Seattle News Tribune
                            July 16, 1994, Saturday

SECTION: SoundLife; Pg. H2

LENGTH: 671 words

HEADLINE: SUPERCHUNK REACHES TEENS WITHOUT APPEAL TO ANGST

BYLINE: Heather Stewart; For YAP

BODY:

Even though  Superchunk  is a band you can only catch on MTV once every
decade - and at 1 in the morning - they're not a bad band. Needless to 
say, they won't ever have that little trendy "Buzz Clip" sign stamped on 
one of their videos that makes bands ever-so-lovable. But that's OK, 
because right now Superchunk  may just be the best band in the world - at 
least to an armload of dedicated followers.

This extremely powerful quartet (Mac McCaughan, guitar, lead vocals; Laura
Ballance, bass, vocals; Jim Wilbur, guitar, vocals; and Jon Wurster, drums)
hails from the Chapel Hill, N.C., area. It formed around 1989 and 
released its first single, "What Do I." Before that, ex-sweethearts 
McCaughan and Ballance had been handling Merge, their very own indie label.

"Mac and I just decided to do it as something fun to do," said Ballance, who
with  Superchunk  performed recently at the OK Hotel in Seattle. "It 
seemed like it would be really easy. Nobody in the area was doing it, and 
all these bands were around. They would break up and they'd be gone, and 
there would be no record of it."

Somewhere between the release of "What Do I" and their self-titled debut 
LP, Superchunk  signed a three-album contract with Matador records. But 
for Superchunk's  latest release, "Foolish," the band decided to return home to
Merge.  "The contract had expired, and it seemed like a natural thing to do,"
said Ballance, adding that Matador was probably a "little bit" annoyed at the
switch.

"Foolish" brings  Superchunk  to a new chapter in its career - the 
songs go to new heights, but the changes aren't that drastic. McCaughan's 
howling vocals shine on the groundbreaking opener "Like a Fool," and the 
first single, "The First Part," closes with a ferocious mosaic of 
post-punk fervor. There are a few mellower tracks, but  Superchunk  stays 
consistent with the traditional hyper-pop and grinding guitar concept 
that makes their songs so unbearably catchy.

Members have also managed to keep busy outside of the band. Last year
McCaughan released a solo album entitled "I Hope Your Heart is Not Brittle"
under the name Portastatic - and on his old label, Merge. The single, an
enchanting ballad called "Naked Pilseners," was released on Matador, 
however.

"Yeah, I just wanted to put out a record on Matador so they wouldn't 
feel so bad about us leaving," McCaughan joked. But in a more serious 
tone he remarked, "It was just something I enjoy doing, recording by 
myself." To which Wilbur mockingly commented, "We enjoy it when he does 
that, too."

When the band is together, a live Superchunk performance is an 
incredible experience that makes their albums seem wimpy, even at a 
hundred decibels.

McCaughan plays as spastically and energetically as the music, 
pogo-dancing along with Ballance all over the stage. The neatest thing 
about this meager lead singer is the fact that you can't help but think 
he could just as easily be the innocent geeky teen next door 
air-guitaring to Black Sabbath - an image that makes him all the more 
lovable. Equally entertaining is the male portion of the audience as they 
coo for Ballance all night long. I hate to imagine what it's like for her 
at bar venues.

Superchunk's  obvious main attraction, however, is Wilbur, who sat in a
chair and played solemnly with his eyes closed all night long until the 
encore set at the OK Hotel.

Overall, Superchunk  plays a pivotal role in the music industry, 
especially to teens.  I don't think there is any other band that can 
express the spontaneous rampages of adolescence (the slumber party pillow 
fight, the junior high party with no parents, the last day of school) in 
every aspect to a point of such perfection as  Superchunk  can.

The best thing about this atmosphere is that it doesn't revolve around the
absurdly worn-out teen-angst motif (need I mention names?). Instead, most 
of the music is just music - a wall of noise worthy of pure wholesome fun.