Gang of Four

 
Something strange is happening in Dallas. Just a few years ago, 
the idea of bands playing songs they wrote themselves in local 
clubs seemed farfetched. Don't even ask about getting paid for 
it. Then out of the underground emerged something unexpected -
and it looked like money. Today, club owners and clubgoers alike 
recognize the profit potential of homegrown music. 
                                                         
As local favorites have gone national, more than a few Dallas 
bands have gone starry-eyed and art gratia ars has been 
supplanted by quid pro quo and career awareness. Amidst the 
mad mating dances done for the benefit of record company A&R
personnel, however, there are sill quite a few for whom the 
bottom line is still just playing music. 

The four bands profiled here, though representative of a wide 
variety of styles and appeal, share that common element. This 
is not intended as a complete listing; these four acts represent 
but a small sampling of those bands who would be doing what they 
do even if no one were listening. Lend an ear. 

"You always hear the stereotype about the band that's concerned 
with the environment. I hate to say it, but I guess that's us." 
It's not likely that Vaughn Stevenson hates to admit his concern 
for the planet as much as he'd hate to have his band, Course of
Empire, subjected to a stereotype. Not that this is at all 
likely to happen, either. Course of Empire is as resolutely 
different as they come. 

Uncomfortable with the roles of performers playing for a passive 
audience, the band set about trying to alter this relationship, 
though the members admit that their initial efforts were met 
with built-in resistance. "Standing up on stage sets up all 
sorts of weird expectations and barriers that we're just 
figuring out how to deal with," says guitarist Mike Graff. The 
band met this challenge by adding a second drummer to supplement 
Anthony Headley's big beat, and by placing storage drums in the 
audience and encouraging fans to take part. 
 
"Just personally," says Graff. "the ideal of exploring the 
entire room, leaping off the stage, grabbing someone, handing 
them a pair of sticks and getting them involved in creating the 
music that is going down right now in the present tense is 
fascinating to me." And it seems to have worked. Although a 
Course of Empire show may begin conventionally enough, the band 
endeavors to build to what singer Stevenson characterizes as "a 
really energetic, chaotic feeling." 
 
The energy outlined by Graff's metallically meandering guitar 
and Paul Semrad's whomping bass line is dark, but not without 
hope. Using the performance as an object lesson. Course of 
Empire teaches its audience the possibility for action affecting 
their own environment. "Anybody who show up has an opportunity 
to influence the work in progress." says Graff, "and the 
experiences of everybody else in the room." 
 
Citing such influences as Bauhaus, butthole Surfers, and Laibach, 
Course of Empire nevertheless practices its own style, which 
doesn't beg comparison to anyone, though it does share Laibach's 
outlook: the musical experience as a means to philosophical end.
Although lacking a written manifesto like Laibach, the band has 
taken to passing out reprints of articles on subjects such as 
creativity to fans after their set. The object is not
proselytization, but, says Graff, "to somehow go beyond the 
scope of just that meeting. When the rock 'n' roll is going down, 
when you're up on stage, there's not time to get involved in an 
intellectual conversation. But if afterwards you hand somebody an 
article that inspired you, two nights later they'll be sitting on 
the toilet and have a chance to read it. The next time we're 
together a conversation starts." 

The major impact of Course of Empire's music is visceral, not 
cerebral. To augment its carnivorous sound and to replace a recent 
departure, the band is looking for a second drummer who shares its 
vegetarian practices. When the new lineup is in place, the band
will start working on a winter album release. Graff says he 
envisions the band moving towards a "kind of tribal experience" in 
its future activities. Acknowledging that it's only rock 'n' roll, 
Graff says. "Yeah, I'm talking about some big stuff, but at this 
point, we're just laying the groundwork. We're just trying to play 
our chords right."