Prophets of Boom: The Sonics gear up for Wickerman

"Oh, yeah, we had so many worries. After forty years, you don't know where everybody's attitude is at. Have we forgotten more than we know? It's a difficult situation. We had a lot of 'ring rust,' as they say in boxing!" Gerry Roslie is at home in Tacoma, Washington, the city where his band The Sonics formed in the early sixties. He's talking about the recording of their recently released fourth album, This Is The Sonics. With bands now reforming on an almost hourly basis, The Sonics' return to recording puts it all into head-spinning perspective. Sleater-Kinney fans waited patiently for, huh, a decade. The Sonics' new album, the band's first since 1967's Introducing The Sonics, ends a near-half century break from recording.

Recruited by founder member Larry Parypa to play keys in the second iteration of the band in 1964, keyboard player Roslie quickly became their lead singer and The Sonics' scuzzed-up rhythm and blues quickly saw them establish a nationwide following despite the preferences of American radio for a cleaner, cleaner-living sound. Early breakout single The Witch – still a live set staple – led to them recording their 1965 debut album, Here Are The Sonics. A second album, Boom, appeared the following year. With label bosses keen to build on their success, they set about recording Introducing The Sonics in LA but the band's own developing tastes and the label's desire for a more polished sound led to them quickly drifting apart. A one-off live show in 1972 and an album of old material recorded by Roslie with a new line-up (1980's Sinderella) was all their loyal and patient fan base had to keep their hopes alive. That, it seemed, was that. 

But somehow, perhaps given impetus by the ubiquitous 2004 Land Rover ad that featured their version of Have Love, Will Travel, the offers just kept on coming. "We were all split up, you know, split up all over the place," explains Roslie. "It had been forty years. But we kept getting calls from this promoter in New York – a guy called John Weiss – he had this garage rock festival called Cavestomp and he kept asking us to play; year after year he'd ask us. So finally we thought we'd try and see whether we could, whether we were able to play together after all that time. So we gave it a go, we jammed it up, and it was still sounding good so we said we'd play. We played the Friday and the Sunday and that kicked everything off, the whole thing. We were worried, of course; people in New York, if they don't like you, they let you know!" 

"We were just these young punks!" – Gerry Roslie

The Sonics made their initial recordings in Seattle. Since their re-emergence, and the support of next-generation acts who’ve held them up as influences – the band has taken to the stage in recent years with the likes of Mudhoney and Eddie Vedder – the city is still revered as the birthplace of grunge. Roslie is flattered by the attention of the next generation ("They’re always so respectful and polite when they tell me how much our music meant. It's kinda hard to get your head around – we were just these young punks!") but paints a picture of an entirely different place in the early 60s: "Well it was different music, primarily, back then, of course – kinda rough and raw in those early days. There were bands all over the place, you know. But I think everything changed when The Beatles appeared. The moment they broke through, that led to even more bands getting going. So yeah, it was great, really busy and a whole lot going on." 

"We were really big fans of The Beatles," continues Roslie. "We didn't necessarily want to be them but we did admire the songs and the song-writing talent. We were developing our own style. Actually, more importantly, they were much better musicians than we were!" Like The Beatles, who quickly cast off their beat group beginnings once they became comfortable with the recording process, did The Sonics ever consider more left-field exploration? "Mmm. The main thing was that we all had the same attitude to the band and to the music. Everybody wanted to do the same driving music; we didn’t do many love songs. There were a lot of bands emerging who were clearly trying to second guess the whole thing, even trying to copy The Beatles; a lot of bands were trying to do that. But that really wasn't our thing. We were just too loud and whatever you wanna call it – just too reckless."

It was perhaps this recklessness, and their desire to explore their growing capabilities – albeit within a chosen framework – that led to the group's eventual falling apart around that ill-fated third album. Roslie is frank about the growing disconnection between band and label: "Well we went down to LA for a week or two to record and it started to become clear that the way we played, which is just loud and very direct, wasn't what the engineer in the studio wanted. So he said to our guitarist, 'Oh you don’t have to play like that.' And he was referring to all the feedback we liked to use and the dark tones we had. So he said that they would add what they wanted back in the booth, post-recording, you know? So that was very frustrating because he wasn't trying to get our sound; he was trying to get what he wanted. We went in there, these crazy kids from the Seattle area, and all of a sudden they were trying to mould us into something we weren't, and we didn’t like that at all." Was the band simply trying to capture its onstage sound? "Absolutely! I mean, you couldn’t see them doing that to Eric Clapton or someone! He'd play his way and tell them to record it." 

With the band now back as a fully functioning concern, it's been a strange experience for them to try to pick up the pieces. With the return of Roslie, Parypa and original saxophonist Rob Lind, the addition of new members Freddie Dennis on bass and Dusty Watson on drums has helped spark the new line-up. Even so, four decades is a long time. "And I'm not kidding when I say we'd been forty years apart," says Roslie. "We hadn’t called each other or anything. We all just went to back to our previous lives, if you will – normal occupations, you know?" Difficult to renew those old relationships? "Yeah. A little bit. But mostly, it's about the music. It's always the music. So when we got together, it was all about jamming – going back to the songs, trying on new ideas, just seeing what everybody's attitude is. Fortunately, the attitude hadn’t changed one bit. Everybody wanted to rock 'n' roll and they wanted to rock hard, which is what we do. Nobody wanted to sit down and play!" 

Their recent studio offering makes that much perfectly clear. Roslie may have just inched his way into his seventies but This Is The Sonics breathes fire in a way that leads you to suspect they've simply pulled it from the vaults. A cover of The Kinks' The Hard Way is pure punk: "We were fans of The Kinks since they started out. We had a similar vibe in those early days." 

With attention turning to their most extensive run of touring since the sixties, Roslie is looking forward to getting back on the tour bus and has high hopes for their forthcoming UK dates. "Well, right after that New York thing, where we first came out of the cave so to speak, we were asked to go to England," he says. "So we did that, and because that went so well, we proceeded to do some more. And you know the amazing thing? So many young people are coming out to the shows. Plus, those early shows, after we came back, we had no idea what was going to happen. 'Are they going to be throwing tomatoes at us or what?' But it was a real shock, a really pleasant shock. It was déjà vu! It was like forty years ago all over again. There were teens, early twenties – a real mix alongside the older fans. So, yeah, we love the UK. You guys over there always got it." The whole experience of being in a band again, does it help keep you young? "Does it keep me young? Hell, yeah! Yeah, it does. Different scenery, different people, different cultures. It makes you feel like everything is new."