Soft and loud

Todd Thibaud and Slughog

Cellars by Starlight by Brett Milano

The last time Todd Thibaud made an album, he was still smarting from the break-up of his band the Courage Brothers, still recovering from a failed major-label deal, still playing to smallish audiences, and still cynical enough to call the album Favorite Waste of Time. But now three years have passed and Thibaud has a steady band, a growing national audience, a more promising label deal, and an adult-rock niche to slot himself into. No wonder he's a bit more upbeat.

I reach Thibaud in San Francisco, where he's on a pre-release promo tour for his new album, Little Mystery (Doolittle/PolyGram). He has appearances lined up there and in Los Angeles, and his label is working on single remixes for airplay. Did the shot at commercial success affect his writing this time around? "Well, it would be hypocritical of me to say that you don't think of those things," he replies from his hotel room. "On the other hand, I try not to let that control the process. If we were going to call this art, that's one thing. But it is entertainment and you want people to ultimately buy it, and you want radio to play it. For me the test is, 'Would I be moved if I heard this on the radio myself?' I try to look at it from a listener's point of view. And so there were a few struggles, not bad ones, but healthy ones with the people from the label.

Thibaud feels that he's finally found a label he can work with. "I think I'm really lucky, I totally trust my record company. And I know that all the musicians who read this are going to say, 'He ha, he's in denial.' As far as the single goes, we all know that radio is really fragmented, and the key to success is crossing over. So the label might feel that a song is a great single but they'll need a certain mix for some format. I'll be on the road so I won't even be there, but I really trust them. Even though I know that whoever sees this in Boston is going to be saying, 'Todd, you're kidding yourself.' "

Still, Thibaud's done his creative bit. Little Mystery is his best album, simply because it's his catchiest. The smarts and the craftsmanship were already there in the Courage Brothers days, but a little more hookage never hurts, and Thibaud's gotten much better at writing choruses -- something that no doubt made his label happy, but it also gives resonance to his stories. It didn't take a genius to read the last album as a "firing back at the music biz" type of set. This time the characters are going through less specific changes -- either they're finding new homes, recovering from failed affairs, or just taking stock of their futures.

"That's true, I've gotten more analytical," he responds. "On the last album I was pretty angry at my situation. It's a tired old story that a lot of people in my position can tell. Personally, I've gotten to the point where I realize how much I used to live in the future -- like, 'Man, if I can get my life together or if I can sell more records, then everything's going to be great.' Now I know this is a cliché, but it helps to look around and figure that what you've got is already pretty cool. That's why I have a few songs saying that, and why I ended the album with 'Finer Things' instead of a big downer ballad."

I point out that the disc does include at least two big downer ballads.

"Sure, you've got to have those. Or at least I do."

More typical of Thibaud's new attitude is the title track, which looks at a female character's midlife restlessness, leaving the impression that it will work out for the better. "She's a composite of people I've met who've been in that situation, where they feel trapped by the life they've built for themselves. It can be about needing to leave their home town, not that I think that's something people should do, but she feels stifled and really needs the change. The other issue in that song is parenthood, which is just something I'm impressed by -- I can't imagine someone with my kind of life raising children, but it's hard enough when you're home all the time. I'm not sure how her life ends up. Maybe next time I'll write the sequel."

There seems to be an unspoken rule among singer-songwriters that when you get optimistic, you go back to the '60s. So it is with Little Mystery, whose opening track ("Don't Save Me") hinges on a proudly Byrdsy 12-string guitar. Similarly attractive guitar sounds, courtesy of former Knots & Crosses ax man Rick Harris, occur throughout. And Thibaud doesn't always take the obvious path: when he does a Beatles homage ("It's Only Me"), it's to George Harrison rather than Lennon/McCartney.

"Yeah, I'm guilty on that one," he admits. "I struggled with that a bit, because there's such an interest in the retro sound. I'm a huge fan of that era, but I wanted to be really careful about working those things in. I felt it was totally appropriate to these songs."

And it's a clean break from the sound of the Courage Brothers, who were hailed locally as a country band while denying they ever were one. "Kinda funny that the No Depression thing is happening now," Thibaud jokes. "We were three years too early. But we knew that if we went down South and said we were a country band, they would have laughed at us and kicked us out of the bar."

SLUGHOG SPLIT

When you ask most bands why they're breaking up, they usually give you some rap about musical differences or new opportunities. Not the case with Slughog, who are ending in the same spirit with which they began. "We wanted to get out without killing each other," is how guitarist Firestone puts it. Expect the mother of all big, loud blowouts when Slughog pack it in this Saturday at the Middle East, on a bill with Roadsaw, Scissorfight, and others.

Although perfectly nice guys off stage, Slughog were known to go a little berserk during live shows. Their most celebrated gig was the Rumble in 1993, when three bandmembers stopped playing to tussle with an audience member who'd tried to unplug a guitar (and they won). "Other than that, things were pretty tame," says Firestone. "We've never been about violence or anything like that. People who attend our shows are out there smiling if they get it; otherwise they split. But when something like that Rumble happens, the press loves it. And we got a kick out of it too."

Firestone has sustained his share of rock-related injuries: during a 1996 club date in Fargo, he suffered a concussion while doing a backflip. "But I wasn't on stage then, so it doesn't really count."

At their best, Slughog took slow-grind, hyper-nasty rock about as far as it could go, pioneering the two-bass line-up that's become almost commonplace nowadays. "That mainly happened because Andrew [Schneider] and Brian [Wright] both played bass and neither of them wanted to stop," Firestone explains. "The two of them went to high school together in Arlington, so they've been working for 10 years and wanted to get out on good terms."

Schneider now stays busy as a Barbaro member and a producer at New Alliance. And Firestone plans to get another band together and continue his assault on the world. "Loud music has a rough way to go these days, with techno and swing happening. Not that I don't like all kinds of music, but when I get on stage all I want to do is rock."

LANSDOWNE MOMENTS

A tiny but nifty bit of local-music history took place at the Best Music Poll's Lansdowne Street party a week ago Monday when Cowboy Mouth's set included a partial reunion of the Red Rockers -- as far as I know, the only band who ever moved from New Orleans to Boston. The Rockers shared a house in Brookline during the height of their MTV stardom, and they were a local fixture during the mid '80s. Singer/guitarist John Thomas Griffith went on to Cowboy Mouth; last Monday he was joined by bassist Darren Hill (now the Amazing Crowns' manager and a Monolyth Records exec) for a version of the old band's greatest hit, "China." As Cowboy Mouth drummer/frontman Fred LeBlanc explained on stage, "We wanted to do this because I think we've got a better drummer and guitar player than the Red Rockers had." Proving that his current roots-rock direction has left its mark, Griffith sang it without the fake English accent heard on the record.

Earlier that evening, Strangemen bassist Dick Vitalis was walking around backstage after his band's set when a gentleman approached him, complimented him on their show, and asked whether he could buy their CD. "Sorry, but I'm trying to give these copies to the guys from Cracker," Vitalis said. "We are the guys from Cracker," the fan replied. He got a CD.

OOPS

Last week I inadvertently killed off Dead Boys guitarist Cheetah Chrome, who, unlike lead singer Stiv Bators, is actually alive and well. As Classic Ruins bassist Carl Biancucci pointed out via e-mail, it's Chrome's hairline that's long gone.

COMING UP

The always tasteful Genitorturers play an early show at Axis tonight (Thursday). The Blind Boys of Alabama are at the House of Blues, the Gas Tank Orchestra from New Orleans are at the Milky Way, and the Rumble final is at the Middle East . . . Seventeen years into their career, the Outlets celebrate the release of their second album at Bill's Bar tomorrow (Friday); Caged Heat open. Calexico are at the Middle East, the Allstonians are at T.T. the Bear's Place, the Love Dogs are at Johnny D's, Heavy Metal Horns member Thaddeus Hogarth celebrates his CD release at the Milky Way, and a killer bill of Fuzzy, Tom Leach, and Baby Ray is at the Lizard Lounge . . . Babaloo play Johnny D's on Saturday, Euphonic are at T.T.'s, Purple Ivy Shadows are at the Lizard Lounge, Straw Horse and the Swallows are at the Linwood . . . The NYC Ska Jazz Ensemble is at the Middle East Sunday . . . Songwriter Ron Sexsmith comes to the Paradise on Tuesday while Rick Berlin debuts his As Of Yet Unnamed Ensemble at Toad. And the Sleater-Kinney show, delayed by Carrie Brownstein's injury, is at the Middle East . . . Science Park and Weeping in Fits & Starts are at T.T.'s on Wednesday.