Audio By Carbonatix
[Editor’s Note: This is the last time we’ll be running Echoes and Reverberations as a regular feature here on DC9. Will we see future installments? Don’t know yet. But in the meantime, a big thanks to Jeff Liles for the past 30 installments of the series. It’s been fun.]
When I was a little kid our family had four really big peach trees in the back yard. Never could stand the taste of those fucking things, but as it turned out, downer peaches were the perfect projectile. There were hundreds of them scattered everywhere. For most of the kids in our far North Dallas neighborhood, everyday life was a war zone with BB guns, slingshots, rocks and rotting peaches. You got used to looking over your shoulder, lest you catch a sniper’s peach grenade to the side of the head.
That shit hurt.
Bob Watson and I grew up directly across the alley from each other. From that first day in 1969, there was an apparent conflict dynamic–I was a shameless slave to The Beatles; he was all about the Rolling Stones.
While the other kids our age wanted to grow up and become astronauts or Dallas Cowboys, the two of us wanted to be rock and roll stars, off on some oblivious us-against-the-world action.
Bob and I got into all kinds of trouble when we were kids–the usual
stuff, nothing too far off the deep end. What began with throwing
peaches at passing cars quite predictably turned into long hair, bong
hits and keg parties. Both of us got our first musical instruments at
right around the same time. His parents bought him a cheap electric
guitar; my mom and dad got me a drum set that held my attention for
about a week. We were both around 13 years old.
Mark Thomas lived right down the alley. The three of us used to mow
lawns together during the summer. Bob and Mark were always inseparable.
None of us were naturally gifted musicians. Most of our early teen
years were spent jamming on bad cover songs in Mark’s garage or my
upstairs bedroom. We were all still too young to start a real band, but
we were all having fun pretending in the meantime.
One Christmas Eve, Mark left his amp at my house. That night, I
discovered that if you turned the reverb knob all the way to ten, and
then picked up the amp and dropped it on the floor, it made this
magnificent noise–like a giant ringing gong.
I raised the windows of
my room and turned the volume all the way up. You could hear this wild
unexplainable racket all up and down the street. That Christmas
morning, Mark’s mom ran down the alley and showed up at our back door,
yelling and screaming at my mom that I had been destroying her son’s
property.
I did my best to explain to her that I was just exploring the aural
possibilities of the equipment. She just yelled a lot. I would have
pegged her with a peach but they were out of season at the time.
Merry
X-mas, yo.
Eventually, Bob and I began to outgrow our initial musical
obsessions. When my particular taste transitioned from The Beatles to
Led Zeppelin, Bob and Mark stuck with the Stones. When I went from the
Sex Pistols to Public Enemy, they embraced a new British band called
The Cure. Our horizons were broadening. MTV, believe it or not, was
having a positive impact on popular culture.
In 1985, I was in a record shop and saw this handwritten ad for a
new wave band that needed a bass player. They were called Group Six. I
had never played bass before, but I knew the notes were the same on the
top four strings of the guitar. Bill Wisener at Bill’s Records bought
me a maple Fender Precision Bass so I would have a decent instrument for
the audition. When I surprisingly landed the gig, it was sort of my
ticket out of the neighborhood.
Right around that same time, Bob and Mark rounded up one of our J.J.
Pearce High School classmates named J.P. Davidsson, who played drums and
could sing pretty well. The three of them started the first incarnation
of Shallow Reign. A couple of months later, they added a hotshot guitar
player from Highland Park named Patrick Sugg.
J.P. also jammed with Group Six a few times, but we broke up a
couple of months later. Meanwhile, Bob and Mark were having much better
luck with their new combo.
Shallow Reign landed a slot on The Sound of
Deep Ellum compilation album released nationally by Island Records.
They also made a cameo appearance in Oliver Stone’s film Born on the
Fourth of July. In an odd way, they were local pioneers. Shallow Reign
was part of that core first batch of original bands that basically kick-started the Deep Ellum music community during the mid-’80s.
This week, band members, collaborators and fans recollect their
individual experience inside the Shallow Reign orbit of influence.
Bob Watson (guitar, vocals): “Growing up, I listened to Exile On
Main Street so much that I had every sound, every nuance on the album
memorized. Jeff tried to convince me that The Beatles were better, but
I wasn’t hearing it. One day–I guess we were about eight or nine years
old–we were sitting in his bedroom with a couple of girls from the
neighborhood and, just to piss me off, he pointed to his Beatles Let
It Be poster on the wall and told them that I was Paul McCartney’s
cousin. I knew that Paul was his least favorite Beatle, so I could tell
that he was doing that just to mess with me. Keith Richards and Mick
Jagger were just so much cooler than Paul McCartney.”
Jan Paul Davidsson (drummer): “Bob, Mark and I had known each other
since junior high, and also worked together at a grocery store in North
Dallas. In 1982, we decided to get together and play over at a house
that Mark had in Richardson. We came up with a few songs and found out
that Dave Anderson at Zoo Music held a Friday night talent show, and we
decided to play one of these. I think we played three of them and ended
up winning once. In late ’83, Mark and Bob moved out to California to
check out the music scene in L.A. I played in a couple of punk bands and
ended up playing in a band called The Underground with Steve Nutt and
Chris Bell. We were one of the first bands that played downtown at the
Twilight Room. The only other venue that featured punk and cutting-edge
bands was the Hot Klub, and I saw a lot of great music in that place. I
listened to some rock ‘n’ roll, but was more into the alternative music
like PIL, Black Flag, The Stranglers, The Cure, The Smiths, REM, etc.”
Mark Thomas (bass guitar): “Bob Watson (my best friend since second
grade) and I had just returned from our second attempt to move to Los
Angeles. We had recorded a couple demos out there under the names The
Void and The Lost Generation. We were listening to old Stones albums
like Black and Blue, Exile on Main Street and Sticky Fingers, as
well as David Bowie’s Diamond Dogs and Ziggy Stardust. Bob and I
had landscape jobs, but couldn’t seem to make our rent, so we thought
we would try Austin. We were planning on just staying in Dallas long
enough to save enough money for our next move when Liles suggested we
check out a couple of new places that were now allowing original bands
to play. We went down to The Theatre Gallery and saw The End and Three
on a Hill. We met the guys from the bands, and also TG owner Russ Hobbs
that night. The thing we noticed was that each band stayed and watched
the other bands and they were friendly and down to earth. At the same
time, Jeff was turning us on to new bands like REM, The Cure, The Smiths
and Echo and the Bunnymen.”
Davidsson: “Mark and Bob ended up moving back to Dallas
sometime in late 1984. I was playing in The Underground at the time,
and also Group Six (with Jeff Liles and a couple of the guys that ended
up in Feet First.) I moved to a house in Garland and turned the extra
room into a practice studio. Jeff got me back in touch with Mark and
Bob and we decided to get together and play at my house. They told me
about a new club in Deep Ellum called Theatre Gallery and we decided to
see if we could play there. I really liked what was happening with Mark
and Bob. I was doing most of the vocals with, Bob and I trading off on
songs and doing background vocals. We didn’t know how a singing drummer
would work, but we decided to give it a try.”
Thomas: “One night, Jeff showed us a list of band names that he
had come up with on a sheet of paper, and for some reason ‘Shallow
Reign’ stood out. I think we might have changed the spelling from rain’
to ‘reign’, but that was about it. A few months later, we met Patrick Sugg
who was a friend of Tench Coxe and David Mabry from The End. The
addition of the second guitar really helped complete our sound and led
to us recording our first album that we released the following July 4th
at Theatre Gallery, with Three On A Hill releasing their first record
the same night.”
Davidsson: “We played with Three on a Hill, The End and The
Trees and became good friends with all of them. Patrick Sugg, who was 17 years old and a very talented lead guitarist, liked what we
were doing and joined our band. It just kind of took off from there. I
left Group Six and The Underground to go full-time with Shallow Reign.
Deep Ellum was really getting going and we played shows at as many
venues as we could. We also played at the Prophet Bar, Starck Club,
Twilight Room, Club Dada, Club Clearview, Longhorn Ballroom, Sparx, and
the Arcadia Theatre. We had some great shows at Lee Park, played in
Denton a few times, and also at the Caravan of Dreams in Fort Worth. By
1987, we had developed a pretty good regional following and decided to
record a record. We did several shows up in Oklahoma City and met the
guys from the Flaming Lips. We would stay in Wayne Coyne’s place up
there and Michelle, his girlfriend at the time, took our first band
picture.”
Thomas: “Before we had left for Los Angeles, we had played a few
talent shows with J.P. Davidson, who we knew from school and our
grocery store jobs growing up. When we decided to give Dallas another
try, we called him up to see if he could play drums again. Jeff
suggested I try the bass so we wouldn’t have to find a bass player. I
had never really been a lead guitar player, so I gave it a try. I
bought a used Peavey P-40 bass and an old Ampeg amp from Dave Anderson
at Zoo Music. Bob was just discovering digital effects, so he would
come in with a new riff, I would figure out a bass part and J.P. would
play drums, come up with lyrics and sing. Since Bob was doing all the
guitar parts, he didn’t mind letting J.P. do most of the vocals.”
Cricket Taylor (musician): “When I was in high school, going to Deep
Ellum meant there were only three clubs around–and I wasn’t old enough
to get into any of them. Anyway, Patrick Sugg and I sat next to each
other in biology class and he invited me to come check out his band.
That weekend, I told my mother that I was going to spend the night with
some friends for a slumber party. (She had warned me NEVER to go to
Deep Ellum, lest I may get kidnapped or mugged by some crazed punk
rock, skinhead people.) Some friends and I from Arts Magnet went that
night–the first time I’d ever been to Theatre Gallery. It was the
coolest, darkest, sexiest sound I’d ever seen and heard; so mysterious
and forbidden. Literally. I remember feeling both entranced and
spiritually intoxicated with Shallow Reign, from the sounds I saw and
heard. I bought their black-and-white vinyl record (which I still own,
but have worn out), and saw them on many occasions after this, only to
relive the same feeling each time I saw them play. Deep Ellum was
magical then. I miss days when you were there and you knew you were both
part of something great–and at the same time, it was all a big secret!”
Michael Pyeatt (Barley House/Club Dada): “My introduction to Shallow
Reign was from listening to George Gimarc’s ‘Rock and Roll Alternative’
on KZEW. George would sponsor local shows at The Longhorn Ballroom or
Theatre Gallery. Three or four wonderful bands would play–often the
likes of Shallow Reign, End Over End, Three on a Hill, The Trees… ah,
the good ol’ days! In 2000, I was managing and booking Club Dada. I
booked The Alarm and was happy that Shallow Reign would open for Mike
Peters and company, just like they did for The Alarm at the Bronco Bowl
during the late ’80s. It had been a few years since Shallow Reign had
played together, but they sounded better than ever. They gave me chills.
It was awesome.”
Kerry Crafton (producer/engineer): “I met Shallow Reign when we
recorded their first album at my studio in Austin. They were a blend of
influences with a very distinctive sound and vibe. It was bands like
Shallow Reign, The Trees and Three on a Hill that made me decide to
leave Austin and move to Dallas. Shallow Reign wanted to make great
music that was fresh and progressive, yet were still based on great
rock bands from their past from Rolling Stones to Led Zeppelin, as well
as U2 and even Echo and The Bunnymen. Unlike so many Austin bands that
just wanted to be weird and re-invent the wheel, SR paid homage to
their roots and their contemporaries. I still have about a dozen songs
we recorded that were never released. I wish more people could hear
them–they still hold up quite well today. Shallow Reign should have
gotten a major label deal, but the airwaves were filled with jangly,
whiny bands at the time, and they never really found a label that that
got them. It’s a shame.”
David Castell (producer): “I’m really proud of the record we did
that included “Walk With Me.” We recorded in some crazy, run-down rent
house in far North Dallas; I think we did the acoustics at Mark’s mom’s
house. Bob was a big fan of Ovation guitars, but I had never liked them
because they were so thin sounding. I remember tracking the song ‘Dream
Time’ and something clicked; to this day if I’m looking to get a really
airy, angelic acoustic sound, I’ll use an Ovation. I also remember
wanting to use some backward masking on a demo track. Bob didn’t want
to do it because he thought it was evil. I tried to tell him that if it
wasn’t evil forward, then it wouldn’t be evil backwards. But he got
really upset and we didn’t use the effect (although we did use
backwards delay in ‘Walk With Me’). In retrospect, I eventually
understood that it wasn’t about the content of the backwards message
but what ‘the vibe’ of something like that conveyed. Bob was such a
sweet and gentle soul. You can hear it on every song.”
Chris Motley (Club Clearview): “Shallow Reign was easily the nicest
band out of all the early Deep Ellum bands–a really friendly bunch of
guys. I worked with them a bit on lighting at different gigs here and
there and really have no funny anecdotes or dirt on them to pass on…
they weren’t into the shenanigans much, just a bunch of really nice
folks. Well… later on, anyway… I mean, back when Patrick was in the
band things were a little different… a little crazier. There was this
one time at the Arcadia Theatre when Serge walked into the side stage
bathroom and saw Pat… and well… never mind… some stories are
probably best left out of print.”
Chris Morris (graphic artist): “One time, they had a show at
Bricktown in Oklahoma City. I drove my car and Bob played guitar in the
back seat the whole way up there. I was asked to work the stage lights
for the show, and since I knew the songs, figured I could add some punch
with my mad light board skillz. I did more damage than good. Towards
the end of ‘Paint the Flowers All Black’, (when Bob sings ‘black black
black’ a few times) I would shut off all the lights and then bring them
back up and then off over and over again. It was like a bad strobe–a
really irritating blast of light that was blinding to the band, I
learned afterward. It’s a wonder they didn’t walk straight off the
edge of the stage, retinas fried.”
Trent Buckroyd (writer): “When I lived in Los Angeles, NYC
photographer Michael Halsband and I had a record label for a split
second. We tried to sign a band that Patrick Sugg was playing with
called Lucifer Wong. (He had started the band with Eric Brunetti, the
graffiti artist who also started the Fuct t-shirt /clothing line. I
think Matt Sorrum from Guns n’ Roses and the Cult played drums on a few
tracks on the CD, and Rat Scabies from the Damned was on a track, too.)
Pat, Eric, Michael, and I all met at a room at the Chateau Marmont
hotel to try and sign a contract. Patrick and I spoke about Dallas,
Lone Justice, Deep Ellum, the good old days, etc. Pat told me he was a
pilot now and flew planes for huge corporations like Home Depot. Said
he had to fly the next day. We were drinking… a lot, but I still
didn’t buy it. I think they were just using this CD to try and get as
many drinks and lunches as they could from anybody that would offer.
Long story short, they didn’t sign with us. I don’t think they ever had
any intention to. I think they wanted to be like the Sex Pistols and
just jump from label to label with any front money they could get,
which I kinda respect. By this point, Patrick had already been involved
with a few label deals with the majors. Apropos of nothing I now live
two houses away from where he grew up.”
Crafton: “Shallow Reign was a great band that didn’t last
nearly long enough, as far as I am concerned. There live shows were
powerful, entertaining and moving. They were not frenetic or wildly
animated, they let the music speak to the crowd and never failed to
grab an audience by the throat and the heart. I would still jump at the
chance to get them back together and record again. They were great to
work with, talented and one of the bands that should always be
remembered by Dallas music lovers. If there is ever an official Dallas
Music Hall of Fame, they should be inducted in the first round. Without
bands like Shallow Reign, the vibrant Deep Ellum music scene of the
late ’80s never would have happened.”
When J.P. Davidsson quit the band, he was then replaced by a
Oklahoma-based drummer named Brad Robertson. Watson then took over as
the sole lead vocalist. Sugg was replaced by a guitarist named Kit
Chambers. This line-up contributed a song to the Dude, You Rock!
compilation album of Dallas bands released by Triple X Records.
Shallow Reign hung on with new members for a couple of years after
that, then Watson and Thomas broke up the band and started a new group
called Medicine Show Caravan. That band came and went after a couple of
years, then both guys got married and started families.
Priorities
changed, being in a band wasn’t as important as used to be. Thomas
moved down to Austin and Watson moved to a tiny town in Tennessee.
These days, Bob lives a little closer to home, though still in a tiny
town, this time a couple of hours outside Dallas. After a few years off
the reservation, I’ve convinced Bob to let producers Mike Daane and
Chad Lovell help him with a new solo project called Plumbrella.
35 years later, we’re all still alive, the peach trees are gone, and the war across the alley is finally over.
