- from The Model Sons website
The Lies...
I often wonder what would have happened if Courtney Love didn't ruin rock and roll for a dozen years with her big stupid mouth back in 1991. Back then, the painted panicked kinderwhore was spouting off to whatever microphone was available about Guns N' Roses irrelevance and her mopey husband's suicide star brilliance, prompting a history ratcheting confrontation backstage at the Grammy awards. A fed up Axl Rose, just months away from losing his mind completely anyway, stormed up to the red-eyed flannel king, fists clenching, brain vein pulsing, looking for the ultimate photo-op punch out. "You better tell your bitch to keep her mouth shut", he sneered, "Or you and I are taking it out the pavement." Kurt shrugged, turned to his tragic Love, mumbled "Shut up, bitch", and wandered off.
And then it all went to hell. Suddenly, a rocker could walk away from a fight if he wanted to, could admit defeat even, and still sell records. Millions of them. The ways of the self-aggrandizing, law abusing cock rock beast went deep, deep underground, and everyone else cut their hair and developed 'issues'. Hello, emo. Welcome to the big time, nu-metal.
But what if Kurt saw Courtney for the pill-popping Nancy Spungen wannabe that she was, flicked her off like an ant, and held out for Heather Locklear? What if arena rawk and indie-grunge were allowed to
co-exist, thrive and develop on their own terms, maybe even get together to fuck once in awhile? What then, Mr. Corduroy?
Well, then the Model Sons might have shown up alot sooner. Not that the idea of a bunch of indie dudes getting together to embrace the wicked ways of thunder rock is an entirely new story in this town- I can think of at least one drug-baiting gang of rock city destroyers that have carved a monolithic career out of just that formula- but you can almost hear the various sensitive + primal chemical components fizzle as the Model Sons songs rumble on. Ian Vogel's distinctive sand lizard rasp is part Kobain, part Mustaine, which is just perfect when you think about it; the back end is a battering ram of slurpy bass (Scott Sinclair) and machine gun drums (Tony Mellace), and the twin guitars (courtesy Vogel and Bryn Bennett) alternate between a pre-"Electric" Cult chime and a post-stoner chunk. Queens of the Post-Modern Age, if you will. Heady stuff, and it's all laid out, bleeding and raw, on their self-released EP, "The Lies and the Money", a
7 chapter supersonic storybook that manages to straddle both chest beating heavy rock and whip-smart indie clang without being condescending to either. Which can't be easy. Even more so when you figure in the day jobs of three-quarters of the Model Sons. They're video game designers. Almost famous ones, even. Not exactly born under a bad sign or raised by wild spiders, these cats. But goddamnit, their record rocks, so drop the joysticks and listen up.
...And the Money
The Model Sons' frontman, Ian Vogel, looking scruffy but not disheveled, bemused but hardly beleaguered, blinks out through the murk of the Middle East stage at the hip and slightly tipsy youngfolk shouting
in-jokey non-sequiturs at the band. He strokes his guitar. "I have absolutely nothing to say to you people."
Well, at least he's not lying to us. After a suitably raucous set filled
with ping-ponging stage moves, howling choruses, and a broken guitar or
two, Brit pop star-looking axeman Bennett idles up to me to talk rawk. I
like the guy. He neither smells like death nor asks me if I've got any
cocaine, which is a nice change from my normal rock show interfaces.
Still, we appear to be speaking in different tongues. I ask him about his
day job. "Are you into video games?" He asks. "No." We blink at each
other. He mentions growing up in Buffalo. I mention The Erotics, upstate
New York's sleaziest rock and roll band. He blinks. He says, "Are you into
At the Drive-In at all?" I scan the room, and the only other fucked for
good rocker in the joint is Johnny Rock, and he appears to be hustling up
some chick. Then some Cure rip-off band with dangling cuff earrings starts
up. But goddamnit, the Model Sons record rocks, so I just re-schedule the
interview for a few days later. I called Bryn up late on New Year's day,
about five minutes after I realized that the 'quitting smoking' thing was
a foolish idea. So, are you guys rich? It's ok if you are.
Hopefully someday, but no.
How do the day jobs figure in to the band? Do they afford you the time to tour if you want to?
That's the really good thing about working in the video game industry, it's not really an 'adult' job. I don't have to be at work until 1 o'clock. I can stay for the whole show, go to the party afterwards, and still make it into work the next day without a problem.
Right on. I have a theory about the name. Did I tell this already?
I don't think so.
Do you guys drink at the Model?
We do. (The Model is a local rock star dive bar, by the way- Sleaze)
You drink at the Model with rock stars that are old enough to be your dads. The Model Sons. How perfect is that?
That's a good theory, but I don't think there was that much thought into it. I think it might have just been because we were hanging out at the Model too much. The guy that owns the Model saw one of our posters and got angry about it, actually.
It's good, though. Kinda regal.
What, like Queen?
Right! Why do you think Joe Strummer was so favorably eulogized when he died, but nobody really cared when Robbin Crosby did?
Yeah, I don't know. Joe Strummer hasn't really come out with anything good in the past 20 years, but then again, neither has Robbin Crosby, really. The one thing I thought that hurt Robbin was that Ratt was so egotistical, and I don't know that they had the right to be at times.
But don't you think that say, in Buffalo, where you're from, people would be mourning Robbin alot more?
Definitely. And, I can say that I've seen Robbin Crosby live, and I've never seen Joe Strummer. It was when they had that song "I Need a Woman", only in the video, it was filled with ugly twelve year old girls. That was pretty rock and roll.
Now, we're talking. Bryn went from saying "I'm probably the most 'emo' guy in the band..." to discussing underage groupies in 15 minutes flat. Mission accomplished. I don't care how much fuckin' code these guys can write, The Model Sons officially rock, so go out and support them. And bring your little sister, I hear they dig that.
Photos: Matthew Gamber, Melissa Leighty