indie
band shocker!
Pictured (L-R): John, Paul, George and Duke
press release
TORONTO (NME)—In a terse statement released last Friday, acclaimed pop-rockers Boys In The Wood announced their split. The notice sent shock waves through the entertainment world, coming hot on the heels of their relentless, year-long assault on the pop charts. "You'd suspect the standard reasons, I'm sure," says Paul, the band's bassist and chief songwriter. "Yeah," keyboardist John chimes in. "Egos, drugs, wild women, musical differences, fear of flying ... or half of us ran off to play footsie with some guru." "And don't forget breaking up so no one knows your label dropped you," says George, the Boys' resident guitar genius. "Of course, that never happened to us. We were Clive's pet project."Clive? As in Clive Davis? "No, no," John says. "Clive Samwell-Sarducci, head of A&R at Autistry Records. They've been behind us from day one, and no one's been further behind than Clive. If you know what I mean."
"Yeah, Clive's a piece of work, all right," drummer Duke adds, "but then again, so are we."
Indeed. In a whirlwind fifteen-month span, their debut, Postcards From Midnight, has rocketed to universal acclaim. Paul perks up straight away upon hearing the u-word. "Yeah, that 'universal' thing's got a nice ring to it, eh? Why, I got this fan letter from a girl on Saturn just the other day. Said the scraping chairs and short-wave noises we stuck on 'Regrets' brought back memories of granny's music-hall 78s. Imagine—us, an interstellar nostalgia act. Not too shabby for four twerps from Toronto."
Ah, the humility: a trait seldom seen in the rarified echelons of rock 'n' roll royalty. But all kidding aside, before the tabloids get wind of it and concoct some outrageous spin, I have to ask: What's the real story?
"The real story," George admits, "lies in the name. See, we let Duke choose the moniker. 'We want something with a searching, naive and slightly mysterious quality,' we told him. So he came back a few weeks later with Boys In The Wood. We're all boys—well, at least we once were—and our instruments are made of wood. No wonder John's synths keep warping; we ought to look into that. Anyway, it sounded just splendid to us. Trouble is, our publicist would talk up the band to the punters and they conjured up visions of buff gay men cruising in urban parks. Now, we've nothing against that sort of thing, but it's not what we're about."
"Funny thing is," Paul says, "here we were, universally famous, at the height of our artistic powers ... and none of us had made the connection. At least, not until the hundredth person came up to us with the wink-wink, nudge-nudge, love the homoerotic band name. Of course, we kept scratching our heads and going, 'Huh?' I mean, we're musicians, not lexicographers. Anyway, looks like we successfully achieved the 'naive' part of the mission at least. Talk about clueless."
Is this truly it, then? The last gasp from Boys In The Wood? Splitsville a year after their chart-topping smash? "Emphatically not," says John. "Yes, Boys In The Wood is a chapter we're laying to rest, but who the hell wants to end a book at Chapter One?"
"It's probably been done," Duke says.
Paul raises his eyebrows. "Not bloody successfully it hasn't."
"What John's getting at in his usual enigmatic way," George says, "is that we'll be back under a new name. And this time, we promise to pick the right one."
"How about 'Clive's Children'?" offers Duke.
"Next," the others shout in unison, and all four burst out laughing. Whatever they choose to call themselves, the camaraderie between these boys should serve them—and their devoted following—for years to come. For now, the complete legacy of Boys In The Wood is preserved on their official site.