``Overunderneath'' is cleanly produced, upbeat, overwhelmingly passionate
and even ethereal--think intelligent adult pop for the next millennium.
If the album isn't busy rolling you over with emotional intensity and soaring
melodies, then there are surreal moments to mind trip around in, or quirky,
avant-funk grooves to bounce to. They manage to do their thing with both
a firm sense of beauty and an intriguing spirit of experimentalism. Mostly,
the CD explodes with feeling, smothered in psychedelic and acoustic-edged
textures, coming up somewhere between U2, Peter Gabriel and Elephant Ride.
The album opens up with some freaky poetry (a la Jim Morrison) cutting straight
into the dizzying intensity of "Crawl," with its weird, floating
bass line and crushing polyrhythms. From there, the album sky rockets into
the emotional stratosphere, dives into some gorgeous, lush ballads, then
alternately toys with the groove thang and good-trip vibes.
Dizzyfish could well be among the best (and most overlooked) bands this
region has ever seen, and this album almost goes overboard proving it.
There's more coming out of Bend, Oregon than winter-sports entrepreneurs, rednecks and big-haired women with excessive, artificial suntans. Take Dizzyfish, for example. They are a foursome whose sound is as open and fresh as the area from which they hail - although they recently made the big move to Portland, Oregon. In their own distinctive way, they take as many chances as any city-slicker slack-rock outfit which may now be among their peers.
This kind of chance-taking seems to be paying off. South of Portland, in places like Bend, Salem and Corvallis, the band has a huge following which in some instances borders on the fanatical. In Portland, it's a bit more subdued, partially because they're new to the area. But even there the momentum is picking up steadily, and the press throughout Oregon - in Eugene, Portland, Salem and Corvallis - has frothed at the mouth over them in numerous instances.
The future whispers good, happy things about Dizzyfish.
There is no ``hipper than thou'' stance smothering this hidden gem of Oregon's, and Dizzyfish is no dark, experimental ensemble addled with dysfunction whose individuals dwell on drug abuse and spoiled relationships for song inspiration. Instead, Dizzyfish put their necks on the line by making pleasant, passionate and extremely hummable music in a world that might view that as a weakness.
``I don't think it matters if we fit in,'' says vocalist Matt Curl. ``We can't play biker bars, and that's a good thing. But I think people like to hear music that's melodic and spiritual and has a lot of passion. That's really missing these days. There's a lot of darkness and angst out there - so much heavy stuff. I think it's important for people to hear a more positive side of something that's not all ups or all downs.''
Their music often has shades of U2 grandeur, while leaning heavily on acoustic textures, polyrhythms, melody and intriguing playing by guitarist Chris Hayes that alternates between beautiful, pristine cascades, hard rocking funk and strangely alien. There are plenty of moments Hayes sounds like Robert Fripp, utilizing long, luscious sustains and managing to be both cerebral and pretty.
Bassist Matt Rogers, too, walks an interesting line between experimentalism and poppy groove. His thickly textured bass lines often use multiple harmonics and melodic or chordal lines which impose themselves gracefully into the rest of the arrangement, assuming the unusual role of acting as another guitar, as a lead instrument and yet as one which starkly grounds the outfit's raging polyrhythmic machine over the top of Jake Endicott's inventive drumming.
``I've never believed the bass should just be a bass,'' Rogers said. ``I like to use it like a guitar or a lead instrument sometimes.''
Most of all, the world of Dizzyfish is a strongly multileveled one: The music works on a variety of levels, each existing separately and evenly, easily pinpointed by any listener and yet always meshing flawlessly into one, large, onrushing wall of aesthetic exhilaration.
These elements seem to be the three E's: Emotionalism, Experimentalism and danceable Energy. Dizzyfish's music, often containing vastly diverse elements from bands such as Sarah McLachlan, Talking Heads, James, Pink Floyd, U2 and They Might Be Giants, mixes fun with soaring beauty, intellect, surrealism and hummability.
Several reviewers have portrayed the band as paradoxically having distinct, recognizable elements of all these bands, and yet somehow being able to churn them all out into Dizzyfish's own, unique and highly individualistic blend.
Rogers admits these elements are often the primary components in what they do, but he's careful to point out the balance they try to achieve.
``We love to experiment, but not so much we'll alienate the audience,'' Rogers said. ``We're not just experimental or just poppy and danceable. That's just some of what we do. We do a lot of things. We like to be able to have the audience relate to us and get up and dance. But on the other hand, we have this need to do something different too.''
In the beginning, Dizzyfish's sound grew out of the band's initial gigs in coffee houses, where the band was forced to perform rather softly as an acoustic unit. Dizzyfish's first CD, 1994's ``Caddywhompus,'' shows a band slowly moving away from all that, struggling a bit with the new identity and referencing U2 more than a few times. But their latest, 1997's ``Overunderneath,'' exhibits a much more mature band rocketing into the emotional and intellectual stratosphere, retaining many of the U2 references but processing these and many other things into a heady and extremely varied stylistic feast.
``We didn't start out trying to be influenced by U2,'' Curl explains. ``It's just what we all loved. Chris' playing has a lot of blues influence, and so he was kind of alternating between that and something kind of like The Edge. Now, he's just doing some cool shit - some really avant-garde stuff.
``We're getting heavier, but I get really upset when I see a bunch of fucked up drunks just freaking out `cause that's all they care about,'' he continues. ``They're not listening to the music. They don't care about what we're doing. I don't think we were meant for life in the bars. We just don't have a bar sound.''
What Dizzyfish do have is the uncanny ability to appeal to an enormous age range, drawing in folks in their twenties up to baby boomers. Their fanbase is among the most fiercely devoted in the state, and it's not unusual to find folks from as far away as Bend showing up for a Portland show or even one at the coast.
Still, having come from Bend carries a bit of a stigma, especially considering the band has only concentrated on its career in the last year or so of its eight-year existence and is more or less regarded as a newcomer by Portlanders.
``It's interesting, Bend is starting to come into its own a bit,'' Curl suggests. ``But it's hard, because you can't really make connections like in bigger cities. People sometimes think you're a novelty. `You're from a hick town but you're not rednecks and you don't play country music? Why not?' People can laugh all they want. Especially if we're successful at this.''
Amusingly enough, at the time of this first interview, Curl periodically inserts chewing tobacco into his cheek as he talks, doing little to shake any backwoodsy images which might've popped up. Although later the next year, Curl would rid himself of that habit.
But not before he would eventually turn the band inside out for about a year - just as it would be hitting some incredible new heights.
Curl, also an accomplished thespian, won a prestigious acting scholarship to a big, high-profile university in Iowa in 1997. Before 1997, the band had labored in relative obscurity, and Curl was forced to reevaluate what he wanted to do with his life. But that year fans and regional press abruptly took major notice of the band, just as Curl was making one of the biggest decisions of his life. It was a tad bit late, however, and Curl opted for acting college. Yet only weeks before his departure in August 1997, ``Overunderneath'' was released and Dizzyfish fever really took hold on Oregon fans.
The end of the band at this integral point was met with disbelief and even grief by many of its seriously devoted following. Its ``last show'' at Independence club Lenora's Ghost that August showed a crowd intensely enamored of the band and tuned into every nuance of that performance.
Salem resident Rem Nivens used to live in Bend and knew two of Dizzyfish's members there. That night, he was certainly among their more faithful fans, and he too expressed a great deal of emotion at this sad occasion - sentiments which were quite typical of the crowd that night.
``The band's hiatus is extremely unfortunate,'' Nivens said. ``If their new album was just an average album, I might feel differently.
``I wasn't sure if I could stay for the whole thing. That last show was very personal, and watching it wasn't easy. If they don't come back together and play again, we will lose a treasure.''
Band members had some trouble convincing others - and themselves - that this was simply their last show for a while. But the band's sound man and close friend, Monmouth resident Jason Wade, said this show - as well as a highly successful one the night before in Portland - helped convince the band this could not be their last.
``I know that there are shows planned in January,'' Wade said at the time. ``I know that Matt doesn't really want to go, but he knows he has to go and find out what this is all about. Personally, I think it's a good possibility he'll come back in about two months.''
Although it took much longer than two months, within a year Curl proved you can't keep a good fish down.
The resulting bitter disappointment and sadness among fans and the other three members slowly turned to elation, and their initial shows in the summer of `98 - a year after the release of ``Overunderneath'' - proved they were still a hot commodity. Gigs on the Oregon coast and Salem created quite a stir for them, not only demonstrating how many out-of-town fans still show up for gigs but grabbing numerous new converts as well.
They weren't able to slip right back into the old high gear of the prior summer, however, and it left the foursome somewhat depressed for awhile.
``We knew it wasn't going to be easy to get back right away,'' said Curl. ``And it's hard right now, but it's a good kind of hard work feeling. We're excited. But we've got a lot of work ahead. It's just a transition period, and changing gears can be difficult.''
The strongest elements of Dizzyfish's multileveled music remained, but they were adding a new kind of surrealism to their bag of tricks. Yet it was still their penchant for being emotionally affecting which was grabbing people, especially with song such as ``Ghost Dance'' and ``Separate.''
It's these elements of Dizzyfish's music which - along with its uproarious comedic tendencies while on stage - seem to be causing the biggest stir in Portland. They are one tight, slick machine, with groove, fun, melody and most of all, emotion, oozing out of every musical phrase.
Their songs' emotional content promises to be the giant rocket booster behind them.
Both Rogers and Curl admit numerous fans have told them some of their material brings tears to the eyes, although both are shy to explain why. They stress again it's only part of what they do. And while Curl says these songs were meant to be intense on a personal level, Rogers believes the band is simply influenced by others who impart emotion well.
``The people we've always been really into and who've inspired us, like U2 and James, they're really good at that,'' Rogers said. ``They're really intense and spiritual, so it follows we head that direction too. Hopefully some of that has rubbed off.''
``I know I've written these songs as something deeply, emotionally intense to me, and I'm glad that comes across,'' Curl said. ``We've been told we illicit that feeling. And when it gets really intense and heavy, it transcends us. It becomes a channeling thing. We're in our own world. If we're doing it right, you'll see our eyes closed, and we won't open them because it'll ruin the images in our minds.''