Lucy's Fur Coat set to rock the house again
By Chris Nixon
For the San Diego Union-Tribune
May 19, 2005
On Sept. 21, 1991, Nirvana released its seminal recording "Nevermind," sending shock waves throughout the music industry. The subsequent explosion of bands hailing from the Northwest sent music company executives scurrying for "the next Seattle."
Desperate to catch wind of young bands, the eyes of the music world for one brief moment turned to San Diego. Local groups (Rocket From the Crypt, fluf and Uncle Joe's Big Ol' Driver) garnered interest from major labels. Expectations ran high for local scenesters.
San Diego's Lucy's Fur Coat found itself swept up in the frenzy, its brand of gritty riffs and melodic choruses convinced record execs at Sony to pen a deal with the band. For a band that just wanted to play live and rock crowds, the attention was welcomed and a little odd at the same time.
"We were a bar band," says lead singer Charles O. Ware, speaking via phone from his home in San Diego. "We were trying to say: 'Sweat, rock 'n' roll, have some drinks, shake your (butt).' That's all we ever wanted to say."
The five guys in Lucy's Fur Coat saw the band as a fun diversion to their "real" careers, which lay in waiting as the group toured the United States and released a couple of albums.
"We all had different career paths laid out for us that we were able to fall back on," recalls Ware. "We had these careers that we didn't want to partake in yet. We were young. We could afford to act out our rock 'n' roll fantasy and not be losers at the end of the day.
"(Bassist) Rob (Brown) and (guitarist) Tony (Sanfilippo) were full computer heads. Rob, if I recall, was working at Solar Turbines running a CAD program. Tony had just gotten his computer science degree. (Guitarist) Mike (Santos) was studying for his CPA exam. I was in law school at the time."
So Lucy's Fur Coat put the serious jobs on hold to jam at bars and carouse rock-star style. In 1994, the band released "Jaundice" on Relativity Records and distributed by Sony.
The album's 12 tracks document the band's ability to strip down guitar riffs to simple, earnest rock. Ware howls and croons, the guitars rage and the songs rock but are catchy, too. The pressure of producing a hit record and the constant touring made what was once a fun ride into the kind of job they were trying to escape from in the first place.
"The touring with Lucy's became such a grind," says Ware. "The first two weeks is boy's club rock 'n' roll party. Three months later, the same scratch you have from climbing on the bus the first day of the tour hasn't healed. It doesn't matter how much money you have in your pocket: you're in Lubbock, Texas, on a Tuesday night and there's nothing good to eat. Three out of five of us were married, and it just becomes a grind."
After getting off the road, the band released one more album – 1998's "How to Survive an Aircrash" – before calling it quits for good. The band has reunited for a few shows since the late-'90s, but Ware and the rest of guys resumed the lives they put on hold to be in the band.
Ware eventually left his work as a lawyer, and now works as a lifeguard on San Diego's beautiful beaches. Brown worked for MP3 before his present gig with Napster. The rest of the band is pursuing their lives after Lucy's Fur Coat.
But this weekend they get back together for three shows three nights at the Casbah and Brick By Brick.
"I think we play (rock) with more sweat and energy and altruism maybe than some other bands," admits Ware. "We're all pleasantly surprised that people want to come and desire to be a part of it."
"I can't personally look at it like a reunion. We're friends. We don't having burning desires to be stars or to be who we once were. I just love rock 'n' roll and I know we can still bring it."
Chris Nixon is a San Diego music writer.
