When I first learned of them it was around 1986, I think. They were a local band, which was not a scene I was part of back then. My sister was friends with them, and we took a road trip with them up to South Carolina for a show. They played the sort of jangle pop that was all over the place at the time, and they did a damn good job of it. They were fun to be around. They all lived in the same house, they really came across as a sort of latter day Monkees in some ways (none of them derogatory). Just after high school I started hanging out with them a lot more. When they found out I was going to be going to college in Massachusetts they started calling me Sammy (as in Cheers). It became such an insidious nickname with them that there was one day when one of them was shocked to be reminded that it wasn’t actually my name. They released their first CD on DB Records (they’d had singles and at least one vinyl release before this, self-released) and my sister and I were in the liner notes. The year in between high school and college I spent a lot of time with them, went out of town with them a few times.
Once I went to college we sort of lost touch. I would go catch shows and things were starting to happen for them, and we would catch up. I never felt the slightest bit bitter about how we had drifted apart. They put out two more CDs over that time period, each progressively better and more polished.
They finally got a bite at a major label (Atlantic) and put out a record called Book of Bad Thoughts which Atlantic failed to do anything for and it promptly sank like a stone. They had a two album deal which Atlantic bought them out of or something, but either way they were dropped.
In the meantime Brendan O’Brien, who had produced their last two CDs, and just liked them a lot, had suddenly become the hot producer, and Sony gave him his own label, and his first signing was Uncle Green, who in the meantime had sort of reformed themselves as 3 lb. Thrill. They gave a few reasons for the name change, and I do think it helped them to feel a little liberated, I mean, 10 years under the same name can make you feel a little constricted to a particular sound, but mostly I think it was because they knew that most bands only get one shot at a major, and so changing their name was their only option to try and get another deal. They had already started sounding harder edged before they changed the name, and they talked about changing it for almost a year before finally settling on one. So it wasn’t as drastic as it might have seemed to a lot of people.
When Vulture came out things looked good. “Diana” was the single and they were about to fly to New York to do the video when MTV said there was no way they would ever play it, since it dealt with child molestation. Madonna dancing in front of burning crosses, yes, band no one knows singing about child molestation, no. So the video was halted, and all the plans went up in the air. A couple of months passed and the label tried again with “Something Will Come,” made the video and everything, but by then too much time had passed. There just wasn’t any momentum anymore.
Even so, it was still Brendan’s label, so they started to work on the second record. They rented a house here in town, set up a studio there, and were producing themselves, with Nick Didia doing the engineering. They recorded about 30 songs, most of it really amazing. But meanwhile every other act that Brendan had signed had also stiffed, and the label just wasn’t all that thrilled with him anymore. When they played the demos they got the death knell from any label: “we don’t hear a single.” So they actually went back in on their own dime and cut 5 songs which were apparently very catchy (these I’ve never heard), but Sony still wasn’t interested, and dropped them. Soon afterwards the mini-label ceased to be. They shopped the demo around, and had three or four very close calls with labels, but in the end no one bit.
I think it was all really disheartening for them, and in the meantime they had all moved out of the shared house, and were sort of getting lives outside each other. It was just too much effort and too much time without any reasonable response, and that was pretty much that. Matt recorded a solo record (which I haven’t heard but would love to) and shopped it, but no one ever picked it up. I don’t think he’s really doing anything in music now. The others play every now and then, in other bands, or studio work, but mainly went back to school or got regular jobs.
Anyone who’s been reading me for a while knows that Pete McDade, who plays currently in my backing band, is the former drummer for Uncle Green/3 lb. Thrill. It was a big deal for me to have him playing on the CD and to have him playing live with me lately. The cassettes I had from before of those 30 or so rough mixes have been missing for years, not uncommon in our house. Last night Pete brought me CD copies of all of those rough mixes, and I listened to them on the drive home from rehearsal last night.
I had forgotten how good it was. It really was a dramatic step forward. When Vulture came out I was still in Radiant City, and we all listened to that record, and talked about how it was a benchmark for us, something we were shooting to try to top somehow. When I got to hear these songs on cassette way back when, I was stunned, and very envious. Listening last night it finally occurred to me more than it has before…
I always list as my influences people like Neil Finn, Michael Penn, even Jeff Lynne, obviously. But when it all boils down, the band that is most responsible for me doing this full time is Uncle Green. Personally from having been with them during some of their career, and seeing what it was like; and musically because for a long time they paced me, always providing a higher level for me to try to catch up to. I’m not sure I’ve ever gotten that far.
Listening to the CD on the way home was bittersweet, if only because it’s sad to think these songs never got a chance to be heard.