February, 1994
Puyallup, WA
“Damn it!,” screams the curly, dirty blond long mullet-haired, vaguely Leif Garrett-looking guitarist in disgust as he throws the headphones off his head, sets his guitar down with a thud, pulls the garage door up and steps outside the makeshift recording studio for a much-needed smoke break. The bassist and drummer look on from their instruments, a shared look of woe crossing their faces while the singer goofs off with the engineer in the control room. That’s all for take number whocanrememberanymore of “Breakdown.”
“That’s a wrap for tonight,” crackles the engineer’s voice in their headphones. “We’ll get this one tomorrow for sure.”
And so ends yet another night for Pale, a nascent Tacoma-based grunge band that has been working on their debut 3-song demo tape for a couple nights at Chronic Studios. Located in a Shurguard Storage unit off Canyon Road in Puyallup, Chronic was not exactly a state of the art facility. Consisting of a mixing desk, a couple of outboard compressors and effects, and a DAT recorder. If you’re not familiar with a DAT, it’s essentially a tiny little 2-track high quality digital cassette tape. What this means is that the band had to record live, all 3 instruments and the vocalist had to have a perfect take all at the same time in order for a song to make the cut.
Not only was this my first experience recording in a studio, it was also my first experience with the dreaded “red light fever” where a musician’s anxiety level goes berserk once the engineer hits the “record” button. Only it wasn’t my red light fever, but that of our guitarist, Wayne Ross. So goes the tale of Pale…a very short-lived but relevant (to me anyway) band I was in that recorded our debut (and only) demo tape 30 years ago.
A Pale Vendeta
The roots of Pale go back to my previous thrash band, Vendeta and a falling-out a couple of us had with the band’s leader, Mike Hahn. That’s a whole other story, but suffice it to say we were young and pissed and so bassist Chris Heidal and I gave the band 2 weeks notice before a show at the Red Roof Pub in Tacoma on July 30, 1993. I was 16 at the time and Chris was 22. However unlikely we seemed age-wise as a rhythm section, we had a good rapport and similar musical tastes, so we planned to work together post-Vendeta.
After stepping off the stage at our final Vendeta show, we took a brief break while Chris took care of some personal stuff and I went on a summer vacation with my family before we regrouped in the Fall of 1993. We quickly decided that our influences would be the somewhat odd pairing of Megadeth and Pearl Jam and we made a mix tape featuring “Angry Again” and “Deep” by those bands respectively for prospective guitarists and singers to learn.
We placed an ad or two in the Rocket looking for guitarists and singers and we had two applicants actually show up.
Fun Fact: We spelled it with one “T” because there were so many other bands named “Vendetta” but we just didn’t want to let go of the cool name.
Freak Audition
The first guy who showed up was a real odd character. I remember he didn’t look the part, was much older than us and didn’t want to have anything to do with Megadeth or Pearl Jam. He was more of the Led Zeppelin and Lynyrd Skynrd type. Now there’s nothing wrong with those bands, but there is something wrong with flat out refusing to learn the songs on the tape. I think we played “Rock N’ Roll” by Led Zeppelin and maybe something else before Chris and I shared a previously agreed upon look and then he excused himself to take a phone call. Chris came back a couple minutes later and said his sister had been in a wreck and needed him to go and pick her up and deal with the insurance stuff. Chris was so convincing, I almost believed him before I remembered this was our agreed upon tactic if someone wasn’t cutting it.
Funny enough, I’m not sure the guy bought the story, but whatever. He grabbed his stuff and left and obviously, we never called him again.
Rhino Humpers Wayne
Our next applicant left us a voice mail telling us that if we called him back, we might hear on the answering machine that we’d reached the Rhino Humpers as he was roommates with them. This was pretty wild as the Rhino Humpers were one of the biggest bands in Tacoma at the time and were legendary at my school. Chris and I had gone to one of their shows a few months before and it was packed with kids going nuts. Seemed like Wayne might be a good guy to know!
So Wayne showed up for his audition in early October 1993 looking like a bookend of Chris – they both had the curly, dirty blond long mullet cut that was popular in the early 90s. Clearly, 28 year old Wayne looked the part. Then he picked up his guitar and man, the guy could play! Wow! He had a great sound, very in touch with the grunge sounds of the day but also informed by plenty of other genres including blues, thrash, classic rock, jazz and just about anything else. We had a quick chemistry and this time the previously agreed upon look that Chris and I exchanged resulted in us asking if he’d join up with us. We soon started practicing regularly, writing songs in a style that I would describe as progressive grunge metal.
We briefly worked with a second guitarist in late October that Wayne brought in named Chuck Simoes (ex-Poverty’s Child) and although our pairing was short-lived, his contributions to what became the song “Freak” were definitely significant. Chuck, thanks for the riffs!
Outrageous Todd
Because Wayne lived with local rock stars, he was very driven and right away we started talking about who would sing for us. One name that Wayne mentioned in particular stood out to Chris and I: Todd Doyle.
A little bit of context: in our previous band, Vendeta, we had a long-running issue finding a singer. We had auditioned a couple of different people and Mike had even tried a run at it, but nothing really stuck during the time we were in the band. However, our guitarist Mark Brown showed us a video one time of the band Outrage and their singer Todd Doyle was absolutely amazing. He had the long, curly black hair, was in shape and had an out of this world voice and stage presence. He was the holy grail of undiscovered metal singers in early 90s Tacoma. The one problem was that Todd had gone AWOL after Outrage split up and no one knew how to get a hold of him, so we never got to audition him for our band and ultimately Mike became the permanent singer after we left.
But now here’s Wayne telling us that not only does he know how to reach Todd, but that they are friends and he’s not in a band at the moment.
When Todd showed up to audition in November 1993, he was absolutely perfect. The guy looked and sounded like Chris Cornell and had a goofy, easy to work with personality. He liked our sound and immediately we drafted him into the band and set him to writing lyrics and melodies.
Battle of the Bands
This was an incredibly exciting time. We felt like we were the next undiscovered big thing with these songs and Todd‘s voice and stage presence. However, one thing we never truly agreed on was a band name. This complicated things when I booked us our one (and unfortunately, only) live show at the Franklin Pierce High School Battle of the Bands on December 17, 1993. So many potential band names came and went in between songs at rehearsals, but the best one we could come up with was Pale. None of us particularly loved the name, but we had to have a name for the Battle of the Bands, and so Pale we were.
I don’t remember much about the Battle of the Bands. There are a couple pictures here and I know that we played at least 3 of the songs that are on the demo tape. I think the photos were taken by my friend Randy Jackson, but I’m not 100% sure. However, the one thing I remember the most was that I was in the bathroom with bubble guts right before we went onstage. I was SO nervous to be playing for kids at my school.
Regardless, the kids there loved us and we had a really good set. It was a long-running rockstar fantasy of mine to show the kids at my school that I was more than just the guy who played “Wipeout” with the school band and this definitely fulfilled that one.
Oddly, there wasn’t really a winner to this Battle of the Bands. That’s possibly because only 2 bands actually entered – us and another band that was made up of all alumni who were playing a bunch of covers. They were great, don’t get me wrong, but their inclusion was a little off since none of them were current FP students. But then by those standards, I was actually the only person in either of the bands who was a current student at the school, so whatever.
Chronic Studios
Shortly after the Battle of the Bands, we decided it was time to record a demo so that we could work on getting more shows and some label attention. None of us had much money. I was only 16 and didn’t work an after school job because I spent most of my time in rehearsal with the band or doing homework. I’m not even sure how we actually paid for the recording, which is wild because it’s 30 years later and I never once thought about who paid for this thing! I guess since it was my first time in the studio, that wasn’t my concern.
One of us heard about this brand new studio called Chronic Studios. They were new, cheap and close to both Chris and I, so we decided to take a chance and booked some time there.
When we got to the studio in early February 1994, I was struck by how much it looked like a Shurguard Storage facility and not a recording studio. That’s because it was a Shurguard Storage facility! The studio was actually built in a storage unit and we had to wait until the manager went home at 6 pm before we could start making noise in there. The manager knew we were recording there but they didn’t “know” we were recording there in an official capacity, if you know what I mean. Plausible deniability and all of that in case someone called the cops about the longhairs making all that noise at the storage facility at night.
As mentioned before, the studio didn’t have much in the way of gear and thus we had to record live to DAT tape. Todd was in the control booth with the engineer (forgot his name, too – sorry!). It wasn’t exactly soundproofed in the control booth, which is probably one of the reasons why the engineer tried to convince me on day one to record using his electronic drum kit.
Absolutely, positively NOT! That was a battle that went on each night we were in the studio, even after I’d set up the drums and we’d started recording with my kit. I’m glad I stuck to my guns.
What kind of kit did I have? Oh, this is a good one. This was my first drum set, bought on the cheap in San Diego, California in 1991 for a mere $250. The brand: Kima. 5 pieces, made in Korea, all black wrap finish, and who knows what kind of wood or plys. Not the nicest of kits, but it’s what I had. Cymbals were a mix of Sabian and Zildjian. 14″ hi-hats, 2 crash (16″ and 18″), 20″ ride and an 18″ china (told ya we were metal!). I also used a Yamaha double bass drum pedal that I had mowed lawns for an entire summer to save up for.
Breakdown
The recording experience was both fun and grueling. Fun because we really had some good (in my opinion, anyway) progressive grunge metal songs going and I really enjoyed playing them with these fantastic musicians. I remember most of the songs were recorded rather quickly and we sounded great playing them live in the studio.
Grueling because there was one song that was a beast, and it just happened to be the one we all considered to be the hit: “Breakdown.”
Somewhat influenced by the Candlebox song “Change” (it was the 90s, OK?), the song starts atmospherically with a marching snare, clean guitar and accents around the kit building slowly as the vocals and bass slink in to a steady march. Then, the drum fill queue hits and we all kick in to the big rock verse. Todd‘s lyrics are personal, talking about previous bands he was in and how he’s “back, hungrier than before.” The chorus is almost a non-chorus, but it is powerful nonetheless. The parts of the song are so varied and nuanced and the whole thing is a wild ride.
But the sticking point for this track, the reason we kept having to do take after take was the guitar solo and Wayne‘s red light fever. Oh man, we went through SO MANY takes of this song because of the solo. Remember, we were recording all 4 of us live, so if Wayne played a solo he didn’t like or played a bum note, that was it: the whole take was garbage and we had to start over. No overdubs, no using part of the last take, no copy/paste, nothing. I honestly don’t know how many takes we did of this song because of that solo. Wayne would get SO PISSED and storm out of the room for a smoke or we’d jump back in and try it again…and again…and again. The guy was beating himself up hard over this solo, and I think it was because we all knew this was the hit song.
The irony is this: the take where he finally nailed it and played the solo perfectly, I missed the cymbal crash at the end of the last big build up. There was NO WAY I was going to make us all play the damn song again, though, and we just left the mistake in there.
I love how you can hear Todd yell “Yes!” into the microphone when Wayne gave us the thumbs up on that take at the end of the song.
Freak, Slip Away and My Game
The other songs were also super fun to play, again very nuanced with the parts and instrumentation and Todd‘s amazing voice over the top. Yeah, we were a little sloppy with tempos and execution, but we were young, inexperienced and recording 100% live.
“Freak” was definitely the thrash song, sounding the most like something we would have done in Vendeta, but also entirely new. The intro part was a nod to “Part of the Machine” by Fates Warning and was originally much more complicated when we had Chuck playing with us for the dual guitar sound. Chris did some tasty work in that intro, holding down some cool rhythms with a couple nice melodic runs while we built it up. The main riff rhythm was super catchy, although not the easiest thing to play clean in a freezing cold storage unit late at night.
I remember having to tell people, “He’s saying ‘Freak,’ not ‘Frank.'”
This was also my first drum solo (well, other than the aforementioned “Wipeout” with the school band) – just a short little flurry right before we bring the song back down to the intro part again for a bit.
“Slip Away” was the ballad, a very beautiful and powerful song. Vocally, this is the highlight of the demo. Todd‘s voice is so soulful and emotive, bringing to mind Chris Cornell and Andrew Wood but still with his own sound. I’m definitely showing my Lars Ulrich influences in the verse beat with the bouncy bass drum parts that he would play in “Nothing Else Matters,” while also doing my best (at the time) John Bonham impersonation. My favorite part is the bridge that kicks in unexpectedly around the 2:24 mark. And then the heavy part with the “It’s alright” is another favorite. Heavy, sad, and powerful at the same time. Always made me think of a heavy Mother Love Bone.
We showed a lot of dynamics on “Slip Away” and it was actually the song we opened with at our one and only show. Weird to open with a ballad, but it was the 90s – we were all about the slow, sad songs.
“My Game” was the bonus track. We hadn’t planned on recording this song yet as it was something we’d just started working on before going in the studio. However, after too many frustrating takes of “Breakdown,” we wanted to try something else and we’d already finished “Freak” and “Slip Away,” so we decided to give this one a try. This was just one take and the song was still very new, so it’s definitely rough. I love Todd‘s voice in the chorus and Wayne turned in a killer solo, proving that he had no problem when we were more relaxed about a song. Meanwhile, Chris‘ bass line was a huge part of this song, bouncing up and down the fret board to match my bass drum.
Chris always contributed unique, melodic and cool bass lines. The guy was heavily influenced by Geddy Lee and John Paul Jones, and you could definitely hear it. One of the best bassists I’ve worked with for sure, and really the first actual bassist I ever worked with.
Check out the Pale demo in its entirety for yourself below:
Breakdown? More Like Breakup!
Unfortunately, about 2 weeks after we finished recording this demo, Pale broke up. Like any break up, there were many reasons. I can never know for sure what was going on with the other guys, but it seemed like Chris was focusing on other things in his life and so we parted ways.
It sucked and I felt terrible about it, because we’d started the band and had worked together over a year in two different bands. Being 30 years older now, I’d have handled the situation way different than we did back then and just worked with the guy to see if we could meet somewhere in the middle until he got things worked out. But if we’d done that, maybe the next chapter of my musical career wouldn’t have happened, so it’s really one of those “everything happens for a reason” situations.
Meanwhile, Todd disappeared on us not long after we parted with Chris. Wayne eventually tracked him down and he had slipped into some bad habits and it was clear he wouldn’t be coming back to the band.
Wayne and I briefly worked with a killer funk bass player named Marcel. I really enjoyed working with him and learned a lot from him. He introduced me to Frank Zappa and all this cool jazz and funk music I’d never heard before, but we were a little too metal for him so that fizzled out.
The rest of the Pale story is told in the beginning of Rhino Humpers – Never Seen It All. Be sure to check out that article if you haven’t already. I suppose it’s not a spoiler that it ends with me joining the Rhino Humpers!
Thanks for reading!
Ramblings of a Retired Rockstar 