The way we were What’s next for indie rock? BY BOB GULLA

So I’ve been thinking. There are a lot of people out there who in one way or another enjoy saying that things ain’t like they used to be here in Providence. They say the venues don’t have the same charm or booking policies, the bands aren’t as good, the scene isn’t as enjoyable or as communal, live music fans aren’t the same or as plentiful. Sure, I agree with some of those points. I mean, you know there will always be that half-empty side of the community that feels the scene was truly better way back when.

Of course, you have to take that viewpoint with a grain of salt. Back "then," that person was in the thick of things, going out every night, practicing in a band several times a week, writing music, feeling good, hanging with friends. It was all about a good time. Today, that same person might have a serious job, a family, at the very least greater financial responsibility. He or she can’t possibly participate in the scene the way she used to. So obviously it’s not going to be as "good" as when she was in fuller circulation.

Anyway, I was going through some old records recently for a project I’m working on and I came across a few discs that brought me back about 10 years in Providence, to what I think was a real turning point in the city’s rock scene and to a time when yours truly was a "half-full" person. The first thing I came across was a Vernon Yard compilation from 1995, simply titled Vernon Yard Records May 1995. On it were 10 songs by the likes of Low, the Verve, Acetone, and These Animal Men. There amid the list of artists, mostly Britsh, was Providence’s own small factory.

For the same project, I was reading UK journalist Everett True’s book, Live Through This: American Rock Music in the ’90s, and I came across a sizable passage on our own beloved band Scarce and a reasonably good account of its principals Chick Graning and Joyce Raskin. "Dead sexy motherfuckers," True wrote, "Scarce sounded like all those parts of R.E.M. and Bowie no one is supposed to like. Scarce had such passion and self-belief it hurt."

Now, I remember when small factory and Scarce had good things going on in the indie rock scene. The Nirvana-led alt-rock revolution, then still young, had carried over into the indie scene and a few bands actually benefited. A&R men scoured the cities, large and small and everywhere in between, turning up bands. They actually even signed them to labels. At the time Vernon Yard had a distribution deal through Virgin, while Scarce signed with A&M. And they weren’t the only ones reaping rewards around here at the time. Indie rock was thriving. There were possibilities for everyone. Success bred success and things were looking up. Hard to believe, I know, especially considering how difficult it is for so many bands around here right now.

But then the indie rock scene crashed. Once the majors grabbed up all the bands, commercially viable or not, and ran them into the ground — at best demoralizing them, at worst destroying them — the indie scene had a hard time recovering. Alternative rock had been co-opted by the mainstream and now we were left with nothing: not indie rock because it had been stolen, not alt-rock because it now sucked. Nothing. Even indie labels like Sub Pop and Matador and Slash and a ton of others shook hands with the devil, signing deals with the majors that only provided them with life support, a false sense of security, and that for a very short time. So not only did the majors sign indie bands, they sucked the life out of the best indie labels. Bands broke up. Talented musicians ran scared back to their four-tracks, wishing they’d never taken that free meal from that guy in the weird ponytail. Nothing was as it seemed. Few of the promises had been kept. Now, in the wake of all those bad deals, there was nothing but devastation. Just listen to the radio.

You can debate all you like the question of who’s to blame. But there’s really only one question that makes a difference here and now: Will indie rock ever approach the glory of its heyday in the mid-to-late ’80s (when it was called "college rock")? Providence has never really recovered from the crash of the mid-’90s. Will we ever?

We’re now faced with what critic Robert Christgau calls "boutique capitalism," the concept of, in this case, a band trying to make it with its own revenue streams on its own terms. Not necessarily a bad thing, but nowhere near a solid bet. The undercurrent of the ’90s is littered with stories of success and failure, ranging from the mega-online success of Natalie Merchant and the like to Joe Blow and the Moes who can’t seem to sell more than a dozen discs and T-shirts besides the 20 they already foisted on relatives.

Still, it’s the way of the world. There was a time when indie labels were popping up everywhere, and each one seemed to have a few bands that would help pay the bills, so they could go out and sign even more bands. But the musical landscape has changed radically and it’s every band for itself, a symptom of today’s hyper-Darwinian, outta-my-way society. No more Seattle, no more Chapel Hill, no more Halifax, no more Olympia. Yeah, there might still be scenes in these places, but the indie label machinery isn’t there to foster them, and that really sucks.

That’s what I get for trolling through my records.

To pay tribute to the great indie rock still being produced out there, I assembled a list of my favorite independent releases of the past year.

Kim Fox: Return to Planet Earth (Oglio) Intelligent pop with elastic imagination.

South: With the Tides (Kinetic) Adventurous London trio with banjo, mandolin, and depth.

Gorky’s Zygotic Mynci: Sleep/Holiday (Sanctuary) Acoustic Welsh-folk that’s difficult to categorize but easy to enjoy.

Minibar: Fly Below the Radar (Foodchain) One of the best roots rock records of the year.

Fog: Ether Teeth (Ninja Tune) One man band rooted in hip-hop but with a wandering spirit.

Salteens: Let Go of Your Bad Days (Drive In) Irresistible Vancouver bubblegum.

Lamb of God: As the Palaces Burn (Prosthetic) Believable thrash band since inked with Epic.

The Long Winters: When I Pretend to Fall (Barsuk) Vibrant and meaty pop with a courageous heart.

Joss Stone: The Soul Sessions (S-Curve) Not over-hyped young blonde soul singer.

Darediablo: Feeding Frenzy (Southern) Enigmatic but compelling astro-instro-rock.

Pete Droge: Skywatching (United Musicians) Way better even than his work with the Thorns.

Beulah: Yoko (Velocette) Darkly brilliant work by one of the country’s best indie bands.

Damien Rice: O (Vector) Good stuff from a justifiably acclaimed Irish singer/writer.

The Shins: Chutes Too Narrow (Sub Pop) Miraculously met unfair expectations after a 2.5-year layoff.

Over the Rhine: Ohio (Back Porch) Oh, for Pete’s sake, why don’t more people know this gifted band?

WANDERING EYE. On Saturday (the 31st), Mary Ann Rossoni will be on stage at Stone Soup with her band, on a mission to take the idea of acoustic music to a higher place. Be there to witness it. Opening the show will be fellow RISA folkie Jan Luby. The gig starts at 8 p.m. at the Boys & Girls Club Arts Center (210 Main Street in Pawtucket). Tickets are $12. Another great show on Saturday goes down at the Century Lounge, featuring promising openers Without Andy, Fritter (Elizabeth Steen’s band), the StereoBirds (with Heather Rose) and Slik Willy (closing out the night). The music starts at 9 p.m. and the cover is $7. Hypersolid, Junkchief, Cade, G-Soul, and Wicked play a big show on Saturday over at Cats in Pawtucket. Get there early ’cuz it’s gonna be a scene. Doors at 8 p.m., the cover is $7, and the show is 21-plus. Immune gets a big opening slot on a national bill with Finger Eleven and Edgewater, both Wind-Up Records acts. It’s all at the Call on Wednesday (the 4th).

E-mail me with your music news at big.daddy1@cox.net.