“What can be more uncool in the year 2000 than three white guys playing power pop?” is the question that guitarist “The Squirrel,” of Hoboken-based band True Love, uses to describe his band. “I really think we’re about as ‘out of sync’ as you can get; it is not the music of the ‘kids,'” admits The Squirrel, who uses the obscure nickname, because the name he goes by at his day job is well-known in the music publishing business.
Keith Hartel, on bass and vocals; Ray Kubian, on drums and vocals; and The Squirrel, on guitar and vocals, came together to form True Love in January of 1999 after they decided to drop their gigs with some pretty popular bands, including Mars Needs Women.
The trio took six months to get in their groove, and spent the next six months recording their self-titled debut album, which is now available at Tunes, located at 315 Washington St. in Hoboken. Recently, the band’s been playing a lot of local live acts throughout New Jersey, and they have developed a large following in New Brunswick. But this Sunday, Sept. 24, True Love will be opening the Hoboken Arts & Music Festival on the First Street stage at 11:50 a.m., and the Current caught up with The Squirrel before their home show.
Louise Thach: How did you come up with the name Squirrel?
The Squirrel: It was given to me by this band called Sit ‘N Spin, they’re like a local garage rock band who I’m actually going to be marrying the drummer of. They just started calling me Squirrel like four years ago, because of my tendency to be high-strung and fidgety, and it has stuck to the point where, literally, if I’m in a crowded room and someone calls out [my name], I won’t hear them, but if they say squirrel, I turn around immediately. It’s not like the most rock ‘n’ roll nickname in the world; it ain’t no ‘Edge,’ but it’s what I’m stuck with. It would have been too difficult to come up with something else and then have three identities to deal with; I would be completely out of my mind.
LT: So you’ve been Squirrel for how long?
TS: Since I was in Shake Appeal, the last band I was in. It’s gotten to the point where I cannot accommodate anymore squirrel stuffed animals, squirrel salt and pepper shakers and s*** in my house, because it’s what I get from everyone.
LT: Who was in Mars Needs Women?
TS: Ray, the drummer. We’re all refugees of other bands. That’s sort of how this band occurred, because we were all terribly unhappy with what were doing at the time, and so everybody simultaneously bailed on their bands. I was in a band with Keith, that shall remain nameless because they’re like the nicest dudes in the world, that had ‘management’ and a ‘lawyer’ and all that jazz, and two of the guys were in relatively well-known indie rock bands, and it was just like the most depressingly mediocre, loud rock music I have ever been involved with, and Keith and I had joined this thing with the most mercenary and disgusting motivations. We were like, ‘OK, these guys are hooked up, let’s go, let’s get a deal.’ And after eight months of that, we just could not bear the self-loathing anymore.
LT: So how did you guys get together for True Love?
TS: It was weird. This band was formed mentally before we ever played. I’ve been playing with Keith, and I knew we rocked really well together. Ray is just like the best drummer that I’ve ever really encountered, and he also sings really well. I would say that his facility, like singing, is just way beyond what Keith and I can do, even though we can hold our own, so he’s sort of the secret weapon guy. I don’t think a week goes by where he doesn’t [get an offer to be in a band], so Keith and I just decided that we’re getting Ray. And Ray was not thrilled with his position at that time either, and we hooked up in Hoboken at the Pigeon Club, and within two hours, we had four songs done and it sounded awesome. But the idea was dangerous, because we all fronted bands and that can really result in a totally bad scene. Having three guys who all write songs is just a recipe for disaster, but fortunately it’s worked out really well.
LT: But some of the best bands in the world were built that way, like the Beatles. TS: I hate making Beatles analogies, because that’s a very dangerous place to go. But they are the model, as Keith likes to say, for everything that is good about rock. They were the best band ever. And when you read the Paul McCartney book Many Years From Now, there’s an interview with him, and he’s like, ‘We weren’t like magicians or anything like that, it’s just when we got together, we decided that we were going to work a little harder and try to be a little bit better than everybody else.’ It’s sort of amazing to have a band with an actual work ethic. The amount of progress that can occur if nobody blows off band practice, nobody is totally out of their minds on drugs or totally possessed with some grandiosity that destroys everything is amazing. It’s been so smooth. The only time there’s ever stress with us is when people bring in new songs, because if you bring in a song that has two parts you really like and one part that you sort of stuck in there because you needed another part, you will get busted. We all always get busted.
LT: So is that how you came up with the name of the band, because you guys are so happy to working together?
TS: No, that would be terrible. Actually, it was a dare. Keith is a real rock ‘n’ roll idealist. He came up with that name, and I, initially, had great trepidation about the band name. Keith’s rationale was, ‘Look, if we call it True Love, it is like an undeniable name.’ Now, I just say it because I’m used to it, but like, A, You can yell it in a bar really fast. B, To me, the very fact of saying it is like almost a challenge to somebody, because it is very bombastic to call your band that. And C, We didn’t pick it for our love and respect for each other as musicians, but it is the ideal that drives almost everything. Like any movie you see and all forms of entertainment are always about [true love] and whether or not it exists. So I think it’s a name that’s easy to remember and is, as much as people want to pooh-pooh it away, it’s pretty much the crutch of everything that drives people crazy in our universe right now, like whether they can find it, whether they can get it, whether it exists.
LT: But it must be tough to be called True Love.
TS: It is and isn’t, you know what I mean? Like New Brunswick is a rough and tumble place, and I have seriously, f***ing, heavy-duty guys walking around in True Love t-shirts.
LT: Why don’t you have any band pictures in your album?
TS: I hate albums with band pictures; I think they can only hurt. If people like your record, they’ll find out what you look like. I just don’t believe that anyone can look cool enough to convince somebody to listen to their record and like it, but I think you can very easily look uncool enough to convince somebody not to like you.
LT: You guys have issues.
TS: No, we don’t have issues; I have issues. To do your own CD, it is so much easier to make it look good if you don’t start using photos, because nothing looks worse than poor quality photos where the printing’s not good. I didn’t want anything about this to be wack. And then, of course, we screwed up the song order on the CD, so that’s enough for me.
LT: How did you cope with that mistake?
TS: I threw something across the room, because it was totally my fault. And then I came up with the justification that people would probably figure it out. But if we get to a second pressing, it will be rectified. One makes so many mistakes everyday, I mean…now I’m getting upset about it again. I managed to block it out most of the time.
LT: How did you wind up on Cropduster?
TS: James Mastro, center of the universe. Hoboken is nine degrees of separation from James Mastro. We recorded at his studio, and he was on Cropduster and he told us about it and the advantages to it, and it seemed very attractive, especially compared to getting tied up to an indie label. Having been on one, I’m not a huge fan of the indie label. I sort of believe that they’re capable of all the idiocy of major labels, but don’t have the money. There are some great indie labels, but if you get stuck with the wrong one, and you can just get mired in f***-ups and there’s no money to do anything, so it’s sort of the worst of all worlds. It’s like, ‘Oh yeah, this couldn’t happen because that, and here’s enough tour support for like two weeks and we own your masters.’ This seemed like a way better alternative.
LT: And you would never want to be on a major label today, right?
TS: I mean, there are some good bands on major labels that benefit to some degree from being on major labels, and I would love to be one of those bands, sort of like the smart rock band, but we may be too dumb for that. I don’t know where we fall. We may be too dumb to be somebody’s pet smart rock band.
LT: So have you guys done any outdoor festival events yet?
TS: Yeah. In fact, we played an outdoor festival type atmosphere thing two weeks ago at the South Street Seaport, and we got in trouble because we cursed. Actually, I take that back, we didn’t curse. We had a band meeting before the show about cursing, because there were kids out there, like kids-kids. But there were two garbage cans filled with ice and beer, and you have to keep the beers away from the bands. After our third song, we were told not to curse, and we still don’t know who cursed. But we will not be cursing at the Hoboken Festival.