
(E-mail interview I did today with a guy named Pete Crigler.)
Hello Michael,
My name is Pete Crigler and I am working on an essay on the history of Virginia rock music. I have just a few questions I’d like to ask you about Baby Opaque:
What was it like when you first got started and what, if anything, did it do for the particular scene you were a part of?
We started in Todd’s bedroom. We were a great band yet completely ignored. Our first show was at a frat, and they hated us. It didn’t get much better after that.
The inattention received by my groundbreaking band is part of the reason I packed up and moved to California. Things got better for me there. People cared about music that wasn’t 12-bar blues or covers of the top ten. I never wanted to be a live jukebox. I’d rather work at McDonalds.
What was success like and what was it like to break out of the regional area?
The only “success” we had was making great music. We played to an average of 20 people at all 20 or so gigs we did, total. And most of the people at those shows were the friends and girlfriends of the band.
We played a few out-of-town gigs: DC, Richmond and Norfolk, but always playing with hardcore bands. The audiences were bigger, but still scratching their heads. Hardcore punkers, for all their posturing of being alternative, can often be as closed minded as frat boys who want to boogie and drink to roadhouse blues. They’re actually often the same people, with different haircuts.
Was there a lot of unity or rivalry amongst other bands when you started, and is that still around?
No rivalry at all. We were great friends with the Landlords, The Happy Flowers, 98 Colors, Rude Buddha, LCD, and all the other Ch’Ville bands that didn’t pander to the frat crowd. And I played guitar in the hardcore band, The Beef People, after their guitarist got kicked out of their all-boys boarding school for having a girl in his room.
All these bands were very different in style, but united in a “we’re all outcasts” kinda way. We shared equipment, booking contacts, rehearsal space, and more.
Baby Opaque put out one LP and one EP, and pressed a thousand of each. We probably sold less than half that. John Beers still has a big box of the LPs in his basement. You can buy both records online, when you can find them, for either 50 cents or 50 dollars. I’ve seen them go for both on different sites.
This year, when I put all the Baby Opaque stuff online for free at www.babyopaque.com , we got three times as many downloads in the first week as Baby Opaque has sold records in 21 years. And the music continues to get a lot of downloads.
When did you first become interested in music
I loved music since before I could talk. I wanted to be a rock star starting at age five, from seeing The Partridge Family on TV.
Was there much of a scene to support you when you got started?
The alternative scene in Ch’Ville was tiny, and we were all friends.
There was a zine called “Live Squid”. It was pretty nifty. I don’t remember a lot more. I was drunk. You might want to ask John Beers. He didn’t drink, and was a lot more of a fan than me. I had trouble paying attention to things that didn’t involve furthering my personal plans for world domination. Still do.
How did Bomb get started and were you guys comfortable with all the notoriety you were getting.
I was fed up with the lack of support for my music in Baby Opaque, and was also drinking a lot. I tried to kill myself and ended up in Blue Ridge Mental Hospital.
Right after I got out, I got a postcard from Jello Biafra asking me for a copy Baby Opaque’s EP. I’d never written him before, he wrote ME, and I was blown away. I moved to San Francisco as soon as I could sell all my possessions. (I found out later that as a compulsive-obsessive completist record collector, Jello wrote that same postcard to most of the bands that were ever reviewed in Maximum Rock ‘n’ Roll magazine.)
Also, I went to see Flipper in DC. We snuck backstage and asked them a lot of glowing questions. One of them finally said “You should get the hell out of here. But your girlfriend can stay.” I was impressed. I wanted to live in California and act like that.
I took a Greyhound bus to Frisko. I’d never been west of the Mississippi river. I took LSD three days in a row on the bus to “prepare” myself. Big mistake. I was a mess by the time I arrived.
I crashed on my one friend’s couch in Berkeley, commuted into the city daily on the subway to work as a bike messenger. I met Jay from Bomb in a bar when I was trying to sell him a Baby Opaque record to get beer money. We started talking, and jammed shortly after. It was magic.
We had something special, and it caught on quickly. Again, we weren’t hardcore but ended up playing a lot of hardcore shows, all over America and Europe, but we were so fucking good and the music was so aggressive that even though it wasn’t punk, punkers got it.
Bomb’s music is up at http://www.hitsofacid.com
What was your experience like with a major label with Bomb, and did it leave you bitter or disappointed?
Lol…the phrasing of the question makes me think you’ve heard me talk about this before. Or maybe you just know a lot of people who’ve been on major labels.
Warner Brothers signed about ten “alternative” bands around the same time they signed us (1990). They singed L7, Babes in Toyland, Flaming Lips, and some others that I, and history, can’t remember. It was typical corporate thinking that has been repeated since Thomas Edison first scratched a wax cylinder in 1877: “We don’t understand it, but the kids like to shimmy to it, so let’s throw it all against the wall and see what sticks.”
Apparently only the Flaming Lips stuck, because they’re the only band of those ten that still has a deal with Bugs Bunny.
Warner Brothers gave us a shitty deal. Our lawyer said it “looked like a 1965 Motown contract”.
We signed it anyway. When we started in 1986, there was no way in the world a band like us could have gotten signed. We didn’t change (other than getting better, putting out three albums - one ourselves, one on Boner Records, and one on Rough Trade – and touring incessantly), the industry changed. Nirvana and Jane’s Addiction went mega-platinum.
A manager from LA named Charley Brown contacted us. He had gotten Jane’s signed, so he had moxie in the biz. We figured “why not?” and signed with him, then with Warner Brothers.
WB put the record out, then promptly ignored us. They didn’t give us ANY tour support, didn’t help book a tour, wouldn’t give us a paltry five grand to make a video (Even when Kevin Kerslake, who’s done some of the biggest selling videos ever, lowered his price to that, because he was a fan). Warner Brothers didn’t even send out promo materials on time when WE booked our own damn tour. The promo packs often showed up the day we got there to play, far too late for the club to do anything with them. We still starved, and surprise surprise, the record tanked. WB dropped us, but didn’t bother to tell us we were dropped. We found out from our lawyer, who read it in a trade paper.
A lot of indie musicians rant endlessly about the problems of major labels without having any experience with them. I have experience. When I rant, you should believe what I say, because I’ve seen all sides of that rusty coin.
What are you up to now, is it the same as it was before?
I’ve kinda reinvented myself as a filmmaker, writer and podcaster. I still love to reach the world, but I like to get paid for it. But I still do a lot of stuff free, like this interview, because I enjoy it, and I’m honored that people ask my thoughts on things.
When I was in Bomb, I was really cocky, and it turned me into my own worst enemy. I can’t put all the blame on circumstance that we didn’t become as well known as the music deserved. I was a selfish shit, and people don’t like to work with those.
I’m still full of myself, but now I realize there’s other people in the world.
That said, a lot of what I do now is ignore the world. I’d say I’m about halfway to my lifetime goal of being famous while being left alone. I dig it.
I now treat people with respect, unless they fuck with me, then I show teeth, and use said teeth if needed. But for the most part I avoid daily contact with the world, and I’m very happy with that.
I’m married, very happily, and have made a “nest” for myself and my wife. We live in the sticks, an hour outside Los Angeles. Our house is comfy, quiet, secluded, and filled with cats, joy, and all the toys I need to get my thoughts out into the world, on a daily basis, forever.
I still play music, but only in my home. Usually as background or mood music for my films and other people’s films. I don’t tour, but when I do sit down to make some music, it’s often heard by more people than all my lifelong album sales combined.
I work at home, and the wife still has a day job. I have a five-year plan to get her to be able to retire and work at home, so we can just make love constantly, make art, laugh and pet the cats full time. She and I do voiceover, in our home studio. We love it, and have gotten some paid work doing that. She’s great at it. Our voiceover sites are here: http://www.michaeldeanvoice.com and http://www.debrajeandean.com
Six years ago I quit drinking, and drugging. That shit was getting in my way. It worked for a few decades, but I couldn’t sustain it, and it was getting worse.
My dear friend Brian Childers died of liver failure last month. I was in The Beef People and Bomb with him. We had similar drinking habits for a long time. I miss that guy, really hard.
Do you still keep in touch with your bandmates from Baby Opaque and Bomb and what are they up to?
I don’t talk to the drummer from Bomb. Last time we talked, a few years ago, he was a shit to me for no reason. I don’t need to take calls from drunks in the middle of the night who insult me just because they’re unhappy with the life they’ve created for themselves.
Jay and Doug from Bomb are menschs. I love those guys. They’re in Frisko, I’m in LA, but we chat on the phone and by e-mail often.
I had a lot of issues back in the day with Bomb’s manager, Charley Brown, but we’ve resolved them and chat on the phone often. I like him a lot. I even named one of my cats “Charley” after him.
I recently got in touch with Todd from Baby Opaque. Haven’t spoken in a while. He did come see “D.I.Y. OR DIE: How To Survive as an Independent Artist” http://www.diyordie.org when I showed it in a bar in Minneapolis when I toured with the film. Todd seemed happy and healthy. We’ve exchanged a few e-mails lately, but he’s a busy family guy.
Michael Bérubé from Baby Opaque has done quite well for himself, he’s a tenured English professor at Penn State. I love that guy and dig his mind. About once a month, we exchange about ten long, funny, smart e-mails each back and forth in the space of a day. He’s a genius.
I still talk to John Beers from the Landlords and Happy Flowers, He always sends me a Christmas card too. Sweet.
I’m really good friends with Charlie Kramer from the Landlords and Happy Flowers. We e-mail constantly and talk on the phone when we can. He’s now a government economist.
Rock on Pete. Thanks for asking, and I’m honored to answer.
Michael W. Dean
http://www.stinkfight.com