CD to learn the songs, then called back and said, `Nope, see ya.' They made Guns N' Roses' lyrics sound like a master's thesis."

Eventually McCarthy joined a late line-up of the Promise, which broke up and then re-formed without its lead singer. Calling themselves Ape Hangers, they resolved to avoid the Hollywood club grind. "We thought we'd do the Malcolm McLaren thing and make them come to us," notes Sjostedt. "So we started throwing keg parties at our house in Silverlake."

Hold on a minute -- they got the ultimate plum of a major-label deal just by throwing keg parties?

"These were really good keg parties," McCarthy explains.

"It didn't hurt that three-chord rock was all of a sudden happening," adds Sjostedt. What did hurt, however, was that A&M pinned most of its hopes for the band on the Empire Records soundtrack, and then the movie bombed.

"I remember reading an article in the Phoenix about how labels put their own artists on movie soundtracks," says Kiah. "Well, it's true, and we were no exception."

So what was the problem?

"The movie was the worst piece of shit ever made," Sjostedt acknowledges. "That's the business; every star in the universe has to line up for you, and if there's one weak link, you're fucked."

In truth, Ape Hangers didn't do too badly. The soundtrack still sold 350,000 copies, even if the only artist who got a hit from it was Edwyn Collins. And A&M gave them enough money to buy them a van, pay for their next indie release, and keep them out of day jobs for the past two years.

"Financially, we cleaned up," says Sjostedt. "And I don't want to sound bitter, but a label's going to be asking what has the most mainstream potential. Is it Ape Hangers, Ass Ponys [also recently dumped from A&M], or Dishwalla? It may suck, but it sells." Without changing personnel they took the name 3XL upon returning to Boston -- "to distance ourselves from the A&M debacle," McCarthy says.

The big irony is that even while they were courting Los Angeles, the band had as quintessential a Boston garage/punk sound as you could ask for. Their A&M album -- which is easily worth the two bucks it probably costs in local used bins -- is good: punchy guitar rock with real tunes and tight production. The band write a mean hook, and McCarthy's wild-man drumming remains a marvel. The new 3XL demo is actually a tape of an Ape Hangers EP that A&M pressed up but didn't release. Along with a couple of remixes from the album, it's got a souped-up version of Mike Nesmith's "You Just May Be the One." Bringing back memories of the Outlets' old cover of "You Told Me" (originally from the same Monkees album!), it's either hopelessly retro or a timeless blast. I'd opt for the latter.

WBCN RAVE

Radio-sponsored gigs are so much a part of the calendar by now -- and so much a process of major labels' strategies to get their less-established bands on the radio -- that it's only a matter of time before the labels join forces, put the bands on tour, and have the same package shows in every city. Perhaps the most telling thing about this year's WBCN "X-Mass Rave" (please, guys, change the name of this next year) was that most of the bands played a similar event in Providence the same week, and probably many others in different parts of the country. Must be a lot of program directors out there with exactly the same taste.

All right, so much for cynicism. Thank 'BCN, the labels, or the fact that alterna-rock hasn't gone away yet, but this year's line-up was particularly strong. Even with the Butthole Surfers' no-show at Avalon (where de facto headliners Mazzy Star cut their set short after 45 minutes, upset by the dance beats leaking in from Axis), the odds were good that you'd find something great if you cruised the clubs. I saw a Sebadoh show at the Paradise that blew me away: a few careers' worth of great songs wrapped into an hour, with the band turning from an impeccably tight loud-pop outfit to juiced-up punk trio to a few things in between, depending on what the songs called for. Lou Barlow and company apparently used the crowd's merely polite response (at least half were clearly there for Social Distortion) as prodding to play that much harder. And yes, 'BCN deserves credit for letting Sebadoh join the club, not to mention putting them on one of the more prominent bills.

Passing up Social D, I headed back to Lansdowne Street, where I'd begun the night (earlier I'd seen some good hard-pop from Superdrag and a loud-and-fun Mama Kin set from D Generation, who just may be the Neighborhoods of the '90s). Luscious Jackson sounded looser than they did on last year's R.E.M. tour and less reliant on backing tapes, churning out some slinky, dubwise grooves; don't let anyone tell you the Bush Tetras weren't influential. Mazzy Star's calm atmospherics made a nice palate cleanser, though they could probably play the same song for two hours and few people would be the wiser. And the Lemonheads' Evan Dando got the Shane MacGowan award for playing a tight, tuneful set despite stage patter that strongly suggested he was a little tight himself. The one turkey of my evening was Geggy Tah, who played at Bill's Bar and proved that the world-beat movement has finally discovered the concept of "cutesy-poo."

COMING UP

Juliana Hatfield is working hard on a new album, and she'll likely be introducing many of the songs at the Middle East tonight (Thursday). The nifty Sub Pop combo Jale open. Meanwhile, former O Positive leader Dave Herlihy brings his new band, Hurl, to Mama Kin, and the Mighty Mighty Bosstones hit the Rat on their third Hometown Throwdown. Poundcake and the Red Telephone are at T.T. the Bear's Place, and Roomful of Blues reunite with whiz trombonist Porky Cohen at the House of Blues . . . If you didn't live in town before this year, you missed a killer band in Concussion Ensemble, the instrumental outfit fronted by guitarist Rich Gilbert. They play their first gig in a year at the Middle East tomorrow (Friday). Meanwhile, the Gravy (with ex-Cavedog Todd Spahr) and Jack Frosting are at Mama Kin, Rippopotamus are at the Rat, the Radio Kings play Johnny D's, and Irish rockers Something Happens are at T.T.'s.

With their album finally set for release in February, Talking to Animals hit T.T.'s on Saturday, on a strong bill that includes Lumen, Jenifer Jackson (supporting a new EP), and Underball. Ex-Scarce frontman Chick Graning is at the bottom of a Middle East bill headlined by Trona; Idiot Box are at the Irish Embassy, the Bentmen play Mama Kin, and Flunkies are at the Phoenix Landing . . . Underground fave Ramona Silver plays Mama Kin on Sunday . . . It's wah-hey time again as former Turbines leader John Hovorka makes a rare local visit to Charlie's Tap on Monday . . . Guitarist Steve Vai, who used to be cool before he joined Whitesnake, plays Axis on Wednesday, and the still-cool and still-drunk Gang Green play the Middle East.