Throughout the year, Johnson often sent Cole four-track and studio recordings to give him and the label some indication of the Centro's sonic direction. And Cole quite earnestly insists that the new material "definitely picks up where Redo the Stacks left off. It's going to be another great record." So what happened? How, in so short a time, did Cole go from touting Redo the Stacks as one of his "favorite records" to telling the band that if they "pick up the rest of the tab, you can walk the record?"
Cole, for his part, insists it's all business, not at all personal. He says he still adores the band and wishes it well; he says that's why, after spending $8,000 on the disc (mostly for apartment rent during the band's stay in Illinois), he's willing to walk away from it, no strings attached. (If that's indeed the case: Centro-matic's manager, Bob Andrews, is waiting for legal documents to be signed to that effect.)
Johnson remains gracious about the whole affair, though the tone of his voice hints that all is not so amicable as it appears. "For the record, all I'll say, for now, is that Cole's need for our band and our need for our band are different. We'll release the record--whatever we have to do to get the stuff out--we'll self-release it sometime in the fall. Late October, early November, God willing."
As for distribution, Johnson makes noises about a potential deal with Crystal Clear Sound, then adds, "Heck--we'll just stuff the CDs in envelopes, draw friggin' crayon pictures on the front, and sell 'em from our front yard. On a table. Hi! Wanna buy a record? Whatever it takes." The band will have to scrape up the cash for the remaining studio tab and promo photos before releasing anything; likely, Cole says, that will be about $4,000.
It all makes you wonder how Cole would've responded to the new material had PolyGram not been an invading presence. Would he have signed the band, as originally planned?
"Maybe, but we would've had to amend their contract," Cole says. "We would have had to tone down the agreement from what it was and do it on more of a record-by-record basis. [Centro-matic's] lawyer asked for some sizable advances; you can't get a major-label advance for, say, a Guided By Voices record, so we would have had to change the approach."
For Centro-matic's sake, it's better that this all happened now rather than later; after all, if the band had already signed doolittle's dotted line, Cole could have rights over the fate of Johnson's songs. Johnson sounds rightfully disinterested in seeking another label deal. This is Johnson's second time to be burned by a label's agenda: The first occurred while he was the drummer for Funland, which was unceremoniously set free from a promising-turned-hollow deal they inked with Arista. For Johnson, it's been bad luck in the majors, the minors, and the gray spaces in between. No wonder he's resolved to make the new record a band-only release.
Despite the silver lining of Centro-matic's just-in-time liberation from pending disaster, the Austin label's pull-out dashes the band's hopes for a substantial promotional tour, which was to have taken up the better part of the fall. This kind of extensive road work has boosted doolittle mainstays Slobberbone's profile and record sales all along. Slobberbone has garnered a staggering tour habit--more than 200 dates in a year.
Which brings up the question of Slobberbone's fate in light of the doolittle's PolyGram deal. Thus far, Cole estimates that about 17,000 copies of the band's doolittle release Barrel Chested have been sold--with about 5,000 of those going in the Netherlands alone. Slobberbone has sold much of that figure from the back of their own tour van, but for a band on an indie label, this spells relative success. Though Cole insists he's not a "glorified A&R guy" for PolyGram now, doolittle's new distribution deal with PolyGram could either be a boon for Slobberbone's career--finally launching them into a bigger, much-deserved spotlight--or mean Brent Best and crew will find themselves lost in hostile territory. Time will tell.
Cole's next Great White Hope is St. Louis' Bottle Rockets; he's been angling to sign the major-label veterans who have been without a label since their falling-out with Atlantic. (The label spent $40,000 on a video that's turned out to be nothing more than an expensive souvenir.) The Rockets may find a kindred spirit in Cole--though why the Bottle Rockets would ever want to sign to a label, major or minor, ever again is beyond comprehension.
"[The PGD deal] allows me to compete for the bands that have some major-label interest," Cole contends. "But they wouldn't be on a label owned by PolyGram. We have the financial incentive to promote the bands. Brent [Best] and the Bottle Rockets and Mount Pilot [another doolittle band] can still make the kinds of records they want to make." Well, just as long as they're commercially responsible.
--Christina Rees and Robert Wilonsky
Send Street Beat your record-label horror stories to rwilonsky@dallasobserver.com. Remember: Just say no.
