
By Josh Rotter
Los Angeles space-rock outfit West Indian Girl captures – with their sunny sound and meditative lyrics -- the duality of their alternately glitzy and gritty city, sandwiched between serene beaches and skid row. It's an easy, breezy beautiful oasis for some - a boulevard of broken dreams for others. But West Indian Girl’s story begins in early-'90s Detroit, with the meeting of bassist Francis Ten and vocalist-guitarist Robert James. Moving westward, the two eventually signed with Astralwerks, adding vocalist and percussionist Mariqueen Maandig, drummer Mark Lewis, and later, keyboardists Nathan Van Hala and Amy White.
After the 2004 release of their self-titled debut and remix EP, West Indian Girl moved to Milan Records for their sophomore disc, 4th & Wall (2007), named for the unsavory downtown intersection that is home to their current recording studio. But it’s the entire LA landscape that intrigues this band on their latest album, evinced by both the memorable sand and surf-set pop track "Blue Wave," and the more dire, downtown rocker "To Die in LA." If beach living symbolizes success in the music capital, downtown’s homelessness – only a 30-minute drive away – hints at the greater potential for failure.
With a headlining gig as part of the LA Invasion tour at the Rickshaw Stop on Thursday, June 19, West Indian Girl co-founder Francis Ten took an hour and 10 to talk about the band’s upcoming performance, their latest album, and the immense difficulties of making it in today’s music climate.
SFBG: West Indian Girl played San Francisco a few months back. What can San Fran fans expect from this current gig?
Francis Ten: We're playing four songs off the next record that we're just recording now. We'll be hashing it out onstage, so it'll be a one-off, and not be the same the next time we play. We're adding "Rise from the Dead." It's one of my favorite songs to play, because I get to play guitar on it. It's darker, with a heavier side to it. We'll extend some songs, and bring back songs we haven't played in a while off the first album. Last time we did a Nick Cave cover, and I think this time we'll try Bob Dylan.
SFBG: Are you excited to return to San Francisco?
FT: I think we all love it. In some ways, a friend of ours who lives there summed it up as, "You know what you guys are? You're an SF band trapped in an LA body. You have more of the SF ethos, ‘cause of your message and the music, and how you deliver it."
In many ways I agree with that. If we weren't from LA, it seems like we should be from SF. It's the birthplace of psychedelic music. Our love for SF keeps growing. It's a great love affair that is yet to take place, the SF and West Indian Girl thing.
SFBG: You seem to have a love-hate relationship with LA, since you write and record music about both the sunnier and darker sides of LA life.
FT: Our first keyboard player and Mark, our drummer, are legitimate surfers. I'm Sicilian and Mariqueen is from the Philippines, so there's a hot blood thing. I've always gravitated to warm, beachy places. But we're not exclusively fun and sun. There's definitely a dark side. The block that we rehearse on is definitely not a safe block. There are people smoking crack openly, drugs are being sold, and fights break out in the middle of the road. Some of downtown, they're trying to fix it up. But unfortunately they're pushing all the homeless people into one area and some are more dangerous than others. So the beach is a nice place to have 20 minutes away to go to.
SFBG: I imagine that you're not recording at 4th and Wall by choice.
FT: If we had a ton of money, I'm sure we'd have a studio on top of the hill that overlooks all of LA. It's part economic, but our place downtown, it doubles as a rehearsal studio. So we can go down and play loud, as late as we want. We can't do that in other places. But we can't get away from that atmosphere. Downtown is so much different than anywhere else you can record. It's definitely the grittier part of LA. It feels like another world out there. Here, downtown, all those guys hear it. We're providing a nice soundtrack to urban nightlife. But if you drive for15 to 20 minutes, you're in Beverly Hills, and 20 minutes more, you're at the Pacific Ocean.
SFBG: Your song lyrics capture this physical journey, but also capture the journey of a still underground band attempting to make it.
FT: Life is one big journey, and these songs are little stories, little trips. LA has all these different pockets and we've traveled a lot. But you realize that everything's the same, even though we’re wearing different clothes and are different religions and skin colors. How our journey as a band has been involves a lot of ups and downs. I don't know if it’s more downs than ups, because of the business.
So it’s difficult, but the thing that drives us is hope. You can keep pounding it down, but you have to have positive hope, belief in yourself, and creativity in producing, so it’s actually worth a shit. The journey hasn't been...it's not a nice tour bus. Maybe one day that will happen. Oh yeah, we've been on bigger labels, but it's not what people might think. It's a tough road, and now more than ever, you’re expected to give your art away for free. But you just swallow that pill and keep going.
SFBG: No song on 4th & Wall seems to touch on a certain hopelessness like “To Die in L.A.”
FT: How many people come out here and don't make it? Like 99 percent? Guess what? They haven't made it, and what are they supposed to do? You have a homeless person pushing a shopping cart. That's what I mean.
Dying right here in LA, sleeping outside on a blanket on a piece of cardboard is gonna shorten your life span. It's not an easy place to live. It's pretty easy to curl up and die. It's a lot of rejection and crazy standards, and everyone has to deal with them. It's Hollywood, so it's all about beauty, which is just a lot of bullshit. I also think of that movie Less Than Zero with this song.
SFBG: These days it seems mandatory for new bands to get their music out in alternate ways, between ringtones, commercials, and TV shows. And West Indian Girl is no different. You’ve partnered with a mobile content company, and have gotten your music on The Unit, One Tree Hill, and Veronica Mars, among those Budweiser and Samsung commercials.
FT: That was just trying to be as creative as we can to get our music out there. Asia, for example, is a completely different beast. They get a lot of music from ringtones, so why shouldn't we give that a try? That was the philosophy behind it. We didn't think we'd get a billion tones downloaded, but we just wanted to experiment with another avenue.
Getting your music on television has become a holy grail. Anytime you have a commercial, like our Samsung commercial, and we sold a lot of records from being on TBS Fright Night, when they did a montage of scary movies and used 'What Are You Afraid Of?' It was great. We sold tons of records just from that. Today it's about touring and commercials.
SFBG: I was initially drawn to the band because of your name. I've read that West Indian Girl is a type of LSD, but I think it's also just a very beautiful name.
FT: You hit the nail on the head. What a great combination of three words. It has so many meanings. I was in a meeting with one of the heads of Virgin, and he kept saying, "West Indian Girl - what a great name." It has such a nice ring to it, so you like it just because. I've heard that so many times.
SFBG: But speaking of drugs, your music does have a definite psychedelic, acid quality.
FT: Between everyone in the band, we've tried every drug imaginable. None of us have drug problems, but I'd say there are more people in the band that are open. Nothing's off limits.
SFBG: Is drug use necessary to unlock creativity?
FT: No, I definitely don't think it is. I think drug use is a component to people's life processes. You can get into music as a drug and use that to escape, or escape while you're high. But I don't think it's a deliberate thing.
When listening to mixes, I'm not a big pot smoker, but when I do mixes, I make a point to listen to everything stoned and filter it that way. I try to imagine listening to this when high. Because if I were stoned, I might want this break to continue for a couple seconds longer, because I haven't had enough. A lot of times, in the mixing process, I wanna keep hearing that or key in on something else. It can lead you somewhere and open the doors of creativity a la fuckin' Jim Morrison. But I'm sure a lot of people get high to deal with five other people.
SFBG: You and vocalist-guitarist Robert James have been making beautiful music together for over a decade. But is there ever conflict offstage?
FT: Rob and I are both very passionate about the music, and we have a lot of respect for what each one brings to the table. I would say we complement each other because each brings a lot of different things. Rob does things to run the band, and a lot needs to be done, because it's a business.
And do we get into arguments? We get into arguments, and they're pretty heated. People leave the room. When you know someone long enough, you think you can not treat them like a human. We'll go from one to 10, and we'll be swearing at each other. But we know we're arguing because we feel strong about something. I'd rather argue with someone that cares, rather than be indifferent.
SFBG: But even with all that care, and nurturing of the band, do you ever doubt that West Indian Girl will someday hit it big?
FT: There is so much good music that doesn't get out. But the dreamer in me is still going. I'm not gonna stop. I try to stay as well-informed as I can about the industry. The industry is changing and keeps changing. And when you add in things like gas, to stay afloat as a band and keep doing what we're doing gets more difficult.
I'm definitely a grounded dreamer. It's gonna happen. It can happen overnight, but you can't put all your cards into it. A song can be played on the radio, and then, bam. But it takes hard work along with a radio hit. But we have the power to convert. Just give us an opportunity and come to a show.
It's different than the CDs. It's not really comparable, because the sound sits out there on its own. We're a pretty good band live, which is becoming a forgotten art form in many ways. I think we're one of the best bands that people haven't heard about.
WEST INDIAN GIRL
Thurs/19, 8 p.m., $10
Rickshaw Stop
155 Fell, SF
(415) 861-2011
digg •
del.icio.us •
sphere •
google
•

