n 1949, in
Memphis, Tenn., in a small studio at 706 Union
Ave., Sam Phillips created Sun Records. The name was derived from Phillips’ unquenchable,
perpetual optimism. Any Memphis band was welcome
at the young recording studio, whether it be gospel,
blues, country or even that new thing all the kids
were getting down to called “rock and roll.” Sun’s
motto was, “We record anything, anytime, anywhere."
The legacy that Phillips created in Memphis is alive
and well all over the country—and Salt Lake
City is no exception. The surprisingly small, odd
little town is not one you would expect to carry
this honor. Not only is there a relatively large,
bustling music scene here, but the individual players
in the music game are energetic and enthusiastic.
And some of the most energetic and enthusiastic amongst
them are in charge of some of the local labels.
If you want to get your own music distributed in
this town, owning your own label helps. There are
quite a few independent-label CEOs in town trying
to one-up Phillips, not only by helping people make
music but by making music themselves. Among them
is Red Triangle Records’ Jeremy Smith. Through
e-mail, the Blue Hour, Alchemy and Wolfs member talked
about being in charge of his record label.
“Right now, most of our releases are guitar-oriented
rock music,” Smith said. “We also have
the amazing 1h86335 [pronounced “I Hate Bees”],
which is this more sonic landscape stuff and decidedly
not ‘rock’ music.”
It is impossible to overstate how the local music
community affects the local labels therein. How
the atmosphere permeating through the valley, both
metaphorically and physically, affects the people
producing the music you hear at Kilby Court or Burt’s Tiki
Lounge. And Salt Lake City’s quirkiness influences
how the music is made and heard.
“I think one thing about the city is that for
a while, no one really felt like they could ‘make
it’ hailing from such a small city with a sore
national image, so people didn't generally make 'radio'
music,” he said. “The music here has a
lot of passion in it, and is generally less influenced
by ‘popular’ music culture…It is
great to see creativity be rewarded. Maybe there will
be a time when the sound of this city is popular culture.
Who knows?”
The isolation that life Salt Lake City sometimes
creates—knowing the same people who know the
same people and watching the sun set from the Wasatch
foothills—might be a consideration when looking
at the creativity that goes on in the music community.
If you hang out with anyone who is heavily involved
in the music scene, you’ll find out rather
quickly just how closely knit the various band members
and producers are. Sunday afternoon kickball games
among friends can lead to serious talk about upcoming
shows and albums.
Smith calls the attitude of the scene in Salt
Lake City “mostly positive…There are the
occasional days when all the hard work seems for
nothing, but that's not too often. Most of the groups
around town are friends and are very supportive.
The fans that really appreciate the music are more
than cherished.”
David Payne, CEO of Rest 30 records, shares Smith’s
take on the local scene. Payne also has a very positive
attitude within the musical community.
“I think it's wonderful. That perspective on
the diversity of the scene and so forth, as well as
the perspective on the record biz that I have (defined
by how Rest 30 Records works) leads to a real DIY attitude,
and after that, what can you really say? This is a
very productive town.”
Rest 30, named after the haphazard Japanese translation
of “Thirty Lives Left” in old video games,
is home to a wide variety of music. Or, as Payne
puts it, “...a spectrum of soft to loud. As
in the soft Coyote Hoods and the loud Cronies, with
the modern and mid-level dynamic of Purr Bats in
between.”
Payne’s opinion of the musicmakers in Salt
Lake City is so positive, some might accuse him of
being prejudiced against musicians who don’t
live here. “I know it sounds far-fetched, but
I actually hold the belief that Utah-bred people
are genetically fit to make a certain caliber of
music,” he said. “You could account for
it with SLC’s isolation, backswing from cultural
religious elements or whatever, but my belief is
that myself and my friends actually have a bit of
genetic predisposition going on—considering
that my ancestry did such crazy things as 1) leave
Europe and 2) leave the East to live in Utah. Whatever
the motivation, those are some firmly non-conformist
and unique actions…Rather than deliberate
attempts at originality, it’s usually more
of a non-predisposition to try to mesh with another
group’s sound or style.” Although not
necessarily all that realistic, Payne’s assertion
is a wake-up call to those who might think this city
is somehow beneath them.
Sickboy Records is a bit less diverse in its lineup.
Home of the Downers, the Corleones, and IPX, the
music of Sickboy is generally in the emo/ pop-punk/
ska vein. What the label lacks in diversity, it more
than makes up for in passion and compassion for music
and its fans.
Brandon Dalton, who owns and operates Sickboy, is
practically a scholar when it comes to the importance
of independent labels. “When I was in high
school, I was really into music put out by a lot
of smaller labels like Sub Pop, FAT, Matador, SST,
B.Y.O., Epitaph, Lookout, Dr. Strange and Asian Man,
just to name a few,” Dalton said. “I
was interested in how labels work, what they do for
bands, etc. I grew up in the SLC area and as I started
to get involved in the music scene here, it seemed
that Salt Lake City was lacking labels, for a place
that had so many bands. So I decided to start one
up. It was pretty much out of admiration for the
labels that I was a fan of. I had almost no clue
what was involved in it at the time.”
Since filling the lack-of-label hole with Sickboy,
Dalton has derived pleasure from the simple joys
of running a record company. “It’s fun
for the most part.
enjoy making ads and catalogs
to promote the music,” he said. “I like
sending the CDs out for reviews and then reading
what gets written…I like seeing one of my
stickers stuck to something.”
However, the frustrations of being so heavily involved
in the Salt Lake City music scene compels Dalton
to make a good point about one obvious problem: “It
seems like venues have a hard time staying in business
here. I wish I could change all those laws that make
it difficult and expensive for [the clubs to] exist…I’ve
been to shows in Denver, Portland, Boise, Seattle and
[those who are underage] are allowed to mingle with
the 21-and-over with the use of a simple wristband
for those that want to drink. Seems like a lot of
money gets wasted on enforcing those laws and they
aren’t stopping ANY underage drinking.”
Hyrum
Summerhays is the founder and former head of Eden’s
Watchtower. The label, named because “we
are constantly on the lookout (hence, "watchtower")
for music that rises above the din of mediocrity
and homogeny,” is home to such bands as Thetanaught,
DulceSky, Mona and Summerhead. Summerhays described
the label’s music as “high-quality independent
music. Slightly larger labels include K-Records,
Matador Records, 4AD Records—music that varies
all over the spectrum of mellow, melodic, spacey,
mathy, progressive, harsh, avant-garde, etc.”
In two words, Summerhays voices the biggest underlying
difficulty in running a label that all of the interviewees
seemed to agree on. I’m speaking, of course,
of “cash flow.”
“It is so hard to have all of this great music
you want to get out to the world, and have your hands
tied because you can't afford postage to send out promos
or long distance to call up radio stations across the
country. Time is also hard to manage. You have to do
everything yourself and sometimes it gets very overwhelming.”
However, the love from the Salt Lake City music community
is still supportive. Summerhays lists the community’s
support as a positive, but with reservations.
“It is supportive,” Summerhays said, “but
it is also difficult. Everyone is working so hard and
only occasionally seeing results from their work. It
can be a bit cliquish, but sometimes I think that is
only because musicians are often shy and stick with
the people they feel comfortable with and have a hard
time going out of their comfort zone.” Good point
on both counts. If a lot of the local bands would stop
acting like the rock stars they claim not to want to
emulate—or at least, overcome—shyness,
the scene would be a lot stronger.
| Meanwhile,
back in Memphis... |
Five years after Phillips created Sun Records, a
young pretty-boy truck driver by the name of Elvis
Aaron Presley walked into Sun Records on his day
off to record a Borney Bergentine cover called “My
Happiness” as a birthday present for his mother.
And yeah, Elvis’ music was eventually watered
down by the usual spoilsports, and sure, Phillips
eventually sold Sun Records in 1969 as surely as
he sold Elvis to RCA in 1955 for $40,000. You can’t
ride ’em high forever. But, for a moment there,
Phillips, Presley and Sun Records did what independent
labels today are trying to do: stay afloat, keep
the music real and find the golden nuggets in a sea
of pebbles—basically doing what Rest 30, Red
Triangle, Sickboy, Eden’s Watchtower and a
host of other local labels are trying to do today.
With a little love for the music, a bit of recording
space, and lots and lots of egg cartons, these friends
of friends are making music that is more true and
honest than anything you will hear on the radio.
The future of music is right here in the city.
Sam would have been proud.
jordan@red-mag.com
