AW SHUCKS
Metro Times Cover Story June 2-8 1993
Royal Oak's Goober & the Peas Take a Careful, Savvy Approach To The Big Time
By Thom Jurek
The art critic Peter Schejeldahl once described an exhibit of Andy Warhol's paintings in this way: "It had the old sixties virtue...of a big, splashy stylistic idea, brought about in a big, splashy, completely self-confident manner...right on the pulse of certain changes in the culture."
That same quote could be used to describe the achievements of various rock and roll performers such as Gene Vincent and the Blue Caps, Little Richard, Alice Cooper, David Bowie as Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars, T.Rex, Slade, Roxy Music, Earth,Wind and Fire, Mott the Hoople, The New York Dolls, Parliament-Funkadelic, The Sensational Alex Harvey Band, the Sex Pistols, the Clash and many others. It could also be used, without a stretch, when speaking about Royal Oak's Goober and the Peas. Yes. Goober and the Peas.
Goober and the Peas have created an image straight out of the Warholian Pop Art marketing handbook. It takes many elements of American popular mythology--the Grand Ole Opry, cowboys in outrageously ugly clothes, snake oil salesmen, the two faces of Hank Williams (super courteous and down home, but with an extraordinary penchant for drugs, booze, guitars and funky Cadillacs)--and wraps them up in a seemingly absurd but remarkably poignant manner. It brings up many questions about the roots of Detroit's (and the metro area's) population and throws them out to their live audiences with plenty of hay and wry humor that most folks just plain don't get. It takes historical caricature, folklore, human oddity and humor, and filters them through a distinctly Detroit brand of rock and roll music.
"From the beginning we were enamored with the Grand Ole Opry guys and their clothes," says frontman Goober. "We thought they were cool, and so was the music of people that came out of there, people like Hank Williams, Johnny Cash...and since no one else was doing it, we took it for our own--and it wasn't to make fun of it or those people, either."
Indeed. One of the things that is seemingly so contradictory about Goober and the Peas is their image and the city they come from: The cowboy gear, the "aw-shucks-we're-just-bumpkins-from-the-turnip-truck-who'd-like-to-have-a-cuppa-coffee-and-set-a-spell" demeanor and the tunes that deal with good vs. evil grandpas, twisted love and substance abuse. But if one stops to think about Detroit and its people (which includes the suburbs, particularly the western ones), it is inhabited by many people who have family roots in Southern rural settings, who came here during WWII or in the auto industry's heyday to make a better life for themselves and their families. These people brought their southern hospitality and awe of the big city with them and wove it into the fabric of life that already existed here.
"People think that our image is inconsistent with Detroit, but if you really look at the Midwest and what makes it up, you'll see that it's not true." adds Junior, the band's lead guitarist. "The important thing to get across, is that the music is separate, it's serious and we're not a joke band. When we started we dug Hank, but also the Gun Club and the Velvet Underground, and that's what people don't get sometimes, that we're not some kind of cowpunk band or whatever, we're a rock and roll band."
Clearly, this is true. There are two distinct elements that make up Goober and the Peas: image and music, and the two are often in direct opposition to each other. What holds them together is a healthy deadpan wit and a developed sense of purpose to be a great rock band. Both are evident on the band's self-released The Complete Works of Goober and the Peas from Detroit Municipal Recordings. Produced by John Wesley Harding and recorded by Sean Slade and Paul Q. Kolderie at Fort Apache Studios in Boston, and by Dave Feeny at the Tempermill, the hour-long album contains songs that range in tone and color form country ("Consider Me") to fractured dance workouts ("Funky Cowboy") to rock anthems ("Hot Women [Cold Beer])", to more "alternative"-flavored gems such as "My Own Best Friend," and the downright spooky, "Don't Be Afraid."
Remarkably, for all it's diversity, The Complete Works isn't a mess, it's a wonderfully varied, well-sequenced and executed rock and roll album that blends these many influences with the aggressive, go-for-it spirit of the best of Detroit rock, from the Stooges and the MC5 to the Gories and Rocket 455. The reason for that diversity isn't exactly clear but no one can argue with success--the record has sold over 10,000 copies all over the country and has been reviewed in many major industry publications. Their video, which has been shown on MTV, entered the CMJ video chart at # 17 with a bullet.
"The record is diverse," muses Goober, "but it's sort of funny--the reason we don't write just one kind of music, is that we can't."
"Yeah," agrees Junior. "Whenever we try to go for a particular style, it never works out that way. We couldn't sit down to write a country song, and not have it come out a funk tune. It's best just to see what comes up between Goober and I, and then show it to Hoss, Shorty, and Doc (on bass, rhythm guitar, and drums respectively). We try out a lot of stuff in rehearsal that never gets to the stage, which is where we decide what gets recorded."
The stage as a proving ground is also important to Goober and the Peas. The band tours almost constantly in an RV they call "Mallard." They have made their mark not only in the Midwest (which , as one might suspect, is the band's stronghold), but also in the East (garnering favorable press and record sales form New York and Philadelphia), the South (from Florida to Athens, Georgia, where R.E.M. caught the band's set and loved it), and in Austin, Texas, where they took South By Southwest, the annual industry music conference, by storm. Currently, Goober and the Peas are making their way west on a six-week tour.
"Touring, for us, is not only the way we spread the word, but it's something we enjoy doing," says Goober. "We get to meet and hang out with a lot of musicians that we dig, like the Poster Children and Uncle Tupelo, and let's face it, it was really great to have Michael Stipe and Mike Mills at a show of ours. We are building a following the old-fashioned way, by touring and recording on our term, and being sure our image and music get across the way we want them to."
Getting their image and music across involves a number of antics that reveal the band's wacky intelligence. One such incident took place at a recent Blind Pig show, where the Peas played a Van Halen cover near the end of their standard two-hour set. The over-capacity crowd ate it up, yelling for more, with chants of "Van Halen, Van Halen." When the tune was over, Goober, in his slow, courteous drawl, told the crowd: "I'm glad you all liked that one...I'm glad you got it--because we sure didn't." The crowd cheered like hell anyway.
With all the touring, rave press notices and record sales, an interesting question gets raised: In an age when bands are signing major-label record deals after a singe or two on an independent, or in a few cases after issuing a demo tape, why haven't Goober and the Peas inked the big deal yet?
"It's not that there hasn't been interest," explains Junior. "We have been talking to A&R types, lawyers and management companies all along. There are a number of labels and management agencies who have offered us deals, but we didn't take them because we felt, as a band, that these people didn't understand us."
"A lot of people either wanted us to change this or that, or thought that we should capitalize on the 'novelty' of our act before it was too late," explains Goober. "In other words, they just didn't get it. We are very serious about our image, and the way we come across. We want to remain absolutely in control of it, and not have it exploited or misrepresented. Our distribution company, Caroline (the biggest of all independent distributors and labels), wants to sign us now, but we want to wait and see what happens, and the majors have been looking at us for a long time, but no offer has been quite right."
Are these guys for real? Do they know how many bands would sign on the dotted line right away? Are they holding out for big cash that may or may not arrive if they wait too long?
"A lot of bands do sign, get big advances and end up in the hole for the rest of their lives," says Junior. "We don't want to get sucked into that and become just another casualty of the hype machine that the music business has become. We do well touring and merchandising; we make a living. Maybe we'll even do another record on our own, and license it to someone when it's time, but we're very careful."
This do-it-yourself spirit is indicative of the way the culture surrounding punk rock conducted itself in the very beginning: a healthy suspicion of the music industry, combined with a solid work ethic and the determination to control your own destiny. Is this akin to the glitzy Warhol marketing method of creating a big noise by yourself? Goober and Junior see it this way:
"Punk rock was a big influence on everybody doing this," offers Goober. "At first it taught people to think for themselves. And I can see the Warhol thing in us because it wasn't that different; it was about presenting yourselves on your own terms, and having people react to that."
"Right," agrees Junior. "We take our music seriously and we want people to take it that way, and our image is crafted seriously, but we aren't serious about being cowboys or anything--the image is supposed to be humorous. That's the whole point. We don't want one side or the other to take precedence over the other, but to be equal."
"I mean, how great is it, that this band of goofy-looking guys plays good rock and roll," says Goober. "That's the thing that makes people connect with you; the image gets them, and the music keeps them coming back."