Success story The big time doesn’t elude the Slip BY BOB GULLA

Is it possible to play the kind of music you were born to play and still succeed? Isn’t it necessary to compromise somewhere along the line? The success of the Slip, perhaps our biggest local heroes these days, proves that you can indeed explore the brave new worlds of pop however you please and still manage to drum up enough fans to make it all worthwhile. Not only that, the Slip has shown that you can take that courage and apply it to the stage — delve, improvise, experiment — and you’ll turn on audiences in even greater numbers. Is the Slip an anomaly? Or is music becoming more and more the bailiwick of the stage, less reliant on successful recordings? I’m not sure, and neither is the Slip. But given their current success, the band — Andrew Barr (drums), Marc Friedman (bass), and Brad Barr (guitar, vox), all Berklee dropouts — isn’t quibbling.

Over the past year and a half, the trio has made the kind of progress that local bands only dream about. They’ve played festivals like Bonnaroo (yep, 80,000 plus fans), Bumbershoot out in Seattle, and SXSW down in Austin. They’ve played the stage of Austin City Limits and opened a few shows for the Allman Brothers Band. This kind of thing isn’t supposed to happen to outfits from our neck of the woods. But it’s happening for the Slip, in a most unorthodox way.

After eight years of touring and self-producing records, Brad, Marc, and Andrew have stumbled into something . . . I mean, they’ve cleverly devised a way to turn their idiosyncratic craftsmanship into something universally appealing. Strange thing is, that has nothing to do with selling a boatload of records, packing in tight, supersaturated power chords into three-minute uber-productions, or riffing over a monotonous funk rhythm. Rather, it’s just the opposite. The Slip sound is a mix of hippie jug band, jazz fusion, and ambient pop. They rarely lapse into cliché. They always find a zone in which listeners discover the dazzling possibilities and revelations of improvisation.

They have a few recordings out, boutique things mainly that are interesting only in biding time between seeing live dates. Fortunately for local fans, we have a few Slip sightings coming up in the near future. The band is going to be at Lupo’s on Wednesday (the 29th) with John Brown’s Body, a gig put on in association with the Rhode Island Food Bank. Attendees will be asked to donate non-perishables which will later be dispersed to families in need. It’s an all-ages show and doors open at 8 p.m. Tickets are $15.

On Friday, December 31 — New Year’s Eve — the Slip presents "Zors Luminum Particles II," an infamous three-set, no-holds-barred night of debauchery. Or in their terms, a "Year of the Rooster Extravaganza!" Whatever you wanna call it, it’s about as much Slip as a fan of super-space roots music can handle. That one goes down at the Narrows Center for the Arts in Fall River, Massachusetts. It’s worth the short trip and the ticket price, which is $35. Go to www.theslip.com for way more information, and to stream some of the live stuff I’ve been talking about.

SLIP SLIDIN’ AWAY. For every success story like the Slip’s, there’s a jillion (OK, so the actually percentage escapes me) bands that don’t get it done. And for every band that doesn’t get it done, there’s a jillion (yeah, I forget that figure, too) reasons that it doesn’t work out. Take Slugworth, for example. Ten years ago, the band, spearheaded by local rock aficionado Satyr, came together with the best of intentions and realistic expectations. The idea was to write some songs, play some high profile gigs, and stay busy. Busy means progress, especially in rock circles, where activity and vitality mean everything. And if you’re not in the public eye, you’re basically in no eye at all. "I didn’t want it to be about getting together a handful of times a month to drink beer and jam with no aspirations," says Satyr. "This band from Day 1 was all about working hard and trying to make it."

Such a simple sentiment, nearly impossible to execute. You see, it’s that "working hard" part that gets people. Lotsa folks who join bands confuse rock and roll for fun. Sorry. Wrong number. Making a living as a musician requires lots and lots of hard work, the kind of application that few people who get into the business can fathom. Slugworth worked hard for a while. They applied themselves over and over, with a bunch of nice headlining slots to show for it, and a few cool studio sessions that made it onto CD. But lineup bugaboos forced the band’s hand. Satyr lost a rhythm section and lost some momentum, but felt he regained it when he found a couple of new young guys. Then came a steady decline. Practice time fizzled, ambition dried up, motivation disappeared. After months of agonizing, of envisioning what it would be like to throw countless hours of time and energy out the van window, Satyr pulled the plug.

"It’s pretty disappointing," he says, "but I’ve been doing and championing local music since 1991, so nothing really phases me that much anymore. It’s just wild to see [bands] let very possible opportunities pass them by due to nothing more than their total lack of motivation and laziness."

Does this depiction sound familiar? Does the scenario ring the ol’ bell? Think of all the pieces a band must put in place before it succeeds. Is your band on the right track, working hard, making progress? Or is it using rehearsals as excuses to have a few beers and screw off? Yeah, it can do both, but eventually, one of those approaches has to win out, and it ain’t the beer.

As for Satyr, well, he’s going unplugged. "I’ll be buying a kick ass acoustic guitar after Christmas," he plans, adding he’s "looking out for acoustic opening slots and cover sets down at the beaches during the summer." This also means he’ll be selling the tools of his electric trade. Will his past rock history — three discs, hundreds of gigs, lots of good will — keep his unplugged self in the public eye? Or will his life’s work slip out the window, along with all those beautiful decibels?

"As I talk to people about this, I clearly see the looks on other musicians’ faces," Satyr concludes. "Either they realize that they’re unmotivated lazy shits or that they’re dealing with others who are. It’s funny. Is it so wrong to actually be focused? Is it wrong to know what you want and not settle for less than the required minimum?"

AMOS HOUSE. Sometimes, though we as music-oriented people might try to blot out reality, life ain’t always about music. Sometimes it’s about people. Richard Walton, beloved liberal, charitable soul, and caretaker of the socially conscious/politically active set, reminds us about Amos House, a local homeless shelter. Put off by the rampant commercialism surrounding the upcoming holiday, Walton traditionally spends Christmas Eve and Christmas morning at the shelter, helping the residents celebrate. "Amos House is now busier than I have ever known it in my more than 20 years there," he says, "and so the need for donations is greater than ever." In the true spirit of the season, if you feel you can muster up the generosity, send donations to Walton at 5 Grenore Street, Warwick, RI 02888. Checks are payable to Amos House. Oh, by the way, Walton, who’s been spending overnights at the house since 1987, also doubles as good ol’ Saint Nick — unsurprisingly given his white hair and beard.

Happy holidays, friends. Send info to big.daddy1@cox.net.