By Mabel Suen
By Kris Wernowsky
By Daniel Hill
By Allison Babka
By Joseph Hess
By Allison Babka
By Joseph Hess
By Daniel Hill
Nadine is calling from a little London hotel, the one where the rock stars stay. "It's like Fawlty Towers," shouts singer/guitarist Adam Reichmann from across the room. The owner of the hotel, a woman in her forties, has operated the establishment since the '70s. "She should be the queen, clearly," adds Rauner. "Totally awesome. She's been around for a long time, and she wasn't going to be able to come to our show, so last night we played her some acoustic stuff in the lounge, and she told us this story about the Sex Pistols staying at the hotel. They threw a TV out the window; it exploded with a massive boom on the street, then they immediately jumped under the covers and turned off the lights. When she came up, they said, "Oh no, there was never a TV in this room.' What a bunch of wussies, man. They were the Backstreet Boys, weren't they?"
In the twilight of the European tour in support of their third -- and best -- record, Lit Up from the Inside, St. Louis band Nadine (Reichmann, guitar/vocals; Rauner, guitars, vocals; Anne Tkach, bass; Todd Schnitzer, drums) are finally able to relax for a few days, sit in a hotel lobby and strum some of their songs. The tour consisted of 25 dates in 31 days, with stops in Denmark, Germany, England and Scotland, and, over the phone, the band breathes a tiny sigh of relief that the schedule is coming to a close. However tiring, the dense run is the result of a simple truth: Europeans want to see Nadine live, and the band is touring there because of demand.
"So many dates in a row, your sociopath ratio increases, so it's nice to have a couple days off," says Reichmann. "I feel like a normal human being again. It's been pretty fun this time. Last time we were over here, we didn't know what to expect every place, and some of the places we've gone this time, we've returned to the same places, and it's remarkable how well not only these people remember us but we remember them. We just spent a night with them, but now we've got -- I guess you could call them friends -- over here, just because we get a lot of partying in on a single night."
The night before, they were on the BBC, performing their songs. The next night, they perform in London. Then it's on to Scotland before heading home to celebrate the stateside release of Lit Up at Off Broadway on Friday, Dec. 15. Most surprising to all of them, it seems, is the fervor with which they've been greeted; the crowds aren't huge, but they're dedicated. Rauner describes one such encounter with a German fan, who asked him, with a straight face: "So tell me, exactly why did you decide to play a different solo on this song than on the record?"
"There's this group of particularly Glitterhouse label bands' fans," he says, referring to the record label to which they're signed in Europe. "They're like Grateful Dead fans. This one couple of people came to 10 shows this tour. This one guy drove 16 hours to Alborg (Denmark). It was crazy. And they're all avid bootleggers, so they'll bring you a CD of the show you played two nights before. Anne gets the worst of it, because she's such a babe. She had this one guy show up with a T-shirt that he made with a picture of her on it. They're kind of crazy." ("Oh my gosh," say Tkach of the fan. "We saw him a couple of times on this trip. His name is Mike, and he plays blues guitar. He doesn't speak very good English, so it's kind of hard to communicate -- a lot smiling and nodding.")
"It's cool," continues Rauner. "Not to get heavy about it, but I think the German people -- probably these particular people are so into American rock music because they really think it means a lot in terms of the American free-spirit thing. They impose, I think, a little more than what's really going on in the situation, but they're really into the idea of the American frontier. These are the same dudes that rent the Winnebagos and go traveling around the American South and the Midwest and down Texas and the mountains."
Nadine does play American music, even if the two acts the group most closely resembles these days, Neil Young (circa Tonight's the Night) and the Band, are Canadian. Last year's Downtown, Saturday showcased a band discovering its voice, one that mixes a touch of twang with a hearty pop hook and an inherent existential sadness. On Lit Up, that sadness runs even deeper, punctuated with moaning organs, strange, quiet beats and the occasional pedal steel. A thunderstorm is directly overhead during most of Lit Up, but, unlike other American bands drawing from similar wells of inspiration, Nadine doesn't wallow until the emotion becomes flat, doesn't abuse the genetic sorrow inside country music as lesser bands do. Rather, Reichmann, who writes the lyrics and sings the songs, tosses difficult, big-picture questions out there and then wrestles with them, setting them within vivid landscapes and peppering any answer with an equally compelling follow-up question. In the core of Lit Upruns a thick vein of sadness, but the record is hopeful because Reichmann understands that sorrow is inevitable and the only way to succeed in this world is through the simple acceptance of sorrow's pervasiveness. Reichmann takes comfort in the truth that when the world seems its most grim, beauty is most vivid; on a stormy day, a stray sunbeam can set the world ablaze. Sings Reichmann in "Hope Is Like the Rain": "When words are only names/and places are picture frames/then hope can feel like the rain/falling down on you again."