Space Is the Place
Bringing It All Back Home ·
Vol 21 · Issue 1035
· 10/4/00
by Rod Smith · image by Daniel Corrigan
 |
| Satellite of love: Local space-rockers Skye Klad |
Skye Klad rocket away from Earth into a lurid world beyond
Skye Klad is a mobile multipurpose unit specializing in the avenues of
sonic research and experimentation. The main goal being to produce, in effect,
enough sonic energy to enable tenth-dimensional vortices to open and break
down all matter into its pure energy state, thereby allowing intergalactic
travel with ease and comfort, which creates none of the mess usually associated
with such forms of travel.
--Home page, www.skyeklad.com
"Dunlop picks!" Skye Klad bassist Moon Wells interjects with considerable
vigor when I suggest that we turn the conversation toward more mundane matters.
In this case, the subject on the table is what brand of plastic the band likes
to pluck across their strings. The other Skye Klad members gathered with me
in the rear alcove of the Black Forest patio--Wells, guitarists Jason Kesselring
and Erik Wivinus, drummer Matt Zaun, and singer Adam Backstrom--chime in enthusiastically:
"Yeah, Dunlop picks! Skye Klad use Dunlop picks exclusively. And Mesa Boogie
preamps!" We're on our fourth bottle of wine--or is it the fifth?--and this
is the very first piece of shop talk to come up.
What have we discussed? Oh, you know, UFOs, ufologists, the runway scene
in Casablanca, crop circles, cattle mutilation, sex cults, magick with
a k, and topics too numerous and/or monstrous to mention. And then
there's the topic dearest to my heart: Skye Klad's strange predilection for
opening for bands that are somewhat more extensively costumed than
the norm--ranging from All the Pretty Horses to Gong.
"I think the possibilities for intriguing/ Each band member has his own pet memory of Strange Daze, a good ol' fashioned
Ohio rockfest dedicated to the memory of legendary spacerockers Hawkwind,
where Skye Klad performed in August. Bizarre if not lurid tales fly fast and
furious: of people wandering around on an exceedingly warm day in silver body
suits and body paint, attempted onstage invocations of unknown deities, and
chubby Speedo-wearing hippies covered with dirt. But how is it that five young
men with respectable day jobs, fashionably shortish haircuts, and utilitarian
wardrobes tending toward the black end of the spectrum find themselves in
such unusual circumstances?
Predictably enough, it all began in Fargo, in the early Nineties, when Kesselring
and Zaun formed an experimental duo that soon metamorphosed into the Medics,
a psychedelic blues-rock combo. Rechristened Skye Klad, they debuted as openers
for costumed percussion ensemble Savage Aural Hotbed at the University of
Minnesota-Duluth campus. Backstrom joined shortly thereafter, followed by
a succession of bassists and a self-released CD. Some high-profile appearances
with the late, lamented, and (heavily) costumed Ousia earned them a measure
of recognition. Wivinus, having already made his name in Salamander and the
Gentle Tasaday, joined shortly thereafter, as did Wells, whom the others claimed
to have found in a box.
A newly completed, as yet untitled followup CD, produced and engineered by
ex-Ousia/Shapeshifter mainspring Paul Horn at his new Forest Lake studio reveals
a Skye Klad grown considerably harder and darker. Wells's steady bass underpinnings
give Zaun the license to rock without fear or restraint, and the results are
undeniably Sabbathlike at times. Backstrom, a vocal cross between Peter Murphy
in his prime and a de-hippiefied Jim Morrison, with a few dashes of Danzig
tossed in, eschews space rock's lyrical clichés, opting instead for evocations
of seduction, surrender, psychic warfare, and the like. The song "Power" begins:
"You once had power/But now it's dead/Drained from inside you/Like molten
lead." And from there it gets darker.
At a recent performance at the Soap Factory, Skye Klad displayed an economy
of expression and a great sense of urgency--despite the lack of a stage, a
barely adequate sound system, a sparse crowd, and the sort of lighting that
lends itself far more to convenience stores and operating theaters. Wells
and Wivinus struck contemplative poses while Backstrom, his Billy Corgan resemblance
bordering on the macabre, dipped and wove and stared unceasingly, leaving
an impression that seemed friendly enough on the surface, but suggested sinister
undertones (such that, if you were 11 years old, you wouldn't want him for
an uncle).
While occupying a fairly compact area, Kesselring dominated the stage with
serpentine grace. Even his least inspired moments are fueled by 90 percent
testosterone and 111 percent prowess. His most inspired (and they are hardly
rare) display a demonic virtuosity that would have done Liszt or Paganini
proud. Inside the lurid chamber, I was drawn from a momentary distraction
(an architectural detail perhaps, or the curve of a proud derriere) by a severe
sonic disturbance of the highest magnitude. I turned to witness Kesselring,
half-crouched, half-sprawled, at an impossible angle, guitar balanced, or
rather poised, in a phallic manner, playing not two-handed, not one-handed,
but no-handed, somehow channeling a mysteriously melodic stream of feedback.
I doubt Tony Iommi or Randy Rhoads ever pulled that off.
When I later mention the Sabbath/stoner-rock connection to Kesselring, he
responds with a long and well-considered evaluation of that band: "The Sabbath
influence is every bit as undeniable as it is unavoidable. Certainly, they've
attained a degree of success far greater than it seems their modest attributes
would allow....I doubt that they had any idea of what they were really doing,
but still...I mean, the song 'Black Sabbath' itself is genuinely creepy. We
strive to be Sabbath with half the fat and twice the protein."
Skye Klad's choice of styles is neither completely arbitrary nor completely
natural. If anything, you'd have to call it strategic. "We decided to become
a space-rock band purely on the recommendation of a washed-up CIA agent who'd
been involved in some pretty exotic covert operations," explains Wivinus matter-of-factly.
"'What you guys need is a vortex agenda,' he told us. 'You should maybe start
a space-rock band.' After that, we broke up the Medics and started Skye Klad.
And I do feel the space-rock route is still viable, although I wouldn't recommend
it to everyone."
Bringing It All Back Home ·
Vol 21 · Issue 1035
· 10/4/00
wigged-out conversation with the silver-cape-and-tights types are far greater,"
explains Wivinus. "The garter-belt types tend to be somewhat standoffish,
whereas the silver-cape types will gladly give you the lowdown on shapeshifting
aliens and how they're a vehicle for these beings to manifest on the earthly
plane. And that is pretty much the topic of conversation among the bands at
Strange Daze."