Eastside teens discover why it's called "classic" rock
By Amy Roe
Seattle Times Eastside bureau
PREV 1 of 2 NEXT
Enlarge this photo
GREG GILBERT / THE SEATTLE TIMES
Members of The Solid Hypnotic are, from left, Michael DeYoung on drums, Josh Kipersztok, Jeff Fairbanks and Nick Feldman. Most of today's alternative rock is soulless, says Fairbanks, echoing a trend among teens and young adults.
Enlarge this photo
JIM BATES / THE SEATTLE TIMES
Kris Lieberg, left, Ray Stewart and Jack Machin, members of The Breakers, rehearse in Machin's basement in Redmond. (Not pictured is drummer Andy Emery.) The Breakers are expected to be contenders in the Classic Rock-a-Thon.
Related
* Audio slideshow | A new generation of classic rock
* Sound clips of The Breakers and The Solid Hypnotic
The first memory Andy Lawrence has is of sitting in his dad's truck, listening to Queen.
He was 3 years old and the lyrics — Scaramouche, Scaramouche, will you do the fandango? — were gobbledygook, but it was classic rock, baby, and Lawrence was ready to roll.
" 'Bohemian Rhapsody,' " he deadpans, "that's where it all started."
Lawrence has returned to the tunes of his youth; Led Zeppelin, Jimi Hendrix, The Who. Some of his favorite bands broke up before he was born; others are likely candidates for a reunion tour at the Emerald Queen Casino, a venue Lawrence, 17, is too young to enter.
Classic rock may be their parents' soundtrack, but teens like Lawrence are making it their own. They're tuning into classic-rock radio, wearing vintage tour shirts and putting their own spin on the genre.
"It's kind of become a huge fad now ... walking around with Pink Floyd T-shirts," said Ray Stewart, 19-year-old vocalist and bassist for the Redmond band The Breakers.
Music-industry analyst Bob Lefsetz said classic rock is growing in popularity because teens are turned off by newer music.
Classic rock
The deadline to apply for the Classic Rock-a-Thon is 5 p.m. Friday. Old Fire House Teen Center will present semifinals April 6 and finals April 20.
Application packets are available at the Old Fire House, 16510 N.E. 79th St., Redmond, WA 98052, or at www.theoldfirehouse.org.
"The kids who are discovering Zeppelin are not listening to Beyoncé," he said. "They listen to it as a badge of separateness" from the fashion-focused world of Top 40.
Some teens have tired of synth pop's artificial flavors. A few were tutored by Jack Black's 2003 film "School of Rock," and his alter ego in the duo Tenacious D. Many were turned on to the genre by musically inclined parents. Stewart's mom, a harpist, plays in a group called The Mother Pluckers.
No classic-rock band is too creaky or obscure to these teens, not even Lynyrd Skynyrd, said Chris Cullen, 39, director of the Old Fire House Teen Center in Redmond.
When he realized "kids are actually digging" the Southern-fried rockers, Cullen thought, "Whoa, this is weird."
But he happily helped Lawrence organize the Classic Rock-a-Thon, a battle of the bands at the Old Fire House Teen Center. Contestants will play classic-rock songs written from the 1950s to 1990s in a bid for bragging rights, prizes and a chance to open for a classic-rock band.
Bands will be judged in categories such as performance, originality, and one Lawrence made up: "general amazement."
The rock-a-thon is open to all ages, but at least one member of the band must be aged 14 to 21, the age range the teen center serves.
Lawrence hopes most contestants are closer to 14. He wants to attract musicians who put a new spin on an old tune, not professional cover bands who've got classic-rock hits down pat.
"The older you get," he said, "it seems like a lot of people actually sell out."
Young pros
Ray Stewart and Jack Machin are never selling out, and they're never going to give up.
Dude, never.
As members of The Breakers, they may be the rock-a-thon's band to beat. Founded in 2003 with a series of what Stewart called "personnel changes," The Breakers have played every all-ages venue in the Puget Sound area, including the Old Fire House Teen Center, "like, 50 times," he said.
They count classic-rock bands like Deep Purple as their biggest influence and believe that anything played on classic-rock station KZOK is better than today's music.
From fall 2005 to fall 2006 the average quarter-hour share — a combination of who is listening and how long they're listening — for people ages 12 to 17 increased by 100 percent at KZOK-FM (102.5), according to Arbitron.
Classic-rock musicians were innovators of their time, and they were more skilled, said Machin, 18.
Today's alternative-rock bands don't sound as "organic," said Jeff Fairbanks, bassist for The Solid Hypnotic, a three-month-old band. With the exception of Soundgarden, Fairbanks said, much of what's played on alternative-rock stations comes off as slick and soulless.
Because it's rebellious and unabashedly masculine, classic rock is a natural for young male musicians, Machin added.
"Rock music is really about male testosterone force," he said, adding that he and his bandmates try to keep that energy in check.
"We have to remind ourselves that we're not competing for the last zebra on the field."
The Breakers have emerged as an alpha band anyway. At the Old Fire House, they've influenced other musicians, like The Solid Hypnotic.
Judy DeYoung, whose son, Michael, is The Solid Hypnotic's drummer, is thrilled he picked up on his parents' love of classic rock, although one classic-rock band divides the family.
"I hate The Eagles," said DeYoung, 51. "I've already told the boys I really do not want any Eagles songs played in the house."
Passions collide
The rock-a-thon may be a contest, but The Solid Hypnotic guitarist/vocalist Josh Kipersztok, 17, said the biggest competition they face comes from college, not each other.
"It's kind of discouraging," said Kipersztok, who attends Kirkland's International Community School, "because college is becoming more and more relevant."
Machin and Stewart are students at Bellevue Community College, but Stewart may soon transfer to Western Washington University, putting a 90-mile drive between them.
The question of whether both bands will endure reverberates like feedback from a guitar.
"I'll build a light-rail system from there to your house," Stewart tells his bandmate.
"It doesn't matter, it doesn't matter," Machin replies, as if singing the chorus of a song. "If he goes [to Western] there will still be a band."
Or at the very least, a reunion tour.
'Cause teenagers have never 'discovered' Zeppelin before
