Prosolar Mechanics: WE Fest 2000
By Jim Testa
When Stuart Wexler started putting together
a documentary film about the New Brunswick
indie-rock scene of the Nineties, he managed
to put a lot more in motion too. In November,
three of the most popular bands of that era
– Aviso’Hara, Bionic Rhoda, and
Boss Jim Gettys – reunited for a nearly
sold-out show in the venerable basement of
the Court Tavern. Inspired by the slogan that
was once painted above that stage –
“Cruel But Fair” – Wexler
continues to work on the film as three more
Brunfuss bands prepare to perform together
again. On Saturday, December 26, Prosolar
Mechanics, Buzzkill, Stuntcocks, and 3 To
6 Inches will be at the Court, and we couldn’t
resist the chance to catch up with Prosolar’s
Alex Saville and Amy Jacob to see what they’ve
been up to for the last decade or so.
Alex and one of the newest members of Prosolar
Mechanics
Q: It's been almost 10 years since
Prosolar disappeared, I guess we should start
with what you and Amy have been doing personally,
professionally, and if anything, music-wise
for the last decade or so.
Amy: Good god, where do we begin? For starters,
we actually played our last show, almost to
the day, in December of 2001, so it's been
8 years for us. Eight years isn't all that
long, is it? It sure doesn't feel like it.
We continued to work and write as a band until
as late as 2006 - we just didn't play any
shows. A couple of songs we wrote in that
period are going to be (finally) debuted at
this show. We stopped working on music with
any consistency some point after Alex started
graduate school in the fall of 2006 and I
started my odyssey to get pregnant, which
finally ended happily this past January in
twin boys.
It never felt right, really, to not be in
Prosolar Mechanics, and it's with some bad
taste in my mouth that I'd call this upcoming
show a "reunion." Alex, Mike and
I never officially "broke up" as
a band or otherwise. We just stopped working
on music until this came up, at which point
we all enthusiastically jumped on board.
Professionally (you can cut this, or anything
you want for that matter) I've been working
as a therapist for teenagers, which is something
I've done since 1998. I went into private
practice for awhile, got incredibly burned
out doing that and dealing with a lot of personal
stuff. Got pregnant, had a bunch of time off,
went back to work this April with a good deal
of reluctance.
Amy, 2009
Alex: I'd second the "we didn't break
up" sentiment. As far as the fans are
concerned, we might as well have, but the
three of us remain close and have probably
written more material since 2001 than we did
in the entire time the band was playing live.
Amy and I married in 2002 and I had a few
years of bouncing around until I got serious
and went back to school to get an MFA in writing
in 2006. I've finished the degree and will
be teaching at NJCU in the spring. (A position
I was able to get in part because of connections
made playing music - Amy sang backup on a
song for Tris McCall's new album and got talking
to his girlfriend Hilary, who it turns out
is co-chair of the English Dept. at NJCU,
and so it goes.)
Q:
When Stu Wexler approached you about performing
as Prosolar Mechanics again, did you immediately
say yes or did you have to think about it?
It seems to me there's got to be some pain
mixed in with the joy with something like
this.
Amy: We jumped right on it, but it wasn't
without some pain and as we rehearse and play
our old material and think about the things
we wish we'd accomplished and didn't, there's
a lot to deal with. It isn't something we've
talked about as a band, but it's definitely
something I think about all the time. There's
infinitely more joy than pain involved here,
and it also has us thinking about what we
want to do in the future.
There's also a tinge of "holy shit -
what have we gotten ourselves into?"
With ten-month old boys at home, we can't
just crank up our amps and practice anytime
we want. We're really limited to what kind
of time we have to prepare, and now that it's
down to the wire, well, I'm nervous.
Alex: I may have had some reservations, but
I can't remember them now. I think I mostly
jumped right on it. Live performance is one
of my great loves. The pain is mostly connected
to how much work it has been for me to re-engage
with some of the material. I hadn't played
my guitar at all for about two years, let
alone attempted to remember some of the older
material we'll be breaking out for the show.
Making that stuff sound viable again is difficult,
and the last thing I want to sound like at
this show is a shadow of our former selves.
The bands at the first show after Thanksgiving
really set the bar high, and I'd like to make
sure the show on the 26th is at least half
as fun as that one.
Q:
Prosolar (at least as I recall) broke up over
drummer issues, so I guess we should ask who
will be playing drums in December? And while
we're at it, what's it been like rehearsing?
Boss Jim Gettys did their Court reunion show
with two rehearsals; somehow I don't see Prosolar
Mechanics doing that, given what perfectionists
you always were. I'm guessing there were unreleased
(or at least unfinished) songs when you broke
up, will we hear any of that?
Amy: Well, technically we never broke up.
We just sort of stalled out. We had the pleasure
of playing with Trip Hosmer, formerly of Stereobate
and then of Unlove. God, he was a great drummer
for us. I really regret we didn't have our
shit together enough at that time to make
that work out. We got as far as recording
some demos, which I never put the vocals on.
We really, really stalled out. A lot of the
reason for that was that I was incredibly
burned out. Not on music as much as on everything.
I went through a really rough period of personal
losses and it just affected everything I did.
It was like I didn't have the energy to get
shit done anymore.
Alex Posilkin (formerly of the Faux Monks),
a good friend and excellent drummer, is going
to play with us. Rehearsing is painful because
we've been really out of practice and we're
not the Boss Jim Gettys. But we're slowly
getting there. We'll be playing two songs
nobody has heard before.
Mike
and Alex in the Prosolar home studio, 2009
Alex: I'll just add that it wasn't really
drummer issues that caused us to stall out,
it had more to do with an inability to sustain
the energy required and have a clear vision
for what we wanted to do. Amy and I used to
fight as hard as we ever did over anything
when it came to working together in the band,
and I think that tension was a real energy
suck for anyone involved. We've mostly outgrown
that nonsense, though we still bitch at each
other as only married people can. I'm the
worst. Everyone else we've ever worked with
has been for the large part incredibly professional.
And yes, we're practicing. Two rehearsals
in, I couldn't even play through all the songs
in the set without coming to a complete stop
on about four of them. We're past that now,
and it feels good to sound like a band again.
Amy and Mike, 2000
Q: There's obviously a lot of nostalgia
in the whole "Cruel But Fair" phenomenon,
but there's also no denying that something
very meaningful was happening in New Brunswick
in the mid to late Nineties. Other than "right
people, right place, right time," do
you have any insight you want to share on
what made that era special?
Amy: By and large, those of us who were a
part of that scene were good to each other.
That's what made it so special. We were family.
I don't know why we were like that, and certainly
not everyone felt that way, but that was my
experience. We gave each other a lot of respect
and a lot of encouragement. I've never been
a part of anything like it since. I miss it
terribly.
We were all so musically different from each
other, too. I guess we embraced the idea of
trying to be original in that part of the
scene that Prosolar was in. So there was no
other band quite like us. There was no other
band like 3 To 6 inches or Aviso or Plug Spark
Sanjay or ExModels or Buzzkill or The Stuntcocks
or The Urchins or… anyway, you get the
idea. We all played bills together all the
time, but we were all different bands - we
had our own ideas, our own voices. I think
that made it special, but it also meant big
commercial success was never going to come
easy for any of us. And we all would have
been happy to reach a higher level of commercial
success than any of us did, I think.
Alex: I think there are always a lot of
creative bands/musicians out there to be heard--maybe
now even more than ever. Every so often, a
critical mass happens where there's enough
interaction between bands and enough good
will between enough of them that "scenes"
happen. New Brunswick was one of those places
all through the 90s. I think it really started
back in the 80s when people like Matt Pinfield
and Martin Atkins were in town and there was
more of a link between the Rutgers community
and the locals and even the larger indie music
world. Those connections were long gone in
the 90s, but a lot of the energy and enthusiasm
for live music remained. The fact that there
was little chance of national attention made
it all the more insular and kept a lot of
influences that can fan animosity and jealousies
out of the scene. Also, there was a lot of
drive from some bands to play outside of the
scene and bring other good bands in; this
was only reinforced when WE Fest started bringing
bands from all over together down in Wilmington,
NC.
Alex and drummer Dave Reynolds, Arlene Grocery,
2000
Q: Somebody joked at the first Cruel
But Fair show at the Court that "we're
putting the crowd back together." It
really felt like more than just three bands
reunited that night, and I've heard from several
people that a lot of fences were mended and
old scores were laid to rest. It's almost
as if the show was fueled as much by a need
for closure as nostalgia. How did that show
affect you personally and what feelings did
you bring away from it?
Alex: I had a great time, and yes, I think
enough time had passed that a lot of petty
things were easily set aside. I even think
the happiness of the evening made some of
that happen. If that was accomplished, well
it's more than can be expected.
Q: New Brunswick went from five or
more venues in its Nineties heyday to just
the Court Tavern (and not one record store
left!) today. It seems to me that's pushed
the creative energy in town into the DIY basement
scene (which, for example, produced the Ergs,
Gaslight Anthem, and Screaming Females.) The
NB police never liked basement shows but lately
it seems like the city has declared all-out
war on that scene. Does indie music have a
role in the New Brunswick of 2010?
Alex: The NB Police should have better things
to do than harass kids putting on basement
shows. In fact, police pressure may only increase
the energy in the scene, as negative as that
is. I'm proud that the Brumfuss basement scene
has produced those bands--with some success
well beyond most of what we were able to do.
Indie music will always happen where there
are enough people who want to play it. The
presence of Rutgers ensures that will happen,
even if the larger student body never embraces
it or is aware of what cool stuff happens
in their midst while they bump uglies at whatever
Easton Ave. hole they crawl into.
