Tuscadero was a ‘90s mixed-gender indie rock quartet that hailed from the capitol city of the US of A, and they knocked out some terrific songs during their roughly six-year reign. In fact, two of their strongest tunes came via the band’s very first 7-inch, ‘94’s “Mt. Pleasant” b/w “Nancy Drew.” It’s a sonically varied yet thematically savvy effort that’s equally hefty on both sides of the vinyl, and anybody curious over the mightiness of this group’s motion should begin right here.
So much music spewed forth during the course of the ‘90s that even a very slight misstep in presentation was often all that was needed for this writer to take a powder on the prospect of checking out the offerings of some budding new act. That might seem harsh, but band names, song titles, and record design shouldn’t be taken lightly. If the moniker is poorly chosen or the sleeve delineates shoddiness or a lack of imagination, that’s very often an accurate indicator of what the sounds hold in store.
And these issues of presentation can often relate to the shallowness of mere trend jumping. For example, in the ‘90s a whole lot of bands hitched a ride like a pack of disheveled hobos onto the Grunge train, and those who made these maneuvers brutally apparent through a simple gander at their debut 7-inch as it sat in the bin of your local record shack were quite frankly almost always the stuff to avoid.
We aren’t exactly experiencing a shortage in sonic possibilities these days either, but the advancements in digital make it a whole lot easier to scope out a questionable release without getting burned in the bank account. When your fiancés sister’s boyfriend emphatically urges you to check out his favorite new band, streaming or grabbing a promo download is just the polite thing to do, even if they are named Big Baker and His Boffo Donuts.
But in 1994, actually plunking down hard-earned cash for a record by a group called No Recess, and with a back cover pic revealing a batch of unkempt longhairs that seemingly just finished chopping down a small forest worth of timber…well to be blunt, this scenario left very little room for feeling burned once the music proved underwhelming. Exactly what were you thinking?
I mention this in relation to Washington DC’s ‘90s indie champs Tuscadero due to an initial ambivalence over their name, which they took from a character on the ‘70s sitcom Happy Days. Now, that might seem like a very minor personal quirk upon which to base the avoidance of a band’s work, and that’s not exactly off the mark.
But to elaborate, by the mid-‘90s a rather huge wave of ‘70s retro had stricken the contempo scene, the vastness of it celebrating a gaudy heap of brazen wrongheadedness and to the point where I had gotten pretty fatigued by it all. This was all part of a bigger nostalgia cycle of course (‘70s-‘50s, ‘80s-‘60s, ‘90s-‘70s, ‘00s-‘80s, etc), but as I was just a young’un in those days, the impulse to champion the suspect detritus of another era while important, innovative and forward-focused stuff withered on the vine became increasingly odious over time.
What specifically turned me around over the possibility of checking out Tuscadero’s work was the discovery that it was being waxed-up by the Teen-Beat label. If that seems like craven scenester behavior, so be it, but during the period Mark Robinson’s imprint was a prolific and unique sign of quality. For starters, there was Robinson’s band Unrest, Teen-Beat’s flagship unit, then in the midst of their second beautiful phase as a trio with Bridget Cross and Phil Krauth.
Additionally, such very worthy names as Eggs, Grenadine (also featuring Robinson), Versus, Blast Off Country Style, Sexual Milkshake, Jonny Cohen, and Beltsville, MD legend Butch Willis deepened the roster. Most of the action derived from the VA/DC/MD area, but there were other well-considered inclusions, as well; Vomit Launch from Chico CA, Flying Saucer and DUSTdevils from New York City, and even ex-Factory Records chanteuse Cath Carroll from the UK.
Starting small in the mid-‘80s, with much of the early discography issued on Maxell cassettes accompanied with handmade covers that explored an eye-pleasing and distinctive design aesthetic, Teen-Beat never bailed on its largely regional focus, and the label was one of the very few to not only survive but prosper on both sides of the transition from the underground ‘80s to the Alt-indie free-for-all ‘90s. By 1994, Teen-Beat had issued over 100 releases, and while at that point I hadn’t heard ‘em all, quite a few had crossed my path, and none of them registered anywhere close to a disappointment.
So, with this level of success, what’s in a name, y’know? I picked up Tuscadero’s debut 7-inch “Mt. Pleasant” b/w “Nancy Drew,” and not only did it not disappoint, after nearly two decades it continues to stand up as one of the finest short-playing slabs of indie pop-rock from the entirety of the ‘90s. And where their handle was at first personally bothersome, after getting to know them the choice of moniker actually came to make a whole lot of sense.
Tuscadero consisted of vocalists-guitarists Melissa Farris and Margaret McCartney, bassist Phil Satlof, and drummer Jack Hornady. This sort of gender split had become increasingly (and welcomingly) prevalent in the ‘90s indie scene, but in this case a detectable social/political thrust was only fleetingly detectable.
That’s not to say that Tuscadero weren’t in some sense fellow travelers with the copious flow of contemporaneous Riot Grrl-derived clamor. It’s just that the cut of their collective jib was in rock terms considerably more classically inclined. Instead of utilizing (or possibly even combining) post-punk, hardcore or noise elements, this crew shaped up like an old-school (or perhaps after-school) garage band, but with a crucial twist.
Instead of dwelling upon the big garage root of the ‘60s, Tuscadero landed in that aforementioned ‘70s zone, combining rudimentary yet contagious pop hooks, punkish grit, and non-virtuosity and a thankfully non-heavy-handed engagement with pop-culture disposability. While at their best, Tuscadero connected in a distinct way, I’ve never been able to shake hearing a loose congruence in spirit to classic era Red Kross.
But on “Nancy Drew,” the band also jumped headfirst into an examination of childhood loves that just continues to go down like an absolute storm. Blending the sweet gust of gal-fronted late-’70 small-label power pop (think Greg Shaw’s Bomp) with the aura of K Records at its loveliest, the song is a truly killer example of inspired assemblage leading to enduring invention.
Like those power poppers (and the McDonald Brothers, for that matter), Tuscadero was capable of knocking out highly catchy tunes. But a big difference in their equation was how they never really brought instrumental or vocal flash into the overall attack. Instead, they marshaled a sort of heightened competence that at their best was very effective.
And they were at their best right from the get-go on “Nancy Drew.” In a nutshell, the tune details the story of some parents unthinkingly throwing out their adult daughter’s youthful mementos. Yes, the Nancy Drew books of the title, but also the Barbie and Ken dolls and even some model horses from Massachusetts. Horrors! Perhaps this sounds a little precious on paper, but in execution that potential vibe is undercut by anger which even results in a little explicit language.
Even so, “Nancy Drew” is still a dicey proposition, but in Tuscadero’s hands it’s rendered with the sure hand of musical vets. And a huge element in its success is how it acquires an edge that’s emotionally “real” without ever becoming mawkish, with that pissed-off attitude swelling up as the song progresses and combining with a musical approach that’s especially rocking.
And rocking is very much in abundance on the A-side “Mt. Pleasant.” Flaunting a punk edge that became less overt as Tuscadero’s discography grew, it unwinds as a stomping, ragged nugget examining the yin-yang of living life in a rough, blighted neighborhood. On one hand there’s trash in the street and sexual harassers to contend with; but on the other there’s no place like home.
“Mt. Pleasant” exudes an unabashed simplicity and aggressiveness that’s basically the closest they ever really came to sharing space with the whole Riot Grrl thing. For as they developed they increasingly embodied the example set by one Suzi Quatro and the Happy Days character she played. They helped infuse the ‘90s indie culture that fostered them with some needed un-seriousness and non-regressive sex appeal, and fans of Red Kross, The Runaways, Fastbacks, Shonen Knife, and The Go-Gos who are unfamiliar with Tuscadero’s body of work should definitely check them out.
Some folks swear by the groups ‘94 debut LP The Pink Album and ‘95’s 12-inch EP “Step into My Wiggle Room.” And I do dig both of those (the only mild disappointment in their whole run is ‘98’s final Elektra-issued LP My Way or the Highway), but I’ve never really valued them as an album band. For me, it’s always been about individual songs with Tuscadero. And with “Mt. Pleasant” and “Nancy Drew” they came up with two of their very greatest.
GRADED ON A CURVE:
A
