The Daddies in a decidedly ``grungy'' period (Seattle's Off-Ramp, 1993)
All this in spite of the fact they were as big as you could ever get
on a regional level. Even they never expected to hit it this big.
``Sure, I thought about giving up,'' Perry said. ``I was getting older,
and it was getting tough to pay everyone. People were quitting to get real
jobs or because they hated the road. It was getting tiring. It was a big
band and I was constantly cleaning up the messes. I just wanted to do what
I did best - which was write. I guess they wanted to be big rock stars until
they had to deal with what it takes, like playing every night and being
on the road.''
These days, being on the road is easier for Perry and the Daddies - give
or take a few hardships. ``We tour in a big bus, and we can sleep there,''
Perry said. ``So that part's easier. But we're working way harder. We're
playing with a lot of bands on this WARP tour and they have days off. We
never do. If we take a day off, then we have to do three gigs. But that's
the price you pay. Once things really started to blow up everything changed.
The responsibilities were greater and the offers a lot bigger.''
The album has created a three-pronged reputation for The Daddies. The band
everyone knew in the Northwest as a swing, ska and wacky rock band has become
almost entirely known on the airwaves as a swing band. Yet they've predominantly
toured with ska bands, which has caused them to acquire a reputation on
the road for being a ska outfit.
``It's kind of funny,'' Perry says. ``We didn't do ska song No. 1 until
the mid-1990's.''
There've been a few changes in approach since their modest beginnings in
America's Pacific Wonderland. This rig performed in typically casual attire
- to say the least. In fact, there was a serious element of grunge in the
image of this decidedly ungrunge band. But these days, the Cherry Poppin'
Daddies are synonymous with sharp suits and other accouterments of the swing
and big band eras.
``We've actually been doing that for two years,'' Perry said. ``We played
some shows with the Mighty, Mighty Bosstones, and the lead singer came over
to us and said: `You guys are a great band, but you look like the fucking
wreck of the Hesperus.' So, we decided the next time we played with them
we would get some suits and out-Bosstone them.''
Amusingly enough, on a regional level, The Daddies have had some amount
of influence in the Lounge Movement - or Cocktail Nation - the popularity
of which has, in turn, helped launched their career on the national level.
Back in the early `90s, when Grunge was king throughout the Northwest and
The Daddies were an extremely popular anomaly, Perry and the crew crooned
quite a few swing standards in their own twisted style, with Perry sometimes
going off the comedic deep end and doing uproarious impressions of Sammy
Davis Jr. Long before the cocktail movement hit the nation or Oregon, they
were fiddling with swing and swank in a manner not too unlike the movement
now.
But when the Cocktail Nation thing hit, Perry had a few reservations about
its sincerity.
``I guess it's cool that it's getting a lot of people to hear jazz who normally
wouldn't get to hear that kind of music,'' Perry told Salem's The Statesman
Journal back in 1996. ``But my bitch with it is that it's just so typical
of the middle-class: Everything's so precious. I mean, it's like a video
game or something. It's like: `Let's play dress-up and go out in suits and
party dresses and stuff.' ''
These days, life in the public eye has been good to Perry and the boys,
and, he says, no one has made an issue of the band's name. He says it's
been referanced a few times in some interviews with national publications,
but he adds most larger rags don't seem to want to waste time with the semantics
of the name's political correctness or possible lack thereof. It's refreshing,
he says, compared to the fuss some Oregon publications - including Eugene
Weekly - made about it a few years back. For a brief amount of time, The
Cherry Poppin' Daddies tried to go by The Daddies as much as they could,
but the name change never stuck.
Still, all the current success and accolades being poured over them came
as quite a surprise. Zoot Suit, largely a compilation of old swing songs
from previously released albums, was signed over to Mojo simply with the
intent of getting the word out and making touring easier.
Yes folks, favorite tunes like ``Mr. White Keys'' and the title track have
been around for a long time - some as long as the late `80s.
``We had very low expectations for the album,'' Perry said. ``We never thought
it would hit the big time. The problem we had was that we couldn't get into
certain markets when we toured. No one had heard us. But we got signed -
mostly, essentially - so that we could put the record in stores. The way
we structured the deal was, `Hey, we don't even want any money up front.
We're giving you this record to put out in stores.' ''
``We were in the studio recording the second album - back in January or
February of `98 - about when the single came out. We started getting a new
call everyday, saying so-and-so here picked it up or whatever. Finally,
they told us, `You gotta quit recording and get out on the road.' ''
Another surprise Perry and crew have encountered is the sheer artistic freedom
they've had to do whatever they wanted., without dictation from record industry
types. ``That's the cool thing,'' Perry says with delight. ``No one's told
us one thing we didn't want to do. They've given us options that were stupid,
but we didn't do them.''
The WARP Tour (which Perry jokingly called a ``military boot camp'') will
eventually take them around the world. Then, in the spring they plan to
write more material and finish the second album. ``The next one will be
about 80 percent swing,'' Perry said. ``It'll be a cross between Zoot Suit
and a Daddies' album.''
Touring, as well as health reasons, were originally the reasons longtime
bassist Schmidt had to drop out from the band two years ago. But if you've
seen the band on TV, there's Schmidt again, back at the bass duties, healthy
and smiling.
``The way we tour now, it's a lot easier on him,'' Perry said. ``He's really
sick today though, and we're kind of worried about him. But I didn't feel
like the parts were being played right before, and when things started to
explode and started changing, I asked him back. Plus, he's been my best
friend. I figured I'd never see him again for five years because of being
on the road, so it was partly because of our friendship. It's tough on him,
but he's been totally fine until a few days ago. He's allergic to about
half the foods in the world. But there's something going the WARP Tour.
I think he caught that.
Still, with the world seemingly at the band's feet, something about home
yanks at Perry's heartstings. ``I miss Oregon. I miss the rain. And Oregonians
are open to new things. That kind of free thinking helped form our band.
It allowed us to grow. But on the negative side, there was the response
to our name and the media attitudes toward us. Everything is so precious
and trendy.''