New Paisley Days for the Jupiter Affect

Jupiter Affect frontman Michael Querico is tracing the evolution of his fixation with the Sixties music that has permeated his own music during the last eighteen years of his career, culminating in his present band's new album, Instructions for the Two Ways of Becoming Alice. He pinpoints his teenage musical epiphany to one album: "Probably the biggest thing was the Nuggets album, that Lenny Kaye one," he says, citing the compilation of one-hit-wonder, American psychedelic garage rock bands that the future Patti Smith guitarist assembled in 1972. "I found that for two dollars, sealed, in some record store bargain bin. I played that, and I was like, 'Wow!' From there I got into Love and Arthur Lee, and that just blew my mind. People would say, 'Why do you like that old music?' Then I discovered a lot of people who liked that music."

Indeed he did. And out of those like-minded people sprang a host of bands -- the Dream Syndicate, the Bangles, Rain Parade, Green on Red, and Quercio's own group, the Three O'Clock -- who made noise in early-Eighties' Los Angeles by putting their own spin on the "old music" they were so enamored with. Though each group was distinct in sound, they would forever be bound together by Quercio's offhand label, "the Paisley Underground."

But if Quercio holds the dubious honor of naming that short-lived scene, he can also be credited with producing its most enduring artifact: the Three O'Clock's first full-length album, 1983's Sixteen Tambourines, which blended the strong melodies and sonic adventurousness of bands like the Move, Syd Barrett-era Pink Floyd and the early Bee Gees with a New Wave vivacity. The indie release earned them a hit with the single "Jet Fighter" and a spot on IRS's roster, but what seemed like a promising start turned out to be the beginning of a slow decline as the major-label machinery attempted, usually successfully, to get Quercio to conform his music to Eighties' commercial standards. Even a jump to Prince's Paisley Park label and a complimentary tune from his purple majesty couldn't stop the inevitable.

"Coming out of the Three O'Clock, I was like, 'I don't want to front a band,'" Quercio says. "I just wanted to be a member of some sort of confederation. I didn't want all the pressure."

After toying with the idea of forming a new group with Game Theory's Scott Miller, Quercio put together the hard-rocking trio Permanent Green light. But after two albums of sharing songwriting duties with a bandmate, Quercio reconsidered his situation.

"I realized it wasn't as rewarding," he says, laughing. "[But] I had to do that to realize what I really love to do is front a band."

He found his bliss when he formed the Jupiter Affect three years ago. After priming the pump with a self-titled five-song EP, Quercio took the band -- guitarists Jason Shapiro and Dan Epstein (recently replaced by John Kling), and drummer Chris Bruckner -- into the studio to make the kind of record he'd like to hear.

Seldom has an artist reclaimed his mojo as completely and convincingly as Quercio does on Instructions for the Two Ways of Becoming Alice, produced by Earle Mankey, who did Sixteen Tambourines. The album's thirteen songs narrow the gap between the paisley pop of the Three O'Clock and PGL's edgier rock and glimmer with a psychedelic sheen. Whether it's the apocalyptic, "A Day in the Life"-like interlude in the acoustic ballad "Michael and Mary," the sitar intro and rolling bass line of "I See the Sun," or the crowd applause that heralds the two worthy guitar solos on "Druscilla I Dig Your Scene," it's in the artful details that you can feel Quercio's renewed vigor.

"The EP was done so quickly, there was no time to really experiment," Quercio says. "We kind of went in, plugged the amp in, in an hour your done and it's a record. But for this we got to sit down [and actually arrange it]. I have fun making those kinds of records."

Quercio explains that there is a theme developed during the course of the album based on The Chemical Wedding of Christian Rosencreutz, the fifteenth century Rosecrucian manifesto on the inner transformation of the soul. In fact, one of the album's best tracks bears the text's cumbersome title.

"'White Knuckle Sound' starts the album out with an incident of confusion and that's where the story takes off," Quercio says. "Then the record ends with 'We Don't Believe You,' which means all of this may be suspect."

And that's all he's going to give away. Apparently, listeners need to hunker down with a copy of the medieval tome and fill in the blanks themselves. But despite any cryptic concepts, the album's gotten an enthusiastic response.

"We thought we were putting out this freaky thing that people were just going to scratch their heads at," he says, "but we're glad we were able to go a little out there -- and that people are willing to come out there with us."

MICHAEL ANSALDO
(May 18, 2000)