Not Tonic, Not Bubonic It's SEMISONIC

06/01/1998 3:20 PM, Yahoo! Music
Janiss Garza


The tunes on Semisonic's sophomore MCA LP Feeling Strangely Fine are appealingly simple guitar-driven pop. But pick the brain of drummer/keyboardist Jacob Slichter and the true soul of the band begins to emerge.

"I wonder if in the future, genetic engineers will sell people RAM," he muses. "Like sometimes you need new RAM just to perform a sorting function in your head and then spill tasks back in order."

The group's other two members--vocalist/ guitarist Dan Wilson and bassist John Munson--embrace Slichter's idea with enthusiasm. Wilson admits that the trio are "secret techno-weenies."

That's not a secret for anyone who has heard their album or seen their live show. Various samples and odd bleeps enhance--but never overpower--the band's songs. To fill out the sound in their live show, Slichter plays a keyboard with one hand and drums with his other three limbs. He's quite a sight--that is, if you can muscle your way through Semisonic's ever-growing audience to see him.

Although the Minneapolis-based band has enthralled listeners since the release of their debut Great Divide in April 1997, getting to that point was rough. "Part of the problem was that it took so long to get that record through the corporate quagmire and out to the public," says Wilson. Semisonic emerged from the ashes of Trip Shakespeare in 1992, when ex-members Wilson and Munson joined forces with Slichter. The band got a deal with Elektra, but in the middle of recording, the label underwent major changes. For eight months, Semisonic's future was on hold while the guys begged to be released from their contract. "Every minute of the process was incredibly grueling!" Wilson recalls. Finally, the group ended up on MCA--and before completing Great Divide, they released an EP, Pleasure, on the indie Cherry Disc label.

In spite of the stress of the label changeover, Semisonic utilized the time well by refining their sampling techniques. Relates Wilson, "I was even thinking, 'How can I write things that are so simple that they can work with an overlay of other sounds so it all won't sound like too much?'" Distilling the songs down to their essentials wound up making them catchier and more memorable. In addition, it kept Wilson--the band's main songwriter--from lapsing into self-indulgence. "I really don't like 'singer-songwriter' music," he reveals. "For every Robyn Hitchcock, there's 20 really irritating people."

As evidenced by the open-hearted wonder of Semisonic's hit single "Closing Time," Wilson makes his points candidly and without angst. "Even if the songs are deep in their own way," he says, "it doesn't sound like somebody's preciously handing you deep thoughts for an hour."

Semisonic may be techno-weenies, but they're techno-weenies in touch with their emotions.