A Covers Letter

Don’t accuse me of foisting silly predictions and proposals on the Orange County reading public every January. I checked, and I’ve done it only four chances out of nine. Before I make it a nice, even five out of 10, let me remind you of some of my previous causes:

I’m the guy who once suggested that rich rockers should buy radio stations and run them as public trusts, motivated not by profit but by musical excellence, diversity and adventurousness. Turn your radio on to see how persuasive I was.

Undaunted, I came back to propose that, in a new form of arts patronage, rich rockers should systematically subsidize the careers of their artistically worthy but commercially handicapped peers. I think they all invested in mutual funds.

I once urged fans to stop buying souvenir T-shirts and other rock-star bric-a-brac because it’s an unseemly form of idolatry. Spend the money on lesser known albums, I said, or better yet, on learning to play an instrument. What world was I living in?

After Bogart’s closed in 1993, I predicted that another great club would soon replace it, serving as a night-in, night-out hangout for the local music scene and as a showcase for strong, cutting-edge touring talent. Maybe in some future millennium.

Then, in the dawn of 1994, I predicted--actually, I couched it as a lovely fantasy--that “the Orange Curtain” would finally fall, vaulting the local alt-rock and punk-rock scenes to international fame. What’s more, I forecast that the album demolishing the wall would feature a song called “Nitro.” Problem was, I had been trumpeting the “Nitro” from Dick Dale’s “Tribal Thunder,” not the “Nitro” from the Offspring’s 1994 breakthrough “Smash.”

The next January, I wrote: “If ska-rock does take off, two promising local practitioners--Anaheim’s No Doubt and Long Beach’s Sublime--are in a position to ride the wave.” Me, wishy-washy? What I meant to say was, “Ska-rock will take off.”

Chastened by this track record, I offer just one proposal for 1998. It’s very specific and extremely presumptuous. (Presumptuousness is a prerequisite for admission into rock critics school.)

I propose that No Doubt make its next album an all-covers release, focusing on delicious hidden fruits off the Orange County tree. Besides being a Valentine to the local rock scene, it would let the band stay in the marketplace and still take time for its true follow-up to “Tragic Kingdom.” With most critics--present company excluded--probably hoping that No Doubt pulls a Frampton and proves that 7 million in U.S. sales was a lucky fluke, the band must be under pressure these days.

A covers album could underscore No Doubt’s strengths, broaden its reach and lead some its younger fans toward musical maturity. The band could record the CD quickly, using its ska-inflected spin where appropriate, and play a handful of Southern California shows to celebrate the release. Then it could get right back to the business of writing and recording another album of originals.

Since my presumptuousness--uh, helpfulness--knows no limits, I’ll even suggest some songs I think No Doubt could make shine:

* “Break Your Heart” by One Hit Wonder. A fun, catchy, suitably rude punk-pop song, with the emphasis on sing-along pop. A natural, because OHW’s drummer, Christopher Webb, was the original drummer of No Doubt, and No Doubt’s Tony Kanal did some fill-in work for OHW on bass early in ’95.

* “Right on Baby, Baby” by Dramarama. A moving, emotionally complex ballad about reaching out to a drug-burdened friend, though he may be beyond help. It could come with a dedication to No Doubt’s dead comrade, Bradley Nowell of Sublime.

* “Johnny’s Got a Problem” by D.I. The greatest punk-rock anti-heroin tirade I know; it hurtles and slashes, mixing respect for who the junkie once was with contempt for what he has become. Dedicate this one to Nowell as well.

* “Heaven Sighed” by Joyride. A warm, poignant song full of empathy for a good-hearted schoolgirl who suffers because she isn’t beautiful and cool. Not a bad statement for Gwen Stefani to make.

* “Apollo” by Kerry Getz. A pretty, dreamy, yearning ballad to placate fans who absolutely must have another “Don’t Speak.”

* “Here” by Liquor Giants. This winsome, jangling love song sounds like a great lost hit by the Monkees. It would be a nice successor to the “Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da” cover No Doubt played on tour.

* “Supervision” by the Joykiller. One of the best pop songs of 1997; its close-in look at trust unraveling in a relationship dovetails with No Doubt’s main “Tragic Kingdom” story line and takes it deeper.

* “Unexpected” by Eggplant. One of the best songs around on hope doggedly winning out over pessimism. Jon Melkerson’s closing guitar solo on the original, among the instrumental high points of O.C. rock, would give No Doubt’s Tom Dumont a target.

* “American Society” by Eddie and the Subtitles. This rowdily irate, immensely catchy, tremendously fun O.C. garage-punk oldie would be ideal for a No Doubt plunge into social criticism. It’s a ticked-off anthem against all the cultural junk American society spews. After Chumbawamba, the kids should be ready for it.

* “Not in Vain” by Ann De Jarnett. Before Gwen, there was Ann: beautiful, charismatic and the best candidate, back around 1990, to come out of a male-dominated scene and make a woman’s mark. De Jarnett sanely chose a career in psychology and social work over rock ‘n’ roll but left this stirring romantic affirmation behind.

* “America Walking By” by Richard Stekol. For a stark, acoustic moment, nothing from O.C. can beat this crushing, grief-filled ballad depicting a community devastated by a young person’s death. A truly great song that wrings tears honestly. Pull this one off, and nobody could call No Doubt “lightweight” again.

* “Party at Ground Zero” by Fishbone. An upbeat song on a downbeat theme: nuclear destruction. It would be a nod to the L.A. band that helped ignite the ska scene in Southern California and stand for the license to move beyond ska--the very philosophy that propelled No Doubt.

Oh, One More Thing:

To owners of rock ‘n’ roll bars who might be worried about the new nightclub smoking ban: Consider what might happen if smokers could congregate on a patio or a separate closed-off room. Nonsmokers, assured of coming home clear-eyed and without stinking like an ashtray, might patronize your establishments more regularly. Just try it and see if your cash register likes it.

Otherwise, be prepared to hire bigger bouncers to quell the excitement when nonsmokers assert their new rights. Oh yes, and lawyers to fight the fines and lawsuits. I think of the ban as the Rock Critics’ Life-Expectancy Extension Act. And for musicians who crave fans and recognition, it may well be the Rock Bands’ Audience-Expansion Act. Beyond that, it’s simply ethical and practical to keep things healthy and hospitable for all interested listeners.