Blowfish blues
Tonya Parker Morrison
March 09, 2007
(An interview from 1999)
Things have not been easy lately for Hootie the Blowfish. Once pop music's favorite Southern sons, the band seemed to topple from their peak as quickly as they had ascended it.
The tide turned against the quartet after 1996's "Fairweather Johnson" failed to ignite the charts as the release of its 1994 Atlantic debut "Cracked Rear View" had.
In the beginning there was the David Letterman show, a presidential inauguration performance, a Rolling Stone cover and coveted awards (like the MTV Best Video for "Hold My Hand," two Grammys and the American Music Association's Best Rock Group). Then nothing. Darius Rucker, Hootie's lead singer, is quick to point out that it was the media, not the music industry, that seemed to be making life hell for Hootie.
"Sure, who wouldn't want a band who's sold 17 million records? Look at the bands who've done it," he says emphatically. "But you have to contend with it and deal with it. We sold 4 million records and were a flop. You look at people that brag about selling a million. We sell 2 million and it's a flop."
He does admit that the powers that be in the music industry may be just a bit jaded. "You sell 15 million out of your trunk and they'll say, `Oh, that's nothing -- every band's doing that.' "
Reminiscing about the band's salad days while enjoying the modest success of its latest release, "Musical Chairs," Rucker should know about selling records out of trunks. He and his band-mates did just that early in their careers, carting around as many of their independent releases as they could cram into their van.
"We sound tons better than we did back then. We used to suck pretty bad. Every band sucks early on -- they have to," he says. "We had a lot of fun and that was the important thing. If something wasn't fun, then we had a problem with it."
It was a long way from the smoke-filled clubs along the South Carolina shore to the center ring of the circus that is music-industry success. After eight years the group hit the proverbial big time. While Rucker says a record deal was always in the back of his mind, the resulting success did come as somewhat of a surprise.
"I thought we'd do all right, maybe get a record deal, but I didn't think of this. It was hard to ignore the way our career built. We were together for eight years before we got noticed. When they noticed us, we were like, `Well, we've been waiting for you.' "
From the beginning, the band had a unique sound that seemed to usher in a new type of nonthreatening rock. It's as if the band's members knew instinctively exactly what the '90s were all about, a minimalism that was at once comforting and creative. The group soon became as known for its easygoing, nubile musical style as it was for its unusual name.
"I think our sound came more from what we listened to individually than the South," he says. "Those guys are from like Maryland and Chicago and I was from the South, but I listened to Al Green and Gladys Knight and the Pipps and everything. R.E.M. was just one of those bands that we all listened to. Tom Petty and John Hiatt, people like that, straight rock 'n' roll songs, three chords and out. You know, that's really where it came from more than living in the South or anything."
The group has made it a point to keep its collective eye on the current events in Rucker's hometown of Charleston, S.C., particularly the controversy over the flying of the Confederate flag over the state Capitol building.
"As a black Southern man, an African American man, why would I want that to be flying over the Capitol? Of course, I want it to come down. I still look up and just can't believe it's there," he says.
Not even the death threats the band has received since "Cracked Rear View" (which had a song entitled "Drowning" about taking the flag down) will keep Rucker et al from continuing to fight for its removal.
"People can get mad at you and send more death threats. They can do whatever they want, but for me, it's just got to come down. I've gotta do it."
Political controversies aside, the outspoken front man still finds the most joy in what he is known best for - performing.
"The two or two and a half hours that we do every night, that's the greatest thing about this job," Rucker says. "The performing, the playing, actually getting up and people paying their hard-earned money to come listen to the songs that you wrote in your basement. That's definitely the best part."
Make sure and check out Hootie & the Blowfish's summer 2007 release! For more Hootie info, go to www.hootie.com.
Things have not been easy lately for Hootie the Blowfish. Once pop music's favorite Southern sons, the band seemed to topple from their peak as quickly as they had ascended it.
The tide turned against the quartet after 1996's "Fairweather Johnson" failed to ignite the charts as the release of its 1994 Atlantic debut "Cracked Rear View" had.
In the beginning there was the David Letterman show, a presidential inauguration performance, a Rolling Stone cover and coveted awards (like the MTV Best Video for "Hold My Hand," two Grammys and the American Music Association's Best Rock Group). Then nothing. Darius Rucker, Hootie's lead singer, is quick to point out that it was the media, not the music industry, that seemed to be making life hell for Hootie.
"Sure, who wouldn't want a band who's sold 17 million records? Look at the bands who've done it," he says emphatically. "But you have to contend with it and deal with it. We sold 4 million records and were a flop. You look at people that brag about selling a million. We sell 2 million and it's a flop."
He does admit that the powers that be in the music industry may be just a bit jaded. "You sell 15 million out of your trunk and they'll say, `Oh, that's nothing -- every band's doing that.' "
Reminiscing about the band's salad days while enjoying the modest success of its latest release, "Musical Chairs," Rucker should know about selling records out of trunks. He and his band-mates did just that early in their careers, carting around as many of their independent releases as they could cram into their van.
"We sound tons better than we did back then. We used to suck pretty bad. Every band sucks early on -- they have to," he says. "We had a lot of fun and that was the important thing. If something wasn't fun, then we had a problem with it."
It was a long way from the smoke-filled clubs along the South Carolina shore to the center ring of the circus that is music-industry success. After eight years the group hit the proverbial big time. While Rucker says a record deal was always in the back of his mind, the resulting success did come as somewhat of a surprise.
"I thought we'd do all right, maybe get a record deal, but I didn't think of this. It was hard to ignore the way our career built. We were together for eight years before we got noticed. When they noticed us, we were like, `Well, we've been waiting for you.' "
From the beginning, the band had a unique sound that seemed to usher in a new type of nonthreatening rock. It's as if the band's members knew instinctively exactly what the '90s were all about, a minimalism that was at once comforting and creative. The group soon became as known for its easygoing, nubile musical style as it was for its unusual name.
"I think our sound came more from what we listened to individually than the South," he says. "Those guys are from like Maryland and Chicago and I was from the South, but I listened to Al Green and Gladys Knight and the Pipps and everything. R.E.M. was just one of those bands that we all listened to. Tom Petty and John Hiatt, people like that, straight rock 'n' roll songs, three chords and out. You know, that's really where it came from more than living in the South or anything."
The group has made it a point to keep its collective eye on the current events in Rucker's hometown of Charleston, S.C., particularly the controversy over the flying of the Confederate flag over the state Capitol building.
"As a black Southern man, an African American man, why would I want that to be flying over the Capitol? Of course, I want it to come down. I still look up and just can't believe it's there," he says.
Not even the death threats the band has received since "Cracked Rear View" (which had a song entitled "Drowning" about taking the flag down) will keep Rucker et al from continuing to fight for its removal.
"People can get mad at you and send more death threats. They can do whatever they want, but for me, it's just got to come down. I've gotta do it."
Political controversies aside, the outspoken front man still finds the most joy in what he is known best for - performing.
"The two or two and a half hours that we do every night, that's the greatest thing about this job," Rucker says. "The performing, the playing, actually getting up and people paying their hard-earned money to come listen to the songs that you wrote in your basement. That's definitely the best part."
Make sure and check out Hootie & the Blowfish's summer 2007 release! For more Hootie info, go to www.hootie.com.
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