• printer friendly
• mail this article
• iPod format
• digg

By Kristin Fiore

Daily Bruin Senior Staff

Musicians have many idiosyncrasies ­ biting the heads off of chickens, wearing shoe polish on their face during shows or making stage hands pick out all the brown M&Ms ­ and let's not even get into Perry Ferrell.

But few have the quirk of underestimating their own appeal. If anything, they outwear their welcome (Hootie? Courtney? Nirvana clone of the month?). Though L.A.-based The Sugarplastic are far down on the list of bands that ever need worry about such a thing, songwriter and frontman Ben Eshbach takes every precaution.

"We play short sets most of the time. I don't think we've ever gone over 30 minutes ­ 35 if I make stupid jokes. I'm afraid the audience is going to get bored. One of the reasons we don't like to headline is because it's, 'here comes the band and they're off in half an hour.'"

Hopefully this won't be the case when the band takes the stage at Spaceland in Silver Lake tonight.

They keep the set at half an hour by subtracting a song from the set whenever they add a new one. This makes things very convenient for those in the audience who are tired or really need to use the bathroom and don't want to miss a song, but why else keep things so short?

"I really think people would lose interest, not that they would, but because I would. I like Fritos more than I like (seeing bands) play live... I can't put myself on that pedestal,"

Eshbach says, as though playing for an hour would insinuate (in his mind) that his band is twice as listenable as those he sees live. Which is probably true, anyway, but we'll concede the point.

Insecurities aside, he does enjoy playing live and assures that the band is equally confident in the studio and onstage. Musically, this is obvious, as the band sounds so solid live that you begin looking around for little red lights flashing "quiet please-- recording." It's that darned audience thing that keeps getting in the way. But Eshbach is coping.

"I'm getting used to it. But I don't have any encores, pretend spur-of-the-moment songs." The Sugarplastic doesn't like the stage antics other bands often pull to attract the average club-goer, such as encores (which are now all lamely written into the set list), endless stage chatter, special effects or bombastic performances.

One can picture a teenage Eshbach cringing in the back of a Queen or a Poison show his (now former) friends dragged him to, lowering in his seat with every fireworks explosion or cry of, "Are you ready to ROCK?"

"I've never been mesmerized by rock performers," Eshbach says. "I just feel totally silly." The only problem with his live show theory is that he's not alone in his desire for a no-frills show. And though he may enjoy his bag of corn chips, most of us would rather be sweltering in one of those over-priced, cigarette-ridden joints on Sunset Strip.

This is a fact Eshbach is slowly learning. "On this tour, we've realized that longer sets are necessary. People were complaining," he says. Those of us who fork out eight bucks, walk three blocks to the club and pay eight bucks again for a watered-down drink really do want to see a show that lasts longer than a Brady Bunch episode.

Part of the band's hesitation is due to the fact that they "make a bad bar band," according to Eshbach. In other words, he feels their music requires more attention and thought than the average beer and pizza band, which it certainly does. And in order to be fully appreciated, it requires repeated listenings to unearth all of the layers of sound and meaning, like all good music.

Songs are like members of the opposite sex (or the same sex for some). If they reveal everything all at once, you lose interest in them and move on. Many of The Sugarplastic's songs, while immediately intriguing, are a slow burn. They play hard to get, but it's worth the wait.

They have many darker moments that employ irony and sarcasm, "a really important element in The Sugarplastic's music," Eshbach says. "If you listen to it in the background, it's light stuff. But there's darker stuff in it, like (there is in) nursery rhymes, witchcraft and superstition. There's a macabre element in it, but it's not obvious," he says. Those elements do catch you by surprise and belie the crisp, whimsical sound of the guitars and even the tone of the voice itself.

Despite his attitude toward live shows and the blacker tone of some of his music, Eshbach insists he is not cynical. Though after six years of playing around L.A. and releasing two albums, a healthy amount of cynicism would be understandable.

"I've been interviewed by folks who haven't even heard the music," he says. Such snags notwithstanding, The Sugarplastic have had a great time performing in L.A., waiting until this mini-tour to venture outside the area.

"From the very first show on, we had a ball. Everyone was doing grunge, heavy metal, imitating the Red Hot Chili Peppers," he says, remarking that The Sugarplastic offered something different ­ specifically, guitar where you could "hear the notes."

Their name dates back to their very first show, though they went through a thousand names prior to this one. It just so happened that they were The Sugarplastic that night, and so the name remained.

"It seems to fit the sound and philosophy of the band, or we have come to fit it," Eshbach says. The band's style has remained, as well. They wore suits that night, and though they wear shirts and shorts at times, they wear dark suits in places like New York and L.A.

When asked about this tour, Eshbach waxes contradictory (surprise). The band is looking forward to coming home-out of relief and homesickness, but they also had a wonderful time.

"It's one of the best vacations I've had," Eshbach says of the tour, which was, ironically, exhausting. He hasn't done much press, but touring the country for the first time must be taxing in itself. Consequently, the band will take some time off before recording the next album, which is Eshbach's favorite part of his job.

"My first love is definitely recording," he says.

They also may make a few videos, possibly for "Soft Jingo" or "Transworld Modal Operator," two of Eshbach's favorite songs off of the band's excellent DGC debut, "Bang, The Earth is Round." In some strange way, it all seems to fit together ­ the sound, the suits, the self-effacing comments and musical confidence. Eshbach is as inscrutable at first glance as his music, and equally as interesting.

The Sugarplastic, led by singer/ songwriter Ben Eshbach, plays tonight at Spaceland, located at 1717 Silver Lake Blvd. The club is 21 and over, so dust off your fake I.D.s. For more info, call Spaceland at (213) 413- 4442.