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photograph by John Carrico |
Robert’s last statement, then, pretty much goes without saying, though he says it, anyway:
“They’re really the nicest bunch of guys.”
The five (nice) guys collectively known as Reckless Kelly relocated to Austin from Bend, Oregon only about a year and a half ago, but already the popularity of this self-described “hick” band has surprised even them. Says fiddle player Cody Braun, “We expected to spend a lot more time. We kind of plotted out about three years to play as much as we could and work on our sound and work on the band – just get our shit together.”
What’s truly impressive is not that they got their shit together quickly enough to get an appreciable amount of notoriety ahead of schedule. You could set your watch by the regularity with which bands still in their relative infancy get tapped as ones to watch around here. No, what’s really impressive here is that given the band’s primary hangout, Lucy’s, that Reckless Kelly got noticed at all. See, Lucy’s is not a regular stop on the music critic clubbing route. It’s not even an irregular stop, because it’s not on the route at all. Even so, the band made it work for them.
“We used to play here at Lucy’s,” says Cody. “We used to play down in front of the windows and they’d open them up. We played here about every Monday and Friday for a long time, about six months. People walking by the windows would hear us and would come in. That’s probably where we got the most exposure.”
Playing out more and more, Reckless Kelly found plenty of momentum simply by word of mouth – that and some generous media coverage. The other thing the band credits with helping initiate some of the name recognition and interest was an on-air performance for KLBJ. It doesn’t hurt to have the city’s highest-rated morning show telling its listeners that you are going to be famous.
“We still have to work about five or six nights a week just to keep bills paid,” said Cody, noting the band is not famous enough for them to quit their day jobs. “We’re still not making a lot of money, but we don’t have to work at a Chevron station.”
“There’s no job I’ve had in the past where I’ve worked this hard, though,” notes drummer Jay Nazz. “Or a job I really cared about. We really care about this. A gas station? Who gives a shit?”
Don’t discount the lack of day jobs as a barometer of success, however; Kris McKay had a record out on MCA and she was still working shifts at Whole Foods. And this is where Steve Earle comes into the picture, and not because he works at Whole Foods – or because of the sonic similarities between him and Reckless Kelly, which are easily explained by singer Braun.
“It’s probably because the three of us, [bass player] Chris [Schelske] and Cody and I have been listening to him for 10-12 years – since we were kids. That’s a big influence on three-fifths of the band right there.”
Earle’s story unknowingly became slightly intertwined with our heroes last fall when Reckless Kelly’s debut, Millican, hit stores the same week as Earle’s latest, El Coraz�n. In a twist that Cody describes as “amazing,” Millican topped Waterloo’s weekly chart of Texas artists, outselling El Coraz�n in the process. The nice guys deflect the importance of besting their own mentor.
“He kicked our ass the next week,” laughs Cody.
The local excitement was also thwarted somewhat by the national press.
“No Depression gave us a terrible review,” says Braun. “They hate us. They said we were too perfect – too polished, and I think, too clich�.”
Even though the “authorities” charged with covering all things alt-country may have not approved (God forbid something sound good), it was hardly a crippling blow. Local radio picked up on Millican, and Reckless Kelly started getting airplay on both KLBJ and KGSR. And that, more than anything, may be what propels the band beyond Austin.
If a band on the level of Reckless Kelly (read: indie) is already getting spins at radio, they’re much more attractive to major labels, because they’ve proven they can break in where it matters most (or matters most to the people with the purse strings anyway): home. Even if the band isn’t particularly anxious, they are on the right trajectory.
“We definitely want to move up to that next level,” said Cody. “We’re not the type of band that says, `Fuck Nashville. Fuck this. Fuck that.’ We’re going to listen to what everybody has to say, but we’re not like, `We have to make it big right now.’ We’ve been together for two years. We’re all young. We’ve got no tie-downs. We’re not in any hurry to sign a deal just so we can get on MTV.”
Without being prodded or prompted, Cody edges in a few more words. “I’d like to say thanks to everybody in Austin for coming out and supporting us. We’ve made so many friends down here. And the other bands in town have been really cool too.”
Braun picks up the baton: “We got a small team, but they’ve been really good. We really want to thank them.”
A couple of nights after meeting the band, I bump into a friend at the Electric Lounge. The first words out of his mouth are, “Reckless Kelly hates you.” He was kidding. The pseudo-slur is for the benefit of a third person standing next to us – somebody connected with Reckless Kelly. After a brief introduction, a few pleasantries, and a couple of comments about the band, this guy also says the magic words.
“They’re really the nicest bunch of guys.”
Reckless Kelly’s SXSW showcase is Friday, March 20 @ Liberty Lunch, 9pm.
This article appears in March 6 • 1998 and March 6 • 1998 (Cover).