| Jeff Simon |
 |
|
|
|
| | Here
Are the Facts You Requested received its first piece of fan mail in
1991. The package -- a note and a blurry photograph of its author --
came from a cello-playing high-schooler named Akire Lessey, and
though it was addressed to everyone, it was really intended for just
one member.
"Akire saw a show, apparently fell in love with Eugene, and sent
us this piece of mail," says guitarist/vocalist Eric Laine, who has
a decade's worth of hand-drawn fliers spread out on the table in
front of him. "I still have it somewhere."
"Yeah, I should have that," says multi-instrumentalist
Eugene Chen, from where he and now-wife Lessey sit on matching
magenta easy chairs.
The couple lives in an adorable home on the not-so-adorable south
side of Potrero Hill, beneath a procession of pastel housing
projects. Their cozy abode boasts a ferocious-looking dog named
Lama, a wall of CDs and cassettes, and a Technicolor basement
recording studio.
It's in this space that Here Are the Facts You Requested -- or
HATFYR, as it's often abbreviated -- usually resides. Deemed too
bizarre for Baltimore, the punk-dominated city in which it was
founded, HATFYR brought its genre-bending dream-pop west seven years
ago. But after playing Bottom of the Hill and similar local clubs,
the musicians realized their pieced-together psychedelia was best
received at less conventional venues. The quartet began carving out
a niche in the Bay Area's underground art community, garnering a
reputation through oddball gigs, meticulous studio work, and a
head-turning, soul-infused groove far afield from its indie rock
peers. And with their new album, Felt, the musicians have
created a record more like modern art than trendy pop pastiche: Its
pleasing surfaces reveal sonic shades and textures that grow more
complex with each listen.
Alternately sipping coffee and Miller Genuine Draft, the members
of HATFYR explain how they came together. Though the combo formed in
Baltimore in 1991, the idea actually began brewing when Reading,
Penn., natives Chen and Laine met on a playground in the third
grade.
"There was a smooth progression from having sleepovers and doing
fake radio shows into a tape recorder to actually having a
four-track and starting to make music," says Chen, looking younger
than his 33 years with short-sheared black hair and scattered facial
hair.
When the pair finished college, they moved to Baltimore to start
a band. They found their drummer, L. Bill Miller, after placing an
ad in a local altweekly. Instead of outlining musical influences,
the advertisement simply fired off a list of phrases, including "pop
theory," "revolution duty," and "pow-wow auditions."
"I was intrigued," says Miller, 32. "I said, 'You're not really
telling me what kind of music you're making,' and Eric's response
was, 'Well, it's somewhere between Shriekback and Neil Diamond.' And
with that I was like, 'I'd love to audition.'"
Next the group needed a name. One day, Chen was making
photocopies at work and came upon a bunch of stickers that read
"Here Are the Facts You Requested." He put one on his guitar and
swiped the rest of the roll.
"We didn't have a whole lot of money, so if the stickers were
already made, [we figured], 'Here we go,'" says Laine, 33. Gesturing
around the house, he jokes, "All of this stuff is stolen office
supplies."
Lessey discovered the trio when she was a teenager playing cello
with the Baltimore Symphony. "I saw them at a gig," says the
flaxen-haired musician, now 28. "I was stalking Eugene, because I
was just a horny high-schooler." Soon after sending that piece of
fan mail, she was asked to audition.
"The idea of a cello in the band was appealing," remembers Laine,
"especially cello played by a woman who's barely taller than the
cello and who played it while dancing."
After growing tired of Baltimore's narrow-minded rock scene,
HATFYR relocated to San Francisco in 1995, where it took to
tinkering in its basement workshop, Abandon Studios. (In order to
help fund its efforts, HATFYR records other local artists there,
among them Sonny Smith, Subnautic, and DJ Zeph.) The resultant first
album, 1998's Shocks + Struts, was hard to classify -- a
somewhat abstract sound collage riddled with Lessey's dreamy cello
layers and Chen's synthesized bass lines. "Shut Up" wove
funk-infused riffs into an amusement-park atmosphere, while a
surreal and sultry version of Prince's "1999" featured plucky
acoustic guitars.
"Shocks + Struts had a very planned methodology -- get
really baked, have a pastry or two, and end up with 60 minutes of
tape," says Chen, who also handles guitar, vocal, and electronics
duties. "Then, we mine that material. We put things down
spontaneously but then put them into a reasonable structure that
people can understand."
What set the band apart from its peers was the lack of humble
tape hiss and off-balance amateurism often associated with home
recording. That professionalism was partly due to HATFYR's veritable
fifth member, Ben Conrad, a freelance sound engineer who'd worked at
Fantasy Studios in Berkeley and Wide Hive in S.F.
"I'm a patron, and I really love the music and the attitude,"
says Conrad. "Here Are the Facts You Requested really just embody
what the independent record label movement is all about: Keep the
inspiration and not concern yourself with selling a lot of records."
Upon its release, Shocks + Struts drew plenty of other
admirers, including Jose Lopez, head of the Spanish label Testing
Ground, who was so impressed that he released Shocks + Struts
in Europe. (He plans to put out Felt this spring, following
HATFYR's 10-day Spanish tour next month.) "I like the music of Here
Are the Facts You Requested because it is chancy," says Lopez via
e-mail. "It puts different styles and tendencies in a blender and
mixes everything to get music that surprises everyone who listens to
it."
Most groups attempt to play out as much as possible once they
release an album. HATFYR, however, mostly abandoned the club circuit
after Shocks + Struts. Instead, following a trip to Black
Rock City in 1995, HATFYR found solace within the local Burning Man
scene, playing art-oriented events that allowed a freedom not found
in bars.
At one such show, the band recorded live with a four-track,
rewinding the tape during the show to lay down multiple parts, and
finally distributing cassettes of the performance to the audience.
"The fun part was the rewinding," Chen recalls.
One of HATFYR's more outrageous shows occurred in 1997, on a fire
escape at the opening of the "Defenestration" project (the building
at Sixth and Howard with furniture crawling from the windows). The
musicians dressed in costume and composed an original soundtrack for
the festivities, which included an urban circus and a mock-superhero
battle. Most recently, the band contributed a sample- and
keyboard-heavy set to a Cyberbuss Costume Ball "recovery party" at
the G-Spot, a Bayview warehouse space.
"We love S.F. for still having underground spaces like [the
G-Spot]," Chen says. "There's just something so artificial about
playing in a club. At a party, when you're done setting up, you're
there with friends. Whereas at a club, you're sitting there with the
bartender who's washing dishes for four hours."
HATFYR's recent live-performance hibernation can also be
attributed to working on its long-awaited sophomore effort, Felt.
Released three months ago, the album is more cohesive than the
first one, whose meandering tone occasionally proved distracting.
Artsy but warmly unpretentious and accessible, Felt is
the group's twisted take on soul music.
"We wanted to explore structure and accidentally ended up
exploring soul," Laine offers. "Our motto was 'No unnecessary
overdubs.' Without excessive overdubs and psychedelic sound effects,
all that was left was rhythm, melody, and emotion."
The welcome evolution hasn't dulled HATFYR's eclecticism one bit.
While Shocks + Struts was a montage of sounds shaped into
melodies, Felt is an assemblage of styles joined fluidly into
one work. Chen's playful falsetto vocals on the stripped-down "Peas"
recalls Beck's plastic soul on Midnight Vultures. The loping
"Pony" has a kitschy They Might Be Giants edge, accented by
turntables, banjo, and the oft-present cello, which also shows up on
the chill-out exercise "Firefly." "Tulip" offers Bowie-like swagger
without the machismo, with double-tracked, ethereal vocals from
Lessey, who's just as comfortable delivering enchanting, abstract
lyrics -- like that song's "Let's slow down, have a picnic/ By the
windmill, in our dreaming/ Between boats and space/ Between breath
and sex" -- or frivolous ones about a space cowgirl making snack
food ("Popcorn").
"The working title for Felt was Simple," says
Lessey. "Shocks + Struts was chaotic, so we used that working
title to remind ourselves that we don't need to put every idea in
until it's really refined."
HATFYR has already begun working on its next album, which Laine
hints will capture a little bit of the experimental psychedelia of
the first record and the gentle pop-soul of the second effort.
"Shocks + Struts is Sgt. Pepper, and Felt is
Rubber Soul," he says. "Next album -- Revolver."
| sfweekly.com
| originally published: January 29, 2003
| - - - - - - - - - - - - -
- - - - - - - - - - - - -
 |
Printer
friendly version of this story |
 |
Email
Nancy Einhart |
 |
More
stories by Nancy Einhart |
 |
Send a letter
to the
editor | |
|