By Kelly Dearmore
By Jim Schutze
By Rachel Watts
By Lauren Drewes Daniels
By Anna Merlan
By Lee Escobedo
By Alice Laussade
Chris Lewellyn is one of the last true believers--one of the few people around who still sees Deep Ellum as a community, still thinks in terms of us instead of me, still believes in a scene. You've probably never heard of him, because as much as he loves music, the 23-year-old Lewellyn knows his place isn't on stage or in a recording studio; it's behind the scenes. He's labored there for years, manningthe merchandise booth at Reverend Horton Heat concerts, working at Last Beat Records, organizing all-ages shows at the now-defunct Orbit Room, anything and everything to do his part. Lewellyn's an unsung hero of Dallas music, an enthusiastic cheerleader not content to stay on the sidelines, getting dirty with the rest of the offensive line until the home team scores.
Recently, Lewellyn has stepped up his role, become a part of the structure he has long helped support. Last year, he assembled two fine compilations of local bands (part of his Dos Sensenseos fanzine), and last month, he put the finishing touches on the first release on his own record label, Clandestine Project Recordings. The album--Essays on: Frantic Desperation, Anihilation, and From Another Passerby, a three-way dance featuring Dallas' The Paper Chase, Denton's E-Class, and Birmingham, Alabama's Lugsole--is an ambitious debut, put together with the kind of care that empties bank accounts.
Not that a negative bank balance matters much to Lewellyn. He realizes he probably won't see a dime from Essays' release; he'll be lucky if he even recoups his initial investment. But money isn't the driving force behind Clandestine Project Recordings. Like with the pair of Dos Sensenseos comps, it's more about giving exposure to bands he likes, bands that get lost in the cracks between Denton and Dallas. To Lewellyn, if any of the groups benefit from Essays--financially or otherwise--then it can be considered a success.
If he happens to benefit too, well, that's even better, but it's not the bottom line. He's a fan first, and being a businessman doesn't even crack the top 10. The only bottom line he's concerned with is helping out deserving bands. But he knows better than to make any promises. After all, at this point, he's struggling as much as they are.
The only promise Lewellyn has made so far is the one contained on Essays. It's a promise of things to come from Lewellyn and Clandestine Project Recordings, and of the potential of the bands included on the album. Essays is a thrilling disc, a three-headed monster that attacks you from every side, The Paper Chase's unsettling noise arm-in-arm with E-Class' jagged pop and Lugsole's combination of the two. The bands are similar enough to share space, but at times, their styles diverge so wildly, you begin to wonder how they ended up together. For Lewellyn, it was simple.
"I've always been a big fan of Paper Chase," Lewellyn says. "They're easily one of my favorite bands ever. And then E-Class, I saw at Fry Street Fair for like 10 minutes and fell in love with them. And Lugsole I heard on a comp about a year ago, and then I tracked them down, found out they were from Alabama and all of that. That was basically that. And everyone liked each other. That was the cool thing with it. It kind of seemed to give them a bond with each other and helped them promote each other. All the bands want Lugsole to come up, and Lugsole wants all the bands to come down. They've got sort of a friendship out of it."
Actually, The Paper Chase and E-Class had already built a healthy friendship before the project, often appearing on the same bills in Dallas and Denton, not only out of necessity but also because of a mutual respect. In fact, The Paper Chase's inclusion on Essays was one of the reasons E-Class decided to participate. Both bands have been around a couple of years, lingering in the shadows. They were two of the bands who frequently played the afternoon all-ages shows at the Orbit Room that Lewellyn helped arrange. With the Orbit Room's demise, The Paper Chase and E-Class have been shooed further out onto the fringes, finding a home at Denton's Rubber Gloves Rehearsal Studios and almost nowhere else. They need each other's help now more than ever.
"The Paper Chase are our good friends, but more than that, we love the music that they play," says Eric Whitworth, E-Class' singer. "That was one of the main things. When he was telling us what bands were going to be on it, we were like, 'Yeah, definitely, if they're going to be on it.'"
Clandestine Project is a more focused version of Dos Sensenseos, a chance to shine a bigger spotlight on some of his favorite bands. Of course, a bigger spotlight also means a bigger budget. For the Dos Sensenseos albums, Lewellyn had the benefit of label support; this time, he was the label. To get Clandestine Project off of the ground, Lewellyn borrowed $5,000 from friends and family, and threw in a few thousand of his own. He says he could have taken out a loan from a bank, but he laughs, "My parents would rather make the money." It's not exactly pocket change to someone who works at Whole Foods to keep his rock-and-roll dreams alive (he quit his job at Last Beat a while back), yet Lewellyn seems unconcerned, already making plans to release two more three-way splits, featuring local groups such as Budapest One (featured on page 79 of this issue) and Policy, as well as El Paso's At The Drive-In and Chicago's Hi-Fi and the Roadburners.