MANHATTAN. Thirty degrees outside, a wind-chill factor of 20. Judging from Orgy’s pallid appearance, these Southern California natives have been getting as little sun as the swaddled New Yorkers and tourists thawing at nearby tables in the restaurant of the Loews New York Hotel. With three good months’ worth of rest and rehearsals under their belts, though, Orgy are prepared for the month-long tour ahead—except for the fact that half of the band are fighting colds and they all forgot to bring winter jackets. Apart from the occasional L.A. show, the last time Orgy played in public was at MTV’s “Fashionable Loud Miami” in December under a blue South Beach sky, their performance was attended by models and shirtless frat guys. It was and idyllic ending to what was by no means an easy opening slot on Korn’s Family Values tour.
Guitarist Ryan Shuck, six-foot-something tall, with spiky blonde hair and an expulsive talking style, remembers the crowd at Family Values: “They were there to see Korn, but they were respectful. I’m not gonna say everyone liked us, but that tour was awesome. Korn, Rammstein, Limp Bizkit—the lineup made a nice curve, and we fir right in there. We’d have what we thought was a bad show, and [Korn guitarist] Munky would say, ‘What? Man, people were liking you. People were throwing knives at us at one of our shows.’ That would make me feel so much better. They were so cool for taking us out. They were so, like, big brothers to us.”
In more ways than one. Orgy were the first act signed to Elementree, Korn’s Warner Bros.-distributed imprint. Since then the reviews of the bands debut album, Candyass, have been positive for the most part, although some writers have speculated on how the deal came to be in the first place. While many bands, including Korn, tour for years, slowly building up a loyal fan base, Orgy’s experience has been virtually the opposite. The have never toured prior to Family Values. A four-song demo basically locked the record deal for them. And to top it off, their breakout single, a crunched-up cover of New Order’s 80’s hit “Blue Monday,” wasn’t even one they wrote.
It’s one thing when newly formed bands are signed to a same record label, but when they are backed up by WB millions, people start thinking in terms of conspiracies. Orgy are, after all, managed by the same company that represents, along with Korn and Ice Cube, the Backstreet Boys. Whether Orgy formed with marketing in mind, the fact still remains that they get as much press about their hair and their clothes as they do about their sound. You can’t help wondering what’s behind the make-up.
In a recent interview with Guitar magazine, Korn guitarist James “Munky” Shaffer explained why his band started their own label: “You have to think like a businessman if you want to retire nicely and or have a family.” Korn singer Jonathan Davis has said of Orgy, “They’re fashionable pretty dudes, so all the chicks will dig ‘em. And they’re really heavy, so hopefully a lot of our friends will too.” Orgy’s road manager, Scott Patterson, offers a bit of wisdom: “There’s and old rock adage: Bring the girls, and the guys will follow.” Taken together it sounds like a solid business plan. But Orgy aren’t simply some out-of-nowhere New Kids On The Block-type project dressed up by stylists for hire.
“I was always a fashion bitch,” says Gordon. “I wore more make-up than my mother.”
“I used to be hairdresser,” adds Shuck. “I’ve been musically influenced by fashion, and fashion is musically influenced. I need all of it to exist.”
“People say we’re the band born with the silver spoon in it’s mouth,” says bassist Paige Haley, “but we’ve all been working our asses off for a long time.”
In fact, each of the guys has been active on the L.A. scene for at least a decade, and they’ve all either known one another for a while or previously played in bands together. Drummer Bobby Hewitt played in a Red Hot Chile Peppers-type band called the Electric Love Hogs. Gordon and synth guitarist Amir Derakh produced Coal Chamber’s debut album. Derakh even gained some notoriety in the ‘80s as guitarist for the hair-metal band Rough Cutt. And Shuck played with Jonathan Davis in the pre-Korn band Sex Art, and with Davis co-wrote Korn’s “Blind.” Davis also sings on Orgy’s “Revival.”
So, have Orgy’s members finally found their musical calling? Or have they made some secret pact to claim they’ve been blessed by a stylistic synergy? I ask Derakh whether he would have cited Dead or Alive’s Youthquake as his all-time favorite album (as he did in a recent Guitar World interview) when he was in Rough Cutt, and he answer immediately: “Totally. I remember that it came out when I was on tour with Rough Cutt.”
Gordon pipes in, “He was more of a super-goth guy back in those days.”
If there’s one thing the band members share form their past, it’s an enthusiasm for two of the more palatable groups of the ‘80s: Duran Duran and the Cure. Orgy’s current listening tastes are more electronic, though. Gordon grooves to a lot of drum & bass, while Shuck is hot on Aphex Twin. Haley, who looks more like Robert Smith than anyone else in the band lights up when Nirvana comes on MTV.
Although seemingly disconnected, these influences have all contributed to Orgy’s effort at innovation. It’s a style that Haley’s described as “death pop”: a blend of synthesized atmospherics, melodic vocal lines, mechanical beats and heavy guitars digitized to an almost unrecognizable wash of fuzz. But the effort’s not as rigid and computerized as one might think: In concert Orgy play everything live, and their sound comes across as more of an organic swell than it does robotic programming.
“No bands take the chance we do live,” claims Gordon, “especially with technology. We don’t use computers. My drummer will fire off a loop on a pad, and it’s all in time—and that’s hard to do. We take a huge chance with it every time we go on stage.”
For some Korn fans it may have been just a little to creative. Gordon recalls a few of the projectiles launched at the band during their set: “I took a Tootsie Pop in the knee cap. Someone threw a Skoal container at me in Nebraska. I also got hit with a water bottle.”
Shuck adds, “We both got hit with water bottles the same evening...”
“...By some very handsome young men from somewhere in North Dakota,” says Gordon.
“I think it was water-bottle day at the stadium,” quips Haley.
“Dude,” says Shuck, “full water bottles are as bad as a beer bottle. They have a nice hand-grenade-like impact.”
A lot has happened since then, though—namely “Blue Monday.” Orgy’s video for the song is a glammed-up alien-abduction fantasy, all green-ooze injections and cruelly beautiful models. The clip was recently ranked No. 7 on MTV’s “Total Request Live,” a program where viewers phone in to vote for their favorite video to air.
“Dude, they’re going totally schizoid on it,” says Shuck.
As if to underscore how much has changed since the days before “Blue Monday,” the waiter, unaware of the topic of conversation, brings us our bill—on top of which he places a handful of Tootsie Pops, kindly steering clear of Gordon’s knee cap.
LATER, while we’re in a limousine snaking our way through midtown en route to sound check, the guys mock-insult one another’s ethnicity: Persian Derakh is the “Turbanator”; while someone suggests that Hewitt (Fernandez before he married porn star Shane and took her last name) get tortillas with his brunch instead of toast. I ask Gordon about his background and he tells me Creole: French, Spanish, black, Scottish, Irish. Then, for the first time all day, he bristles. “Why this interesting?” He looks out the window, points at a bus that’s cruising through traffic and asks: “Is that person interesting? Or that person? Do you want to know about that person?”
I’m sure they are interesting, I tell him. Maybe I would like to know more about them, but that’s not my assignment.
“What’s important [to me] is that you give away all your emotion in the music,” says Gordon.
“Mystery is as important as what you see. Isn’t it kind of cool when you are hanging out with a girl and she’s keeping something back? I love the mystery. Females are the best at keeping it veiled—don’t you think? Getting to deep into the personal aspects keeps away the mystery.”
It’s a rare and mildly defensive moment in our time together. Mystery is important to Gordon. While the other members of the band speak more readily about their personal lives, Gordon is more guarded in his responses. Like so many frontmen, Gordon plays the role of the band spokesman, but reluctantly, At one point, when I ask about Orgy’s songwriting process, Gordon says, “Whatever. A whole lot of whatever on that one. I’m sure everybody would like to say whatever on that one. Let’s just leave it at that.”
But Hewitt needs to make a point: “I think that most of the initial stuff comes from Jay, and him hearing vocals in his head, having an idea of how far it’s supposed to go with the guys.”
The Gordon loosens up: “And Bobby’ll put in drum beats, or Paige’ll be playing a bunch of guitar parts on a machine, and it’ll turn into a song. I’d love to be all mysterious about it, and that’s why I said the whatever factor. But it’s really more calculated than that.”
Despite their motives and intentions, what else are pop stars but a focal point for fans projections? Gordon seems sensitive to this and makes efforts to keep the band enigmatic, as if he wants people to perceive Orgy as they appear in the video for “Blue Monday”: aliens hatching fully formed from pods on a space station that’s floating above the earth. In reality the band are a considerate bunch: all please and thank yous, and God bless yous if someone sneezes. And apart form Gordon, who is at fist reluctant to speak about certain subjects, they’re loquacious, exhibiting a filial camaraderie and a self-depreciating sense of humor. Their verbal sparring centers around party endurance, around sexuality, around race, around posture. One minute they’ll be good-naturedly insulting one another; the next they’ll be painting one another’s nails.
The limo dispenses the band onto the sidewalk in front of Irving Plaza in full make-up: white foundation, black eyeliner, silvery lipstick. With their standard-issue four-inch-heel creepers on, Orgy now look even larger than larger than life. A pack of teenagers waits outside, and the band oblige their fans’ requests, signing autographs and patiently posing for snapshots. “You guys are going to give me a cold,” says Gordon, stooping down to wrap his arms around two smiling fans, just before pouting for the camera.
Inside the venue, two 15-year-old New Jerseyites, Melody and Kaila, sheepishly approach the band. “I love you guys,” says Melody. Kaila tells me she also likes Limp Bizkit and Korn. “I’d never get the Backstreet Boys’ autograph,” she says. When I inform her that “Blue Monday” is a cover, it doesn’t faze her. She tells me why she likes Orgy: “I like their hair,” she says. “They’re cool, they make good music. They dress cool, and they’re cute.” The girls clutch their freshly signed 8x10 glossies and grin widely at having met these aliens who’ve landed out of nowhere, bringing mystery to their gray and lifeless planet.
EVEN though they’d picked up survival-weight parkas in SoHo this afternoon, Orgy are looking even paler then they had at the hotel. It’s all the foundation that they’ve dusted themselves with in preparation for the show. Inside the dressing room, Shuck, Haley and Gordon jump up and down to loosen their calf muscles. Derakh mills around adjusting the Velcro straps on his black vinyl safety vest. Hewitt sit quietly. Unable to remain still, Shuck ducks out to case the scene on the floor and returns 20 minutes later amazed at the response from the fans. “It’s totally crazy out there. I’ve never seen them like this before. They’re all talking to me at once.”
Though the dressing room walls, the sold out crowd can be heard chanting, “Orgy! Orgy! Orgy!”
Derakh cracks, “At least someone knows us.”
Hewitt shakes his head. “I’m so bummed, I wish I felt better.”
Once onstage, Gordon sings the existential hook to “Blue Monday,” asking “How should I feel?” of the screaming teenagers. The crowd reacts so furiously to the anthemic query that the floor seems in danger of buckling. A speaker column tilts dangerously from the tectonic swell; a barrier leans forward, almost toppling, until the crowd rights it’s self. In front, rosy-cheeked girls press up against the stage, beatific looks on their faces, hands outstretched, mouthing the words along with Gordon. Fifty yards back an all male mosh pit rages. Occasional crowd surfers are pushed to the forward until they reach the security moat, where guards pull them down and funnel them back into the breach.
All though the show, the sound is bottom-heavy enough to keep the boys thrashing, while the band is pretty enough to keep the girls screaming. “How should I feel?” Gordon asks again, and the crowd seemingly responds with it’s collective catharsis “However we want you to feel.”
Backstage after the set, Shuck, the band’s clothing optional member, lounges around in his red bikini briefs, letting them air out after the sweaty performance. He goes off with the mechanical insistence of a smoke alarm: “Beer. Beer. Beer. Beer.” Then: “Have you ever head the ‘me’ alarm? ‘Me. Me. Me. Me.’” As the emotional barometer for the band, Shuck displays his relief this way.
“It doesn’t get any better than that.” says tour manager Patterson. “That was the highlight.”
“It was cool,” says Derakh, “They knew all the words to our songs, I’ve never seen that before.”
Haley looks satisfied. Hewitt shakes his head, again lamenting his cold. Gordon simply says, with an earnest grin “That was cool.”
THE CROWD had wanted to touch Orgy, and even if they hadn’t gotten to, it was clear that Orgy touched them. On the official Web site (www.orgymusic.com), the electronic bulletin board virtually sweats with such hormonal adoration (I love Paige!!” “I want Jay to fuck the piss out of me!”), leavened by the occasional post from killjoys, reminding youngsters that “Blue Monday” is a cover, and claiming that Orgy’s success will fade quickly.
And the fans write back: “I agree Orgy will have their day’s limit, but so did New Order. They’re old—get over it; so they were influential—i had never even heard of them ‘til Orgy’s revise.” And: “Their lyrics are truly meaningful and very easy to relate to. Not only is their music great, but they have to be the nicest guys i have ever seen. They are making the biggest impact on my life. They have changed me completely inside and out.
Of course Orgy are aware of the fickleness of fandom and its attendant unpredictability. Fans move on from lusting after their idols to having real sex. They move on to different bands. In a phrase: They grow up.
But that’s something for critics to ponder. In the meantime, Orgy have free underwear to score. At the photo shoot, their road manger is on the phone with Calvin Klein, placing orders for the band. “What are those ones that run down your thigh?” asks Gordon.
“They’re called boxer-briefs,” Hewitt says.
“I want those new ones,” says Shuck, flipping though a fashion magazine. “The charcoal colored ones. Charcoal’s cool. You can grill on it.”
They’re making the most of it. Shuck and Gordon recently posed for a Calvin Klein jeans campaign that will appear on bill boards and at bus stops worldwide in June. Even though the band’s average age floats somewhere around 30, they’re old enough to have diversification on their minds. Shuck says that while he’s a fashion whore, ideally he’d like to be wearing his own clothing designs. Gordon and Derakh will certainly continue to produce.
Hewitt gives his personal perspective on the band. “I’ll be totally honest: I’m not playing in this band just because I love playing drums. I mean obviously I do. But I’m doing this because this a corporation; a full-blown thing that’s going to be generating opportunities. Look at all these artists like Puff Daddy. He’s producing movies, writing jingles. If you can branch out in the right directions, it’s endless what you can do.
FLASH BACK to earlier in the day, before Orgy had gotten a taste of what a hit single can do to 1000 screaming teenagers. Derakh, Gordon and Shuck make their way over to MTV to make a special guest appearance on “Total Request Live.” While they wait in the Green room, a monitor plays the show as it’s being taped. Carson Daly, the shows host interviews a good-looking band who are dressed up in the uniforms of various cute-boy archetypes. One guy has a Marky Mark face and muscles and wears a camouflage tank top; a swarthy type sports a goatee and is dressed in black leather; while an apple-cheeked homeboy slouches, nearly lost in his baggy street gear.
“They’re all buff,” says Shuck. “They’re are the only bunch of faggot little guys who’ll punch you in the face.”
“I’ll beat that whole band’s ass single-handedly,” Gordon says, pointing to the screen. One member of the boy band cracks a bad joke. Gordon continues, “Yeah, you gotta have a sense of humour to be in ‘N Sync.”
Shuck says, “You know the guy who invented this band said, ‘Let’s get a Trent Reznor guy, a Sugar Ray guy and a Korn guy...’ I’ll be cool to everyone, but this is hard.”
Daly introduces the band as one of the hottest guy groups around: Fresh Step.
“Isn’t that kitty litter?” Gordon asks.
“Hey, we’re a guy group,” Shuck challenges.
Daly asks Fresh Step where their fans are, noting that on their recent “Total Request Live” appearance Korn brought thousands of fans to throng the streets outside the studio. The camera cuts to the street: nothing but pedestrians going about their business.
Shuck, not knowing quite where in the public’s eye Orgy rank between Korn and Fresh Step, says, “Carson just dissed them in his cool way. Carson’s cool; Carson’s our bro. He better not dis us.
Fresh Step then sing a painfully earnest a-cappella bit form a song, and the monitor cuts to a gaggle of kids on the street outside the studio. One of them holds up a sign that reads “I Love MTV Fresh Step and Orgy.”
“Oh my god!” says Derakh.
“That’s not going to be on TV, is it?” asks Shuck.
“I bet it will be,” says Derakh.
“I think I’m gonna have to do drugs tonight,” says Shuck. “Oh, I need a beer so bad. Dude, this is giving me a anxiety attack. I’m fucking having a beer.”
A production assistant ducks in at this point and watches a retake of the Fresh Step segment. She informs the band that Fresh Step are just an invention of the writers at The Late Show with David Letterman, and that MTV is just playing along. Watching the segment a second time, everyone laughs more easily. They are relieved. Fresh Step is a joke—but Orgy isn ' t.
- Hugh Garvey