"People are really looking for women who play hard," she says. "There's
excitement about women who rock."Photography Michael Digioia
"Beauty is pain," the old saying goes. Bet you didn't know that beauty can also be botanical, aromatherapeutic, environmentally safe and cruelty free. With this in mind, myself and the four members of Veruca Salt venture into Terrain, an upscale beauty salon that carries all-natural products, for hair and scalp conditioning treatments.
Veruca Salt are understandably skeptical. This doesn't seem very rock and roll. However, once I explain that they will have their scalps massaged with essential oils and will be offered natural solutions for all their hair care quandaries, they roll over like cats having their bellies scratched.
But major record label interest from Epic and Capitol ensued even before the high-profile gigs and media buzz. The band opted to sign a recording contract with former Zoo Records A&R director Jim Powers' fledgling independent label, Minty Fresh. Veruca Salt, along with Red Red Meat and Seam look poised to be the next set of bands to break out nationally from Chicago.
Though a still developing outfit, Veruca Salt are not exiles in hypeville-- the excitement is warrented. Led by singer/songwriters and guitarists Nina Gordon, 26, and Louise Post, 27, and backed by bassist Steve Lack, 23, and Nina's brother Jim Shapiro, 28, on drums, the band serves up an aggressive dual guitar attack, with Nina and Louise often playing twin power chords. This creates a full-bodied guitar wash and distorted feedback sound, in the tradition of My Bloody Valentine or Sonic Youth. Up against it, Nina's childlike voice and Louise's earthy one and the pair's off-kilter, discordant harmonies come as a complete, but not inappropriate surprise.
The unusual contrast between their rough playing and beauteous singing places Veruca Salt somewhere between the thrashcore of L7 and Babes in Toyland and the accessible pop sounds of the Breeders or Belly. However, if you think Nina and Louise sound exactly like any of these bands, then you haven't been exposed to many female singers. The main thing these bands do share is that they are led by strong-minded, attractive women.
Which, of course, is why Veruca Salt are at Terrain on a Saturday afternoon having their hair purged of environmental poisons.
"Now the important thing is that each of you gets what he or she needs," says Lang, handing Steve a smock and herding him into the changing room.
"How do we know what we need?" Jim whispers. "Do they know what we need? They will determine what I need?"
Everyone else clusters around the counter to check out the intense product display. Jim holds a thick green bar of mealy soap to his nose. "Pew!" he says. "Aren't we related to someone who smells like this?" he asks Nina, passing it to her.
We troop next door where a besmocked Steve is settling into the hairdresser's chair. Lana, our lovely hair care therapist, goes to work on his scalp.
She explains the treatment--reconstructing damaged cuticles by rehydrating the hair and conditioning it with clay, moisturizing shampoo and steam heat.
"You should do this at home once a week," Lana tells Steve as she kneads the oil into his head. "You need to move that scalp." He looks as if he's about to faint.
Once Steve's head has been oiled, Lana leads him into a room with walls painted to make you feel as if you're underwater.
Nina sits down for a scalp massage. I ask her and Louise about how quickly Veruca Salt has become a name on the local rock scene. Leapfrogging the endless Elbo Room, Beat Kitchen, Lincoln Tap slog, Veruca Salt went into Brad Wood's Idful Music recording studio (home of Liz Phair) on New Year's Day to record their first album for Minty Fresh.
"I've always had total faith in what we're doing--the material, our talent, our voices," Nina says. "I believe in it. But I didn't expect it to happen this fast. Not 'it,' it's not like we're huge. But I did expect some attention." As Nina is saying this, her hair is growing bigger and bigger by the moment.
"People are really looking for women who play hard," she says. "There's
excitement about women who rock."
Do you think it's seen as a novelty?
"It is a novelty," Louise says. "A jazz pianist who overheard I was looking for a woman to write songs with told me, 'The whole girl band thing has been milked.' I said, 'Has the whole guy band thing been milked?'
"It hasn't been milked, it's evolving. Women are into making noise and being heard, especially in this industry. It's so satisfying to be making beautiful songs with a loud aesthetic."
A demo tape exists of four of the stronger songs from their live set. The tape enables you to make out the words. What do you write songs about?
"Pain," Louise says emphatically.
"When Louise and I first met, I was totally miserable and would write songs as a way to purge." Nina says. "I had a deep, emotional connection with the songs. The song was a by-product of a necessary process. Now it's more about a band and less about a personal experience. It used to be out of survival."
We go see check on Steve. He is reclining with his head hanging over the edge of a sink, his hair matted with clay. "I felt really hungover before and now I feel better," he says brightly.
Jim appears wearing a smock. "I'm ready for killing with my bare hands," he says, karate-chopping the air. Lana pushes him by the shoulders into the chair.
Jim's drumming provides the extra-hard, extra-heavy grooves that drive the band's sound. "His contributions have taken our songs to another level," Louise says. "His playing completely changes them." "It's nice not feeling responsible for the material," he says. "I'm just the guy who sits in the back."
"Playing acoustic guitar and singing softly came easily, but we wanted to play in a hard band," Nina says. "We liked Pixies and the Breeders Pod album and decided that was we wanted to do. Not mimic them, but play hard music. I wanted to feel the power of playing electric guitar."
A friend of Nina's mother read a review that described Veruca Salt's music as "often ferocious," and asked her why she had to play so loud. "It's an empowering feeling," Nina explains. "There's a pleasing noise factor. Playing really loud and hard feels natural, though it wasn't something I imagined myself doing."
"The only reason for me to write music is because it's a catharsis," Louise continues. "I would write a song when I hit a brick wall and couldn't do anything but that. I've written less on skill than on instinct. When I listened to Nina's songs, I felt like I could have written them. We both were stunned to have found each other because we were writing from the same place. I'm drawn to anything that feels like it comes from the heart."
"I feel like it's like Fuzzy Pumper Barber Shop Time," Jim says.
You look fabulous, I say.
"Thank you," Jim says. "Apparently, they used the herbal stuff on me because I have very curly hair."
When Steve is done percolating, Lana places his wet head under a bubble dryer, giving him that oh-so-Elroy Jetson look.
Are audiences too focused on a female singer's physical attractiveness on stage? I ask Louise. Does it matter?
"The whole package is important," she says, "but it shouldn't be about attractiveness by someone else's standards. It's about personal pride and the way one presents oneself. If you feel attractive, it makes you more confident. Confidence should be the selling point, not beauty. Of course the 'hot babes' element is part of it. Women are constantly valued for their looks."
But audiences drool over attractive male rock stars as well. Look at Eddie Vedder.
"People respond to pretty people. Whether they are seduced or repelled by it, they still respond. It's an issue whether it's acknowledged or not. I just hope that people like our music so much that they won't dwell on our looks."
"This is extra-tranquil," Jim sighs. When his time is up, Lana sits him under the Jupiter II lamp for an intensified dry heat session.
"My head is melting," he moans. "It's like your fries being kept warm."
He perks up. "Hey, can you get Lana to grade our hair before and after in terms of manageability, height, and shine?" he asks. "I'd be very curious."
When the two first met, both felt shy about playing in front of the other. But once they began singing: "Our mouths started watering," Nina says, "and we knew we had to get going immediately. But neither one of us could really jump in and say, 'Oh my god, you're amazing, I can't wait to do stuff with you.' We wanted to stay cool. So it was more like, 'Yeah, we should get together.'"
And then Louise said, "How about five days a week, nine to five?"
In the fall, they advertised in the Reader for a rhythm section, describing themselves as a dreamy grunge band with distorted guitars and ethereal vocals. They received a series of disheartening calls including a guy who said he liked playing with women because it gave him something to look at when he played the drums.
Nina and Louise decided to advertise for a female rhythm section and Steve Lack responded. "It sounded like the right thing for me," he says. "I was hoping they wouldn't notice I'm a guy."
"We thought it was cool that he didn't have any macho issue about responding to an ad calling for females," Nina says.
Then they knew they had to have a female drummer, but there aren't many out there. Nina's brother Jim ended up filling the spot. "We started playing, looked around and it suddenly became clear that we were a band," Nina says.
Louise: "I woke up the next morning feeling like I had just fallen in love."
"I must say Louise, I'm really liking your hair big," Jim says.
"You do? Should I go big?"
"You look a little like Bjork," Nina says.
I ask them if they wish they had more time to develop as a band before signing a recording contract.
"We spent enough time on our own, defining ourselves and working it out before playing in front of others," Nina says. "Louise and I have been together hoping for this for a while. We're new at it, but we know we're onto something. We're happy with the direction it's going in, but it's still a direction. We haven't reached Mecca."
I pull Lana aside and ask her what she thinks of Veruca Salt.
"If they sound anything like they look, they'll go far," she says.
"Jim your hair looks so good!" Nina tells her brother. "Look how handsome you look with your hair slicked back. I've never seen you so clean-cut."
"Well, I can say coming in with zero expectation, in fact negative 50 expectation, it came out very well."
"Do not even tell me that the oil massage did not feel amazing," Nina says.
Steve: "My hair's too soft, I want the hard back."
Jim: "You want the toxins back?"
I ask Lana to sum up Veruca Salt's hair care needs.
Because Nina and Louise's hair was a little dry at the ends, she recommends moisturizing shampoo and conditioner, and once-a-week clarifier.
"I love the way Jim's curls look, but instead of drying it naturally he needs to put something in to get more control," she says. "We talked about Steve growing his hair out. I would like to see it longer, maybe falling on his face. He needs to use conditioner also."
I think we've reached a band consensus: More conditioning.
"I think that's really telling," Jim says.
So what kind of grade do they get as a whole?
"A+" Lana says.
"Awww."
"They were a joy," Lana says.
Jim: "We'd better get out of here, she's got the Ramones at 5:30."
Return to the Bunny Hutch.