San Jose Mercury News West (Sept. 7, 1997) HEADING FOR THE SUN written by: Tracie Cone photography: Richard Koci Hernandez 1997 all rights reserved
HEADING FOR THE SUN | BEING HERE | CREATING AN IMAGE | COVERING PEARL JAMBECOMING PART OF SOMETHING | FINDING A HIT | GETTING THE BREAK | THINGS GET EVEN BETTER COVERING PEARL JAM
When the band signed with Interscope in June, Greg Camp was the king of cover bands in San Jose. At Lynbrook High School in West San Jose, his bands, influenced by '80s groups like the Police, the Go-Gos and Men at Work, played house parties. In '91 he joined the Gents, which still plays every week--now without Camp--at Boswell's in Campbell's PruneYard for $400 plus a percentage of the bar. The gigs paid the bills and left days free for songwriting, but who wants to spend his life playing someone else's songs?
"I used to hate it so much I'd get drunk," Camp says. "The worst nights were around Thanksgiving and Christmas when your friends come home for the holidays and see you still in San Jose playing in cover bands. Sometimes I had to play with my back to the audience."
Paul De Lisle played frat parties while at San Jose State, and he did the Central Valley county fair circuit with the Drifters, but his steady gigs were at Boswell's, McNeill's and the other local bars catering to that straight suburban crowd that still enjoys dancing to "Louie Louie." Then one night in 1990 De Lisle saw Camp perform. "The songs he played and the way he played them made me think, 'This dude is into the same things as me,'" De Lisle says. They stayed with their old bands and formed a new one together called Lackadaddy.
Kevin Coleman and Steve Harwell had the same idea when they saw Camp at Boswell's in 1993. Coleman and Harwell had started playing together in West San Jose in sixth grade. Coleman was the musician; Harwell was the showman who wanted to be Elvis center stage with a microphone in his hand.
"My mom used to tell me that I was going to be the first millionaire in the family," says Harwell, whose father was a UPS driver. "I was an off-the-wall kid. I always tried to entertain my family."
When rap was sweeping the 'burbs in the early '90s, Harwell thought he found his chance. He recorded a single as F.O.S. (Freedom of Speech), made connections to get it played on Hot 97.7, and secured a contract that turned out to be short-lived.
"The style I was doing was on its way out," he says.
Harwell, who earned his living as a Harley mechanic, and Coleman, who painted houses, tried to convince Camp they had an idea for a new sound that would sell. They needed his help, but Camp wasn't interested in another project.
So Kevin says, "OK, then go play another Pearl Jam cover,'" Camp recalls. "That hurt."
"I was drinking back then," Coleman says. "I was kind of a jerk."
But Coleman hit a nerve, and Camp agreed to help with one project. Harwell and Coleman showed up the next morning with a recording of a drum beat and rap lyrics.
"I'd never written to a drum beat before," Camp says, "but I finally wrote a guitar part and recorded it and they were, like, 'cool.' I thought they'd go home and nothing would happen and I could go back to my pathetic cover band."
They didn't go away. Harwell still had connections from his rapping days: a manager and a well-connected attorney in L.A. Harwell wanted to shop the song Camp did to record companies, radio stations, anyone who might make something happen. But first they needed a band photo to go with the record. And they needed a fourth person to make the band look complete. So Camp called De Lisle.
CONTENTS: HEADING FOR THE SUN BEING HERE CREATING AN IMAGE COVERING PEARL JAM BECOMING PART OF SOMETHING FINDING A HIT GETTING THE BREAK THINGS GET EVEN BETTER BACK TO BILL'S SMASH MOUTH MAIN PAGE