Copyright 1994 The Austin American-Statesman Austin American-Statesman December 29, 1994 THURSDAY FINAL SECTION: XL ENT. Pg. 16 JEFF NIGHTBYRD LENGTH: 1032 words HEADLINE: Superchunk's path to righteousness Chapel Hill's BYLINE: Marc Fort BODY: Road-weary and stricken with a touch of cabin fever, the North Carolina power-pop quartet Superchunk rolled into Austin on a summer afternoon to bring its punk-rock sonic arsenal to Liberty Lunch. I caught the band members during their soundcheck; they were exhausted from extended driving and were lifting their hundred-pound-plus equipment cases. I feared they wouldn't have the energy for an interview, but when I approached singer/guitarist Mac McCaughan, he said without a beat that hehad plenty of time to talk. "We're going to be on tour for 5 1/2 weeks," McCaughan said. "None of us have gotten sick yet. But we're already tiring of it. The first week or so it seems fresh, then after that it's sort of like . . . getting in the van every day, waking up with a hangover, driving for seven hours or whatever. It can be a drag. "The actual playing part is almost always fun. But it's all the stuff that goes with it, being in the van with the same people every day. It also pays the rent; it's our jobs, so we can't just blow off a tour," McCaughan continued as guitarist Jim Wilbur, drummer Jon Wurster and bassist Laura Ballance individually explored the club for the gig that night, getting a little personal space after their drive from Houston. McCaughan is the archetype of a reluctant indie-rock star. He avoids frontman poses in photographs, dresses like your next-door neighbor barbecueing in the back yard and speaks with the concern and clarity of an informed university teaching assistant. His North Carolina roots anchor his personality in Southern hospitality without antiquity. Through his universal thematics, McCaughan recalls Everyman from the 16th-century English morality play of that name. Deserted by former associates Kindred, Goods and Fellowship, only the character Good Deeds follows Everyman into the unknown. The band just finished a winter tour in support of its latest release, Foolish, on Merge Records (a label founded by McCaughan and Ballance during the band's inception to release their singles). Before Nirvana's Nevermind and before the days of Emo's, Superchunk had been gaining a following touring behind the singles released on Merge and its No Pocky for Kitty full-length debut released on Matador Records. The band rocked a handful of people at the old Cannibal Club during the No Pocky for Kitty tour. "We were sort of worried about it (Foolish) not being perceived as as big a record because it was on a smaller label," McCaughan said, explaining that Superchunk's contract with Matador Records had expired, and the band opted for its own label and sole control over everything. "We could see people saying, 'Oh, they're taking a step backwards; why are they doing that?' "But, it seems to be getting as much if not more press than On the Mouth," he said. "We had some friends of ours make a couple of videos, andthe video is being played. All this sort of music-biz stuff that you have to think about is happening, so that's a good sign. "We'd like to sell as many records as possible," McCaughan said frankly. "A lot of times people think that bands who choose to stay on indie labels don't want to get big or don't want to reach as many people as possible. The idea is to be able to get as big as possible and still be able to keep doing what you want to do. Or do it the way that you want without having to do anything that you don't want to do. That's the key." McCaughan stopped speaking to swat at his legs and hop around a bit. "I'm paranoid about fire ants in this town," he said. "I've had them on me before in Austin in someone's yard. I didn't know until it was too late." Our conversation steered back toward the band and how his lyrics are consistently submerged in the mix. "That's definitely on purpose," McCaughan said. "We see the vocals more like another instrument. If you're someone, like, I don't know, like Mark Eitzel (from American Music Club) or Bob Dylan or somebody who writes these great words, I can see wanting them to be on top. But lyrics are the last thing we put on the song. So, we would rather just have them mixed in; it's not like the band is just there as a backing band for the vocals." At Superchunk's Liberty Lunch show this summer, McCaughan's vocals rose above the distorted and clean-toned guitars, in contrast to the sound on the albums. Grounded by the tight and bouncy rhythm section of Ballance and Wurster, McCaughan's lyrics moved from recollections of unjaded adolescent themes on tunes from On the Mouth to unrequited adult love on the newer songs from Foolish. McCaughan smiled sheepishly when I asked about the meaning behind the lyrics on Driveway to Driveway, where he implores, "From stage to stage we flew/Twinkling every head/My hand on your heart had been replaced/And I thought it was you that I had chased/Driveway to Driveway, drunk." "I don't really like talking about the lyrics," McCaughan said. "They all start with one idea and end up being about five different things. Just because, if I was better at it, I could probably write a song about one specific incident or a specific thing and make the whole song work with that. But, as it is, it just tends to be scattered thoughts." Those scattered thoughts have been further explored on McCaughan's solo debut I Hope Your Heart Is Not Brittle (1993) under the moniker Portastatic, and the latest Superchunk single, featuring sensitive acoustic versions of Driveway to Driveway, Seed Toss and Sick To Move recorded on a 4-track at McCaughan's house. "At home I end up listening to a lot of jazz because I listen to so much rock otherwise," McCaughan said. "I like the pretty standard stuff, Miles Davis, Sonny Rollins. It's awesome to put on an Eric Dolphy CD." Marc Fort estimates that he listened to On the Mouth for 750 hours last year.