When asked if Gold Circles' transmogrification from manic slabs of distortion to a more textured dynamic has anything to do with newfound maturity, Steve Five replies with one of those casual profundities one spends the next couple of weeks trying to slide into a conversation.
"Maturing is just rebelling against what you did before," deadpans the singer/guitarist, before offering a personal example. "When I was 16 or so, and really into Nirvana, I thought they were just the best band in the world. And my sister's boyfriend at the time was trying to tell me how bad they were, and how good Led Zeppelin was. I didn't even want to hear it, you know, "whatever.' But now I listen to Led Zeppelin way more than I listen to that stuff," he laughs. "In fact, I've been listening to more classic rock in the past year and a half than anything else."
Before the above quote causes any undue discomfiture among perusing indie-philes, I must explain that classic rock is in all likelihood an integral part of Five's DNA. He and his bandmates (bassist Josh Spainhoward and drummer Jason Tarulli) hail from just outside of Kent, Ohio, which is itself nestled a short hour from Cleveland, home of the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame and one of the Rust Belt's great traditional loud-guitar cities. Sixty minutes' distance is apparently close enough for exposure to a little residual fallout; it just takes a couple of years before the symptoms manifest themselves.
While the frontman's relative proximity to yellowed set lists and glass-encased sequined jumpsuits might help explain his recent listening decisions, a first glance at Gold Circles' immediate surroundings doesn't shed much light on the impetus for their fractured and iconoclastic, yet undeniably rocking, style. Kent, a college town, is a tiny islet of transient quasi-hipness in a sea of tract homes, countryside and Industrial Age sprawl. Any sense of liberality lent by a university famous for one of the nation's most tragic authoritarian blunders is offset by that singular sense of deeply rooted conservatism intrinsic to most small inner American cities.
Its hilly, picturesque downtown sports some wonderful old-school architecture, as well as the usual smattering of cool, independently owned businesses (those record shops, used bookstores and coffeehouses that always house an aura of exhausted disuse) and fringe-ish denizens. But overall, Kent is a town of hunters, laborers and Cleveland-bound commuters, augmented annually by an influx of students. When I was last there, perhaps five years ago, Barenaked Ladies was the acme of alternative — in short, it's a nice place to visit, but you wouldn't want to be an indie-rock band there.
At least, not if you were looking for exposure beyond your small, supportive circle of friends.
"There's no audience, really," confirms Five. "The summers are always bad because school's out, there's no college radio station, there are limited places to play. The bands in Kent, they have to leave to find a good audience."
And a tight-knit gaggle of bands is finding a modicum of success by doing just that. Over the last couple of years, the groups making up the bulk of Kent's original-music scene have made some noticeable underground waves. Party of Helicopters, Sockeye, Gold Circles and the late, lamented Harriet the Spy are all releasing records, touring and garnering 'zine and online coverage. By forming the ad hoc co-op/label/booking conglomerate Donut Friends, these outfits have parlayed isolation into an asset. It seems like everyone involved, which is to say pretty much every good band in town, is reaping a little recognition. Though each has its own distinct aural personality, a case could certainly be made for the "Kent sound" — a skewed, simultaneously ballsy and deconstructed take on melodic rock that's as open to experimentation as it is volume.
"It's basically a bunch of high school bands, and then us," Five says with a laugh. "It's just so small. For as different as each band sounds, we all pretty much have the same ideas about music. A lot of the members of various bands grew up together around here; some of us have known each other since kindergarten. All of us are basically just the bands that go on tour."
At the same time, some people in another little town on the outskirts of another major metropolitan area were dealing with a similar combination of isolation and musical obsession. Their therapy manifested itself in the Hudson, Fla.-based Copter Crash Records label, an imprint that somehow came to embrace the doings in Kent with an enthusiastic fixation.
"They were really interested in Party of Helicopters, and just the whole thing, all the Kent music that was coming out," confirms Five. "So I contacted them, and they had heard of us and wanted to hear more. I sent 'em some stuff, and they were really into it. It was almost too easy, I guess."
The support of Copter Crash came at a fortuitous time for Gold Circles. In the wake of numerous lineup changes, a self-financed 7-inch and full-length (the ballistic, sludgy-yet-melodic Enter the Mannequins) and various touring jaunts, GC found themselves frustrated. Five realized that his vision was changing, found himself wondering if another salvo was worth the effort.
"Actually, we were pretty much ready to call it quits," he admits. "We'd gone out and played a ton of shows, put out a record on our own, done everything ourselves. We just tried to get it going, but nobody was ever willing to help."
The "Kent sound" began to make a bit of an impact. Positive reviews of Mannequins cropped up via outlets like high-profile indie Web 'zine theblowup.com. And, of course, Copter Crash released the brand-new Gold Circles Abuse the Magic, a disc that tempers the trio's boisterous, squalling execution with dynamic arrangements and a newfound attention to songcraft. Uncomfortable with explaining his art, Five is loath to say much about the Circles' evolutionary process, preferring to let Abuse the Magic speak for itself.
"I've always thought the hardest thing to do is to describe your own band," he explains. "The newer stuff right now seems to definitely be more … structured. Not necessarily the songwriting, but the style, there's less distortion and all-out energy. We've added some different things, piano, keyboards and stuff like that. It's got a different tone to it altogether."
Engaging and accessible, the new disc may be perceived as more commercial by certain elements of the underground populace. But like most of their contemporaries, Gold Circles views the term "indie-rock" as less a sonic connotation than a simple reference point. They don't care about dogma or association — only making good rock 'n' roll.
"I think any true fan of music, anybody who gets excited about music, doesn't care whether it's on a major label or an independent," avers Five.
"It would be nice to eventually get the chance to fuck things up in the mainstream."
This article appears in Aug 16-22, 2001.