The year was 1986 and the underground/alternative music scene was in full swing in college and university towns across the country. Kent was no exception. It too had its abundance of unique and original bands all vying for a piece of the action. In the 80's, the music scene in Kent was so pervasive it seemed that on every side street sounds of drums, bass and guitar filled the air-much to the dismay of local denizens.

I bought my first drum set in early 1986-my French horn playing ceased to exist years ago. My yearning to express my creativity prompted an unsuccessful tryout with The Chants, Kent's legendary sugar-coated-popsters of that era. I just couldn't quit properly time those triplets in "I fought the Law". No matter, my direction and interests pointed more toward Joy Division and The Cure, among others. Coming across an ad for a drummer in a local record shop, I decided to reply and give it another try. This circumstantial event is were we find the birth of the Germ Free Adolescents-the band name comes from an old X Ray Specs song. With an eclectic mix of personalities, the confluence of Dave Chavez, guitar/vocals; Daryl Ulm, keyboards; and myself, James Coufalik, on drums, in the Summer of '86, formed the foundation for one of Kent's esoteric music projects driven by the desire to be what "hipsters" call "underground" or experimental. In fact, it was nothing so much different or experimental for us, rather more a natural release of our inner constitution. What precipitated was not legendary or earth shattering in the aspect of musical history, but an experience for the hear-and-now of the late 1980's musical environment in Kent, Ohio. It was personal, and for those that listened or participated-as most did at the shows in one form or another-the Germ Free Adolescents were happy to play their brand of alternative music.

The band rehearsed throughout the summer 1986 and decided to book its very first gig at JB's Down in late September. With a short set list the band, sans bass player, (Ulm was playing bass lines on his left hand), the gig was somewhat of a disaster. However thanks to free cigarette sample packs that I tossed out to the crowd, I was able to calm the savage JB's Down beast. Those packs, re-branded with a stamp of the Germ Free Adolescents logo, were left over from my summer job with Philip Morris-it's amazing what people will do, or put up with for free smokes. The band re-grouped, realizing it needed another warm body. We decided to bring in local bass player Mike Crooker to help round out the sound and bolster the rhythm section. It was a positive move that induced the band to increase its rehearsal time, add new songs, and improve upon its live performances. Recording sessions soon followed. I can recall at one time the Kent cops shutting down our home recording session while using Crooker's mobile unit. They called it excessive noise, but the band did its best to argue that it was art in the making.

The band appeared to be making headway when "Poet as a Young Corpse" was chosen as a selection on Cleveland State's WCSB Radio "Son-of-a-Cassette Fest" compilation in 1987. Now with local airplay on college radio, Germ Free was feeling more confident than ever. Unfortunately that feeling would not last long. Crooker announced he was leaving the band due to commitments with his Indian Rope Burn project. The search was on again for a bass player. The band was introduced to transplanted Venice Beach, CA native and art-freak, Raynard Packard. With a new bass player and a new rehearsal flat above the Subway sandwich shop at 123 ½ Franklin Ave, the chemistry among members appeared to work well. The Germ Free's sound began a transformation from a harder edged post-punk offering to a dark, brooding, swirling vortex of sound, with covers of Bau Haus' "Stigmata Martyr" and The Cure's "Strange Day" added into the repertoire. The band was also diving deep, headfirst into Akron's art scene with shows at venues such as the Bau Haus in the old downtown warehouse district. Its choice of playing partners become more eclectic and bizarre over time, such as the show with Sockeye at the Bau Haus venue. Sockeye lead singer, in an indecent display of absurdity and degeneration of farce, smeared peanut butter all over his head while performing-I don't think infamous G.G. Allin ever matched this level of aesthetics.

Shortly after the Bau Haus debacle, Ulm announced he was leaving to pursue out-of-state graduate studies. Again a three piece, the band brought in various combinations (Danny on keys, Jeff on guitar, etc.) of musicians to replace the void left by Ulm's keyboard lines. This revolving "guest" member approach appeared to function for the moment by creating a sense of continuity in the line-up. And it was in this period of development that the band experienced a steady following of believers/loyalists. It was also a time I experienced one of our more memorable shows. The story goes something like this: it was 15 minutes before show time at an Akron club called Thursday's-a cheesy disco used for live performances. Equipment was placed and readied-everything was set to go except that bass player Packard was nowhere to be found. The band was worried that they would have to perform the show minus the bass. The problem was not that Packard was absent, rather he was incognito and unrecognizable to the band wearing full drag dress! Much to the surprise and delight of the crowd, the show did go on. The only problem is that someone spiked his drink with what was later to be determined as Xanax-an anti-anxiety drug which inhibited his time keeping, much less his ability to stand up 20 minutes into the show. There were to be several more "freakish" incidents over the months to come, including being booted out of KSU's on-campus Music Listening Center by the director after just three songs into the set. He claimed we were too LOUD and WEIRD-what was he expecting-acoustic guitars and tambourines? I think Germ Free Adolescents is the only band who can claim that fame?

Again, more studio recording and local performances followed. The band decided to break out of the Kent-Akron-Cleveland scene and take the show on the road to New York City's infamous CBGB's-a venue that hosted the American punk school, and legendary performances of bands such as the Ramones, Blondie, Sonic Youth, and the Talking Heads. Wide-eyed and a bit overcome with the Big Apple, the band found themselves victims of theft. Every piece of musical equipment was stolen (except for the drums-too many parts to lug around) under extremely suspicious circumstances. Needless to say this was a major setback that nearly destroyed Germ Free Adolescents. Again, minus one bass player, Chavez and myself vowed to continue. Chavez invited longtime musician friend, Mark Ireland, to play bass. The quirky Ireland whose day job it was to stress test (read: destroy) computer components seemed like a natural for this motley gathering of personalities. Ireland proved to be exceptional on bass and in his home studio during the band's recording projects. The sound continued its evolution. Gone were the passionate ecstasy and elegiac melancholy keyboard treatments. In its place, a swirling, delay-drenched guitar texture, emotive bass counter melodies, and frenetic, break-stick drumming. Some say what emerged from this eccentric triad was a lyricism or personification of the alternative-inspiration derived from the nihilism of Joy Division, neo-romanticism of The Cure, and the sonic explosion of Spaceman 3.

Germ Free Adolescents was again gigging and zigzagging venues throughout the region, back on the road headed to CBGB's for a Christmas show on December 23, 1990, and then over to Chicago's Czar Bar just after New Year's Day. On this occasion, Germ Free shared an over-loaded Dodge extended-van with friends and Cleveland band mates, Plain White Toast. Chicago was so bloody cold that year, my hands would stick to the metal drum hardware when off loading equipment from the van.

Upon our return to Kent more shows followed and then a brilliant opportunity came in March to open for UK post-punk legends Killing Joke. For the band, it was a special honour to play alongside one of its long-time influences. What's ironic is that Jaz Coleman, lead singer of Killing Joke, is now practically my neighbor in Prague. After the Killing Joke show it was a white-knuckle journey from Cleveland to Kent, driving in a blinding snowstorm with friend and Chant's drummer Dave McFarland as passenger. I was exhausted from the show and he had promised to help keep me awake during the hour-long trip. Realizing that he rather sleep in the back seat of my beat-up Volkswagon than play navigator, I rolled down all the windows to freeze him awake! A few miles down the road I looked in the back seat to see him curled up in a ball covered in frost and snow-he could sleep through an atomic blast.

For a while, life in the band seemed splendid, with new opportunities unfolding, but eventually fortune would not be kind, as circumstances would soon cloud the future. A personal conflict erupted, which would tear at the band's very existence-and ultimately, in the cold winds of November 1991, disintegration.

On October 20, 1990, Germ Free Adolescents played one of its final memorable shows-an inspiring performance on Case Western Reserve University's radio station, WRUW's "Live from Studio A". Listening to this live recording I knew that something special had happened to the music. I was so happy and proud of what we had done, despite after all those years of doubt, setbacks, and long nights of practice. Our sound transcended all this and became magical that day. Every note, passage, beat seemed to build into something so magnificent that it transmuted into what we as a band had always dreamt it could be. It was a sound so full of energy and vibrant emotion, that to this day, I'm still amazed by the moment captured on tape that sunny Saturday, autumn afternoon.

It's strange sitting here in mainland Europe living half a world away now, after 10 years pondering, looking back at Kent and the Germ Free Adolescents-thinking what the music meant to the band and to me personally-such a deeply intense, formative musical experience. It was time when we were all happy, a bit naïve, and thought it would never end, but that's what playing in a Kent band was all about-creativity, angst, and dreams. I feel privileged just to be part of it.

James Coufalik
jacc@europe.com
Prague
November 2001