"It just kind of stuck" - a simple statement from a straightforward man in a not-so-simple band.
It was the band's name - Deep Banana Blackout - that did the sticking and has remained, in all its absurdness, as a sort of permanent backdrop against which so many other changes have occurred.
On Saturday, Deep Banana Blackout will open this year's Fall Fest on the Residential Quad. The band Tufts students will see, however, is but a specter of its Deep Banana-past. Since forming in 1995, the band has existed in a number of incarnations with a wide array of musicians, an ever-expanding repertoire, and a constantly evolving sound. The band refuses to classify itself in a genre even though most would label it as funk, the group's admitted primary influence.
In an interview with the Daily, Fuzz (born James SanGiovanni), one of the eight-member band's lead guitarists and vocalists, tried to articulate his take on the band's sound. "We are trying to follow the path toward our own original style," he explained. "We work hard to create our own spin on the music, while paying tribute to all the great performers of funk and soul." He rattled them off as if reciting a grocery list: "Stevie Wonder, Aretha Franklin, James Brown, Otis Redding...."
These are musicians at the front of Fuzz's mind at all times. One can picture an aged jukebox deep within the man's cranium, forever rotating through one musical masterpiece after the next. "The one thing all our music has in common is that it is rhythmic and soulful. We've dug down to the roots of blues and gospel. And at the same time, we are hoping to create a new voice," he said.
It's hard to imagine that the band got together for the first time only six years ago. Its mission then: simply to jam. "We had gotten together to play music that we all liked." They were a cover band playing the varied music of all those aforementioned influences. It was no wonder, then, that when Deep Banana Blackout moved from cover artists to performers of original work, it knew exactly where to look for inspiration
It has been a number of years since the band decided to follow its own path. Pleased with their success so far, Fuzz and his bandmates are constantly looking ahead. "We want to create a lot more music. We want to create a sound where people hear it and say 'That's Deep Banana Blackout.'" And of course, more and more success would provide the band with enough support to continue making music as long as it desires: "We want to be able to do it as a full time job."
The success of the band's second album - Feel the Peel, released just this summer - might help make that possible. "Our audience has seemed to like it. We've gotten a lot more airplay than we ever have in the past." And more importantly, Fuzz adds, "we're showing forward movement."
The recent experience has helped put things in perspective. Which is better: Performing live or recording? Fuzz, for one, refuses to pick one. "They are both cool. They both have benefits." Studio work may present tangible evidence of hard work and allow the band to reach more listeners, but there's something special about a live performance.
That "something special" occurs for DBB nearly every night - the group has been playing upwards of 200 gigs a year. Fuzz speaks eagerly, trying desperately to share the emotion of the moment. He is confident but not aggressive - fully aware, it seems, that discussing his music is meaningless without experiencing it. "After a show, to say we really broke some new ground for Deep Bannana Blackout... it's a great feeling."
Over the past year, the band has had the privilege of sharing that feeling not only in the Northeast but across the nation and the globe. Deep Banana Blackout has performed from San Francisco to Chicago, New Orleans to Los Angeles, slowly building a listener base wherever it travels. The group recently returned from a Blue Note tour of Japan where, much to its surprise, the band was greeted by throngs of fans.
A large part of what makes being part of Deep Bannana Blackout so fun - touring, recording, jamming and all - is the collaboration that goes on among the eight band members. Fuzz, who writes the setlists, is usually up front with Hope Clayburn on saxophones, flute, and vocals, Rob Somerville on saxophones and vocals, and Brian Smith on trombone, tuba, and vocals. Supporting them are Benj LeFevre on bass, Cyrus Madan on organ, keyboards, and vocals, Johnny Durkin on percussion, and Eric Kalb on drums.
"I make sure that everybody gets their fair share. Everyone gets involved in the process." Fuzz put it simply: "It's a big band," the tone of his voice implying a world of challenges created by the sheer number of performers sharing the stage at once. But when it works, the reward is that much more fulfilling. "The thing about this group is that everyone is super creative and super critical. It is good to have every voice involved."
So how did such a creative group of friends and artists come to call themselves Deep Banana Blackout? "It doesn't have any special meaning," Fuzz warned before jumping into his explanation. When the band was still in its infancy, it went by some other name, one that Fuzz qualifies as being both "generic" and "not worth mentioning." Then suddenly, "it happened one night. We were on a gig." A former band member approached Fuzz exclaiming that she had a special dream, in which she experienced a moment of clarity and decided, "We had to call the band Deep Banana Blackout."
The name kept them laughing and existed as a sort of inside joke among the musicians for weeks. They would occasionally announce themselves to audiences, not by their original name, but as Deep Banana Blackout. "We had two names for a while," Fuzz said, but before they knew it, everyone had started to pick it up and the wacky name was the band's permanent title: "It just kind of stuck." Once stuck, the band embraced it and the name remains a marker to this day of the joy and creative silliness of its music. That same spirit and energy has guided Deep Banana Blackout from its inception through a process of constant growth and collaboration - funk-style.
