By Mike Appelstein
By Daniel Hill
By Roy Kasten
By Kris Wernowsky
By Chaz Kangas
By Joseph Hess
By Julie Seabaugh
By Mike Appelstein
The Urge is for sale. At least, that's the premise of their new video, "Too Much Stereo," the first single from the St. Louis-based sextet's new album of the same name.
"It's like a comedy, really," says Urge vocalist Steve Ewing, on the phone from his home in Los Angeles, where he's lived for a year-and-a-half. "It has nothing to do with the song. It's definitely a visual thing, like an infomercial you'd be watching at 3 o'clock in the morning and some guy is going, 'It doesn't stick!'"
"It's pretty damn good -- I love it," adds guitarist Jerry Jost in a later interview that finds him seated next to bassist Karl Grable in a conference room at the RFT offices. "I'm glad we did it. We've always had just performance videos, and they're cool, but there's something kind of phony about standing there acting like you're playing. We wanted to do something where we were in the video but doing something other than just playing our instruments.
"We're a little more goofy than rock stars you see in videos standing in an alleyway or something," says Grable. "That's just not our style."
Just what the Urge's style might be these days is becoming increasingly hard to tell -- not that there's anything wrong with that. The new album is rich with textures that draw on such varied musical genres as funk, ska, metal and punk -- not just over the course of the album but within the span of individual songs. The 11 tracks on Too Much Stereo are a little like the local weather -- if you don't like what's happening now, stick around for a few minutes and things will change.
"One thing we wanted to get away from big-time was the ska label," Jost says, noting that the popular notion of that being the Urge's primary direction had limited them creatively. "On the record before this one (1998's Master of Styles), we had all these different ideas of things we wanted to do, but we were too worried about still sounding like us. On this record, we just said, 'Screw it.' We just went for it and just wrote what we liked instead of trying to fit into, you know the 'Urge sound' or whatever. We just did it."
"I think it's good for bands to be like that, to move in different directions," Ewing says. "I think of David Bowie in particular. In a lot of his songs, he has a technique that he uses where he shifts gears someplace in the song. You know it's coming -- you don't know exactly what it is, but you know it's coming. That's exciting. Just when you think a song is going to taper off, it shifts gears. It's a good thing to be able to do that."
Part of the credit for the band's ability to assert itself and move forward creatively goes to producer Cliff Magness, who had previously worked with acts completely out of the Urge's orbit, such as Barbra Streisand, Michael Jackson, Al Jarreau and Hanson.
"He's more a songwriting guy than he is an engineer," says Jost. "Our last producer was basically a really good engineer. He had a lot of ideas, but musically he didn't offer as much. It was nice with Cliff, because we know how to make a record sound good, because we've done it before. But it was cool to have someone who could make suggestions about the songs beyond just the production of it."
"The guy we had last time is a good friend of ours," Grable says, "but he was such a stickler. We'd do things probably 15 times, to the point where I was questioning myself whether I could actually play my instrument. This time we went right ahead and blew it out. Our drummer was done in a day-and-a-half. I was done in a few hours."
"We were more prepared going into the studio, though," says Jost. "We spent a year-and-a half just writing and getting songs together, so by the time we actually recorded, we were really ready to go."
Much of that time was spent with the band in two separate cities -- Ewing in LA and Grable, Jost, trombonist Matt Kwiatkowski, drummer John Pessoni and saxophonist Bill Reiter here in St. Louis -- yet that doesn't seem to have affected the group's creative process much. "It hasn't changed things at all," Ewing claims, noting that his move to LA was undertaken "to shift my life in a different direction.
"When we're not touring or making a record, we're not together that much anyway," he says. "Everyone has their own thing going on. Besides, we made the record out here, so while we were working on it, they spent most of their time here."
"It's not that big of a deal," Grable agrees. "All it really means is that when he's in St. Louis, he has to hang out at his mom's house (laughs)."
In some ways, Ewing's move has actually spurred the band on to new creative heights. Because Ewing is the chief lyricist, his new home has given him a variety of new topics to write about. On Too Much Stereo, a prime example can be found in "Welcome to Gunville," a topical track about violence and its saturation coverage by the LA media.