“More than a dozen years after their breakup, the dB’s occupy a position of considerable prestige and influence,” writes journalist Scott Schinder in the copious liner notes accompanying a new CD reissue of the first two albums by the much-loved NYC-by-way-of-Winston-Salem combo. “They’re… acknowledged by pop history as a crucial link between Big Star’s pre-punk power-pop and the wave of Southern guitar bands that R.E.M. spearheaded in the ’80s. [However] bad timing, bad breaks and bad luck kept the band a safe distance from mainstream success, often overshadowing the craft, intelligence and inventiveness of the band’s recorded output.” Hard luck or not, 1981’s Stands for DeciBels and its ’82 follow-up Repercussion are indeed classics of their oeuvre in the same sense that the Velvet Underground’s seminal offerings cast long shadows upon underground hipsters years earlier. The dB’s were singer/guitarists Peter Holsapple and Chris Stamey, who to many fans represented their generation’s inspired merging of the McCartney/Lennon and the Alex Chilton/Chris Bell songwriting axes, plus the sublimely tight-but-loose rhythm section of drummer Will Rigby and bassist Gene Holder. They made their grab for the brass ring memorable for one simple reason: They had the tunes. From “Bad Reputation” (Creedence Clearwater Revival relocates to Carnaby Street) to “Living A Lie” (powerpop redux turns Stax/Volt baroque) to the complex “From a Window to a Screen” (Bacharach, Beatles, Elvis Costello, jazz/Caribbean nuances, and even Charles Ives all collide in an alarmingly compact 2-1/2 minute New Wave symphony), every song on the two records has stood the test of time.
Drummer Rigby, currently residing in Nashville as a member of Steve Earle’s Dukes, has become the de facto dB’s archivist of late and is largely responsible for accumulating and organizing the content for the recently unveiled official dB’s website (see below). Of the group chemistry that sparked the dB’s in New York in 1978, Rigby now observes, “I think we were fortunate to have a common background, not so much being from the South — although that set us apart in NYC, for sure! — as having heard the same things. We were old enough that we weren’t all that influenced by the punk explosion, although we liked it. So our tastes tended to be more developed than those [bands] that came after and were more influenced by, say, the Ramones or the Clash. And while the initial burst of energy had, by the time the dB’s formed, already dissipated, there was definitely still the feeling of something new going on in New York.”
The dB’s were by all accounts at the forefront of an early 80s East Coast pop and garage renaissance that included such disparate outfits as NYC’s Fleshtones, Hoboken’s Feelies, North Carolina’s Let’s Active and Georgia’s R.E.M. Stamey had formed the band with Rigby and Holder in the summer of ’78; Holsapple signed on a few months later as keyboardist in order to flesh out the group’s live sound, but soon enough his songwriting talents began emerging to provide the crucial melodic yang to Stamey’s more unconventional yin.
Quickly proving popular as a touring act, the dB’s signed with British label Albion in 1980 and at first seemed destined to break out. However, with Albion ultimately unable to find a US licensee for the two albums, the band had to settle for the club circuit, critical kudos and some college radio play for import copies of the LPs. A frustrated Stamey eventually split to go solo in ’84. The Holsapple-helmed dB’s subsequently recorded a pair of excellent albums and toured nationally with R.E.M., but recurring financial and record label woes ultimately led to the band throwing in the towel in October of ’88. (Ironically, in May of that year, the original dB’s lineup had reunited for a one-off gig headlining a benefit concert for the homeless at Charlotte’s Grady Cole Center. Rigby recalls the show as being “surprisingly good, considering that the four of us hadn’t been on a stage together in six years,” but goes on to suggest that as things abruptly came to a close when union stagehands, deeming that the curfew hour had been reached, pulled the plug on the dB’s in midsong, it was perhaps a fitting omen that the band’s time, too, had run out.)
All this and more is expertly unraveled in Shinder’s liner notes accompanying the Stands for DeciBels/Repercussion CD. Collectors’ Choice Music (a reissue label sharing both name and premises with the well-known specialty mail order operation) has rescued the albums from out-of-print limbo, pairing them onto a single 79-minute CD and adding a pair of bonus tracks.
Interestingly, the CCM reissue is only the latest twist in what’s been a circuitous path in getting the dB’s music to the marketplace. As noted, the Albion LPs maintained pricey import-only status; later, Line Records of Germany oversaw shoddy-quality vinyl and CD reissues for Europe; in ’89, I.R.S. finally stepped in to issue remastered versions of the two CDs stateside; and a confusing array of import compilations of dB’s material has surfaced over the years as well.
Explains Rigby, “The band probably wouldn’t even have found out the CCM re-release was in the works had they not hired Scott Schinder, a friend of ours, to write liner notes. Thanks to him, we learned in time to have some input, adding a bonus track [the non-LP ‘Soul Kiss’] and overseeing the cover design. Still, it’s a good question where ownership actually resides at this point! The last we knew, Line owned all Albion masters; Line had licensed the albums to I.R.S. But all [those] labels are out of business. CCM licensed the masters from EMI, which owns the I.R.S. catalog, I believe. I’m not completely convinced that EMI really has the rights to sub-license the recordings, but it’s good that they’re available again. It would take a phalanx of lawyers working in the US, UK and Germany to figure out where all the rights are. If recording contracts weren’t so inherently one-sided in favor of record companies — in other words, in any fair world — ownership of these recordings would have reverted to the band years ago. Unfortunately, it doesn’t work that way.”
Rigby’s perspective is acute enough to yield an exhaustive 10,000 word history of the dB’s, currently viewable at www.ThedBsOnline.net. Must-reading for any dB’s fan, his essay also provides illuminating snapshots from the American indie underground of the era. Speaking of snapshots, the site features an impressive scrapbook section (photos, gig posters, etc.) along with a detailed discography, merchandise (dB’s mouse pads or boxer shorts, anyone?), MP3s of unreleased music, video clips and a message board where fans and even the erstwhile band member can post comments or queries.
“The dB’s Online was constructed by Jake Gorst of Exploded View with my input,” says Rigby. “It’s actually fun to work on, and I’m kind of an online junkie, although it was strange spending so much time thinking about such a distant past. There’s a potential cache of unusual items we hope to get our hands on one of these days. New audio files, some live recordings, are our next project. I just found out that Gene has the multitrack tapes to the ’81 London Rainbow concert [where the dB’s contribution to the Stiff Records’ multi-band live album Start Swimming was recorded], so we may even be able to put together a live CD to sell at the site. And we’re hoping to get a top-quality digital file of Walter Williams’ [of Mr. Bill fame] video for Repercussion’s ‘Amplifier,’ too.”
Getting back to the two albums for a moment, Rigby remains justifiably proud and has fond memories of the making of them. “Recording Stands for DeciBels was exciting, if not exactly glamorous — although at one of the mixing sessions at [NYC’s] Power Plant, Springsteen was in the other room. I remember him sitting in the lounge once when I walked out!
“Repercussion [recorded in England with future R.E.M. producer Scott Litt] sounded better thanks to Scott, who had a lot of ideas. Although I can’t help but wonder what that record would sound like with less reverb — ‘The Sound Of The 80s!’ I guess it still goes on in Top 40, Britney records and the like. But most bands that are any good have wised up.”
Everyone loves a rock & roll underdog tale, and the party line has always been that The dB’s suffered unjustly at the cruel hand of fate. Both Stamey and Holsapple, however, as quoted in Shinder’s liner notes, appear more circumspect.
Noted Stamey, “Many aspects of the dB’s career were very typical of bands. Almost all bands find no financial/commercial success, merited or not. We made several records with reasonable budgets, had several big tours, sold out clubs… radio play was the main hole in the picture. I think our share of bad luck was not actually excessive; in a lot of ways, we had a better time of it than most.”
“Not every great band has a hit,” Holsapple summarized. “And I consider us lucky in having gone from up-and-coming to also-rans to posthumously wonderful in a comparatively short period of time.”
Rigby agrees, adding that while “our weakness was the business side — we were right in there with all those [other bands] that made mistakes and had setbacks — we did persevere through it for quite a while, and it wasn’t all bleak. I remember a lot of good times.”
In addition to Rigby’s work with Steve Earle, nowadays Stamey and Holder are both successful producers (respectively, in Chapel Hill and Hoboken), while New Orleans-based Holsapple is a key member of the Continental Drifters. Yet the question, when talking about the dB’s, inevitably comes up…
“It’s hard to imagine that [a reunion] could be the same,” says Rigby. “We were 20-somethings then and we’re 40-somethings now. Getting everyone in one place would be the hardest part — we live in four states. [laughs] But it has been discussed from time to time. There’s always a chance, I suppose.” *
This article appears in Jan 19-25, 2002.
