The high-speed chase by major record labels to sign the Next Big Thing has worn the wales off many a fledgling rock band's corduroys. Over the course of the Nineties, the path from demo band to signed-n-promoted act has been so shortened that in the time it takes to de-tune a guitar, another CD store bin is crammed with second, third and fourth-rate bands. |

"It made it impossible for there to be any sort of an underground scene," says singer/guitarist Eric Bachmann of indie stalwarts Archers of Loaf, referring to the feeding frenzy. "The minute a band put out a single, the major labels knew about it. People who were doing dishes really hated being poor, so they took a chance, signed to a label and got dropped a year later."

This race to cash in has saturated everything from CD stores to clubs to MTV. With so many bands vying for attention, it has become -- quite literally -- more difficult to uncover the bands that truly are worth listening to.

"Once Beck said, 'I wish there would be less rock music,'" Bachmann remembers. "And I thought, 'That's a shame.' But I think what he was trying to say here is that there aren't too many rock bands, there are too many shitty rock bands."

Bachmann clarifies the problem, as he sees it: "When I say shitty rock bands, I'll be perfectly blunt, I think of bands like Everclear and Matchbox 20 -- bands that are really boring."

It would be easy to dismiss his assessment as sonic "sour grapes" had Bachmann and the Archers not experienced the temptation first hand. His words are not merely those of an indie rock casualty who had visions of major label glory only to have them sprung like a tightly wound guitar string. The Archers of Loaf were courted early in their career by a music industry heavyweight, namely Maverick CEO Madonna. Choosing to remain true to their ethic, the band turned her down.

"I have no problem with major labels, we just weren't ready for that at that time, and we aren't now," Bachmann continues. "I don't think we turned them down because we're too cool for them -- although, to be a complete asshole, I don't want to be associated with Candlebox or Alanis Morissette. By saying that, we're saying we're cooler than that. I don't want to sound like I'm better than anybody, but fuck it."

With that sentiment in mind, and the band's self-described former "fuck the man" attitude, it's seems only fitting that their new release is titled White Trash Heroes. A heartfelt, good-natured nod to their roots, the album contains some of the Archers' most sophisticated song writing to date.

"I just wanted to spout out some lyrics about western North Carolina, which is where we're from," Bachmann explains. "I'm not using white trash in a derogatory way. We're not making any social comments about the times. [The title] just refers to things I knew about and wanted to write about.

"My mom's side of the family, we're very rural and I'm very proud of it," says Bachmann of his family tree. "We're from Rockingham, N.C., and [my relatives] all ran stills. My grandfather's sisters' names are Sudie Mae and Fannie Mae and they have no teeth. I have this Uncle Ron who has a plate in his head from playing Russian roulette. He wears a NC State cap all the time. They're awesome people. When I go home for holidays, this is who I hang out with.

"They're totally unaware of things like computers," he says before his beaming epithet, "They're fucking great."

Like Bachmann's family, the Archers of Loaf remain an unassuming, proud group who do things their own way in their own time, regardless of what the world does around them.

STEVE GDULA(September 18, 1998)