We suck. But Surface really, really doesn't.
by Mike Gibson
We here at MP Central not infrequently hear complaints from local music-makers—gripes and grouses that their show wasn't mentioned, their band wasn't covered, that somehow, by fault of either dull-witted myopia or unabashed favoritism, we've overlooked their efforts in so egregious a fashion as to suggest criminal negligence.
And usually, these complaints are proven spurious. Usually. But on just a few, rare, uncommon, sparse, scattered, freakish and very, very isolated occasions, the persons in question might (and we say might, mind you)—they might almost, sort of, maybe, in an if-you-look-at-it-in-the-right-light kind of way, well (gulp.)...they might have a point. At least a little one. Little. Really.
And one of those infrequent Metro-faux-pas may have occurred in the instance of our heralding of the rock band Surface as a winner in the magazine's annual reader's poll, a balloting in which they swept several categories, including both "best band" and "best rock band."
In our magazine announcement, we referred to the band's multi-category sweep in a vaguely cheeky way, making some hay of the fact that Surface was virtually unknown to hipsters such as ourselves. We also stated their membership at four—rather than five—an error that probably speaks to the fact that this is a newspaper, rather than an accounting firm.
And then in what must surely have seemed a slight, a Metro Pulse staffer who shall remain nameless (Pay no attention to the man behind that byline!) missed a scheduled interview last week due to minor vehicular calamity.
Well, we hope it's never too late to make amends. Because the Surfacers are good fellows, really, gracious and polite and generous to a fault. And they're doing inordinately well for a band less than (or even more than, for that matter) one year old, having won a pair of local battle-of-the-bands competitions, and more than holding their own in a third-in-progress.
And on top of all that, they rock, a sentiment echoed by a number of local DJs, clubowners and fans. "It relates to passion," says muscular drummer Jason Garner, upon finally sitting down with his sheepish interviewer some five days after the originally scheduled audience. "If your music is emotional, if it means something to you, it comes across to people."
"Everyone talks about our energy on stage," adds lead guitarist Shawn Lickliter. "We're not the kind of band who likes to stand around with their instruments. You can pick out any band member to watch from show to show, and you'll see something different every time."
Surface is indeed a passionate bunch. Their demo CD ("Would You Believe" b/w "Beside You") is as fresh and earnest a blast of hard-edged heart-on-the-sleeve rock 'n' roll as you're liable to hear anywhere, with more sheer, ebullient melodicism than any dozen nu-metal Limp KornSmack dunderheads you'd care to name.
Lickliter attributes much of their energy to their outlook; the band consider themselves in some ways akin to "post-Christian" modern rockers like Creed and Fuel, groups who eschew any overt musical evangelism, but do include elements of spirituality and metaphysical searching in their lyrics.
"So many bands want to promote anger; I listen to the radio and I hear people singing about their problems, and not how to look past them," says Lickliter. "We're not about that. At the same time, we're not a Christian band, either."
The Surfacers do have religious roots, however; Garner, Lickliter and singer Travis Cardwell played together in local Christian outfit Basic Truth, and chose to remain together after the band disintegrated in 1999. "It seemed like fate we were supposed to be together," says Lickliter.
The trio picked up second guitarist Jason Williams and bassist Jeremiah Weaver in fall 2000, and began an odyssey that has thus far seen them recognized by many as perhaps Knoxville's most noteworthy up-and-comers. This spring, their entry in multiple-heat B 'o' B contests at both O'Charley's and Sandbaggers resulted in resounding triumphs; they've also reached the semifinals of the Jim Beam Rock Band Search's "Best Unsigned Rock Band in Knoxville."
"We won over a lot of judges, and a lot of fans who were at those contests just to see their own friends play," says Williams. "Whenever we played, we were always two feet off the stage."
Surface has the work ethic to match their enthusiasm. Besides their multiple contest appearances, the guys have compiled a sleek press kit and demo CD, and have waged a tireless campaign to build name recognition and a fan base among local and regional clubowners and fans.
"We want to be professional," says Lickliter. "I get pissed at bands who say they want to be signed, then sit around wait for it to happen."
"We put just as much into the business side as we do the shows and practicing," Williams concurs. "We're not in it just to play the local bar for the next 10 years. But no matter, the consensus is that we're gonna play regardless."
And that, dear readers, is the Surface story, sans the skepticism, slovenly journalism, and cheek.
June 14, 2001 * Vol. 11, No. 24
© 2001 Metro Pulse
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