The band's name is Phillips Head, like the screwdriver, but, pardon the expression, they're not screwing around. Phillips Head formed in 1994 as a four-piece cover band. Evolving through a few different permutations, they're down now to a three-piece "powerhouse," they say, and the emphasis is mostly on hard work and original songs.
This Friday night, they're releasing their debut CD - an original piece of work, self-titled, that took over a year to complete - with a slam-band release party in Heritage Hall of the Glens Falls Civic Center. Lots of bands have CD release parties. These guys are looking to create something people will remember.
"We don't want to call it a circus," one of the band members says, "but we're thinking of having live dancers..." The others chime in: "...clowns, fire-eaters, contortionists."
One says, "People might be asking: 'What is this Phillips Head?' They're gonna know after Sept. 19."
"And in style," his bandmates add.
The guys in the band are Jason Irwin, 25, from South Glens Falls, on lead vocals and guitar; Steve Graves, 26, a Glens Falls native, on bass and vocals; and Benny - just Benny - age unrevealed, from Fort Edward.
Irwin, the lead singer, was voted "most musical" in his high school graduating class. He's like his own alter-ego, very handsome ("like James Dean," one woman in the Chronicle office commented), with salt-and-pepper hair cropped close on the sides and a long blonde mop sprouting up wildly from the top of his head. He produced and financed the band's CD, and is the acknowledged leader of the three.
Did he say, 'For the chicks'?
At one moment, he's talking about how the band works hard to put on a professional-quality show for its concerts, cutting into their own pay by hiring warm-up bands and technical support people, even dancers.
He'll talk about how writing the songs is only a small piece of the work that goes into producing a CD - the recording sessions were held exactly a year before the album was finally ready for release - or how important it is to build a following and keep up a newsletter.
In the next breath he'll tell you, only half joking, "I'm in it for the chicks."
He's got star quality, and he knows it. "I do enjoy the social aspects of being in a rock band, being a star. When I first got involved, I thought I'd be on MTV in a year. At first I was in it for the chicks, but now maybe it's something more serious. I like being the life of the party, in a professional way, on stage, now."
Benny used to own The Villager, a music club in Fort Edward, and played with the drum corps The Vagabonds when he was a teen-ager, as well as the rock bands Violation, Mischief, and Hooligan. He says, "I'd like to do this for a living: talk to people, play music. I'm pretty confident that it will someday be an occupation, not a hobby."
"But none of us is star-stricken," Graves, who taught himself guitar and bass as a high-schooler, adds. "We all like playing. Music has always been an important part of my life."
They're not quitting their day jobs yet.
Graves, dark and trim, a former power-lifter, works for Coneco Litho Graphics, after having spent a number of years working retail. He notes that retail sales experience - they all have some - is very helpful to them in the music business, because they understand how to work with customers.
Benny, who looks like a regular (if slightly spacey) guy, and who has the air of someone on the verge of mischief, sells tickets at the Trailways station in Glens Falls. It's a job that makes him and his bandmates laugh - it sounds like something from a slacker movie - but he says he loves it.
Irwin works for his family's business, Tee Bird Country Club. He compares himself to Batman, a quiet golf course worker by day, outgoing rock and roll star by night.
The music
The migration toward playing original music has its rewards, but it is not all smooth sailing. "People want you to sing certain songs," Irwin says of the live shows. "Freebird!" Benny exclaims, mimicing a voice from the crowd.
Still, "There's nothing like writing your own music, and performing up on stage," says Graves. "And then having the people sing along, dancing." Irwin adds.
They pride themselves on their high-energy live shows and loyal fans.
Their New CD
What's on the CD? "You might like it or you might not," Graves says, "But you'll definitely remember it."
He's right. The songs, all written by Irwin (Though Graves, who also taught himself music theory, does write for the band, too) are catchy, with a good, danceable beat.
They're all - save one - about girls. Benny got the joke when I asked them about that: "Our next album will be about cars."
Much to the band's delight, "Beer-Chuggin' Barbie Doll" got its first radio airply this week on FM station Hot 107.1.
"I'm looking for a girl/That has no intention other to please me..." Irwin sings on that one, backed by a snappy drum beat. "Somewhere there's got to be/A do-nothin' beer-chuggin' barbie doll for me," he whips out in high-speed lyrics.
Politically correct they're not, and the grammar is pretty chancy too. But the songs, that one included, are clever. There's "Chunky Chunky Baby," a boppy tune about a fat girlfriend, and "Drive-Thru Girl," about falling for the girl at the fast-food window ( "I'D ORDER THE WORLD FOR MY DRIVE-THRU GIRL," the chorus yells), and "Damaged Goods," about the girlfriend who cheated.
The most complimentary song, "Plain Jane," is about a soulful girl who doesn't say anything. Or, the song asks, is she "stuck-up, pissed off, recovering from a root canal or just plain shy?"
Sexist? Definitely. "But they're not literal," Graves explains. "It's funny, but he really appreciates her," he says of the narrator's "chunky" girlfriend. Not exactly deep, that, and you hope at least that all the "girl" and "chick" stuff is tongue-and-cheek.
What stands out with these three musicians is their easy if bantering relationship with each other. "We don't go bowling together," Irwin remarks. "But I spend more time with them than with my family," says Graves, the only one of the three who's married.
They practice in a cramped, rented room, sometimes into the late hours of the night. They've chosen jobs partly for the flexibility to play weekend gigs, rather than the great pay. The band is down to three solid members because they're the ones willing to stick with it, they say.
A lot of musical talent is wasted, Irwin notes. "So many good musicians are always changing bands, or just playing for their girlfriend."
The CD they're releasing now was recorded a year ago, and they say they're ready now with material, if not the cash, for a new one. With the CD, the party, other gigs coming up - and some radio play - Irwin says, "We have a lot of momentum." "This is the cream of the crop," Steve adds, unselfconsciously, about the threesome.