By Jeremy Hallock
By James Khubiar
By Observer Staff
By Kelly Dearmore
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It's always an odd thing for a band—and its fans—if it eventually breaks through to a wider audience. No musician embarks on a career just to be a cult favorite, but "early" fans always take a certain caustic pride of ownership, in being able to say that they were into the group way before most people.
Maryland-marinated rockers O.A.R. (which stands for "Of a Revolution") are standing on said precipice. After six studio and three live records, their most recent effort, All Sides, has spawned a Top 40 single and heavy VH-1 rotation with the melodic "Shattered." Guitarist Richard On is happy for the exposure, but also keenly aware of the challenges created by it.
"It's crazy now," he says. "When we talk to fans after the show, the demographic has spread so wide with the song, especially the older audience. We realized that we had something special in the studio when we were recording it."
On adds that the entire process of making All Sides took O.A.R. into new areas—including geographically. The band recorded in L.A., and vocalist/guitarist Marc Roberge wanted a "road experience" to inspire his lyrics. So he and his family set out on a cross-country trek to the studio. Not surprisingly, many of the tunes are about moving ahead, moving forward and, well, moving somewhere.
"The lyrics sparked the music this time, when it's usually the other way around," On offers. "And this time we didn't feel rushed. We were ourselves."
O.A.R.'s origins started in, of all places, junior high school. That's where Roberge, drummer Chris Culos and On first started playing together. They picked up bassist Benj Gershman at their Rockville, Maryland, high school, forming O.A.R. in 1996, then adding saxophone/guitarist Jerry DePizzo at Ohio State University.
O.A.R.'s alternative/jam-band style of rock became popular on campuses in the region, and the group released demo The Wanderer in 1997. Over the next few years, fans responded to high-energy songs like "Hey Girl," "City on Down" and "That Was a Crazy Game of Poker," and the group found itself drawn into the collegiate "jam" scene that also spawned the Dave Matthews Band. Likewise, O.A.R. encouraged fans to tape and trade its shows, thus further spreading the music in the early days before downloading and bit-torrent streams.
Still, "jam band" is a moniker that O.A.R. embraces—even if others do not.
"It hurt us for awhile with places like MTV. When they think of jam bands, they think of fans who are dirty hippies tripping on LSD all the time," On laughs. "But it's actually a badge of honor, because jam bands are so talented, and to get up there and just keep the audience's attention with a solo or stretching out a song takes a lot."
Not that On indulges in many 20-minute guitar solos. On All Sides, his longest six-string break (on funky "Living in the End") barely registers on the clock at all before it's gone.
"Well, I'm limited compared to what a lot of guys can do!" On laughs. "But that song had a classic-rock feel to it, so we wanted to have a solo. Any longer, and it could have gone sour."
The band has experienced plenty of said sour moments. After all, not many acts can claim to be both buddies and band members since before they could shave. And while On says tensions used to occasionally ride high, things are more "diplomatic" now, and the group is more likely to sit down and discuss its problems rather than fly into actions or recriminations.
"We've definitely had our moments when things were really, really hard. It's like being in a marriage with five guys," On notes. "But you just have to swallow your pride and get rid of the egos. We're all in the same boat with the same goal."
That goal, On says, has always been pretty simple, though: just spread the band's music as far as it can go. Until recently, though, that didn't include much of North Texas at all.
"It was that way with Dallas [for a while]," he says. "[But] we've finally cracked Texas!"
Maybe the Top 40 ain't so bad after all.