The
Decals 
Somewhere out there it’s 3 in the morning, and there’s a liquid gang of leather jacketed cool kids that have no intention of stopping the rock, ever. They only read comic books and watch old bootleg videos of ‘Ready, Steady, Go’. They like to dance until they’re half- naked and covered in sweat, but they only like records with big holes in the middle. The one with the flame- job bowling shirt and the slicked back hair- let’s call him Johnny-lights up a Lucky with his skull shaped lighter. "Somebody play me something hep", he drawls. "I’m in the mood to shake up some action." This, brothers and sisters, is a job for the Decals. The Decals are the Kiss pinball machine, the leopard skin lined hot rod, the purple lipstick of Boston Rock. Imagine Generation X with a couple of chicks up front, or the Runaways with a couple of dudes, or maybe if Riff Randall had a twin sister and a few Johnny and Dee Dee’s back home. They play insanely catchy pop-punk, somewhere between the garage in 1966, CBGB’s in 1978, and the Abbey Lounge next Saturday night. Nicole Johnson on guitar and Michelle Paulhus on bass are the quintessential rocker chicks that fuel the Decals sound. Bratty and sweet in equal measures, they trade off vocal duties like gum chewing debutantes with a chip on their shoulders. If you’ve ever dated either one of them and somehow fucked it up, chances are they’ve written a song about you, and it’s not complimentary. Backing them up like switchblade combed big brothers are Mr. Freeze himself, Craig Adams on second guitar and former Crazy Alice skinsman Gino Zanetti on drums. In their scant two years of existence, they’ve managed to release a scorching single, "You (that’s all we ever talk about)", rock their way into the semi-finals of the Rumble, and perhaps most impressive of all, help transform a desperate rat hole like the Abbey Lounge in Somerville into an equally ratty hipster rock dive. Most recently, they’ve released their first full length album, "Drive-By Kiss Off" on local pop-punk label Fork in Hand.
"I think it’s the
kind of thing where you’re speeding away and giving someone the
finger." Michelle’s explaining the album’s title to me over the
phone on the eve of it’s release. " There’s nothing about cars in
our songs", she says.
"They’re all ‘Fuck You’ songs. But
we always have a car theme on our covers, so it all ties in." Makes
sense, in a rock and roll kind of way. "Maybe it’s just because
it’s my band, but I think the record’s awesome. It’s got ten songs,
and none of them are filler. The label that we’re on, Fork in Hand, are
really cool, too. For a small local label, they put out 10 —12 releases
a year, which is a lot. And they’ve been really generous. They’ve
given us a million apiece", she deadpans. Ask Michelle what’s
she’s having when you’re out on a night of rolling depravity, and
she’ll give you a wink and order up. "A Rolling Rock and a shot of
Jagermeister." If you are what you drink, then Michelle is the
definition of Bad Fun. It’s no wonder that she’s in the Decals. With
her trademark blonde bangs and her penchant for telling it like it is,
she’s the definition of hipster cool. Most of the time, anyway. "I
actually like Blink 182", she tells me somewhere in our conversation.
" I can’t believe I just said that. Eww." She also
knows anybody that’s ever picked up a guitar in the Greater Boston area.
"I’ve always kept in touch with what’s going on", she says.
"Even before I played in any bands myself, I’d go out to see bands
like 4 times a week. I worked at the Rat for awhile, so I met a lot of
people there, too." Michelle has also done time in the past couple of
years in the legendary Boston proto-punks the Real Kids, a stint that gave
her plenty of experience and punker street cred, if not financial
independence. "I toured the West coast with them for two weeks, I did
a festival in Spain, I did a Midwest tour, all in the span of 6 months.
And I didn’t even make enough money to quit my day job", she
laughs. Ultimately, the Decals became her top priority, and she quit the
Kids. "It was just too hard trying to maintain two full time
bands", she says. "But it worked out well, because a lot of
people came to see the Decals for the first time because they knew me from
the Real Kids."
With the Real Kids and the Freeze as the Decals legacy, they’re often labeled a punk band, and I ask Michelle if she thinks the tag fits. "I just think we play fucking rock music", she says. " But there’s so many genres out there, we’ve been called garage, punk, everything. I think we’re a pleasing combination of all of those things, which is just plain old rock and roll." Whatever you want to call their sexy, snotty racket, The band plan on taking it on the road for a series of weekend long hit and run missions. I see a fire breathing van with purple bubble windows. "No", she laughs. " The guys have a van, but I wouldn’t even trust it to get to New York City. We’ll have to rent something." These proposed forays into the rock trenches being their first time on the road together, I ask Michelle if she foresees inter band dust-ups along the way. "The only conflict I’d see is who’s going to drive at 2 AM, because we’ll all be drunk", she says. Ain’t it fun?