August 2000 - Dallas, Texas. The band Sandwich, featuring guitarist Jeff Quay, drummer Chad Jenkins, bassist/new recruit Rob Clark and a vocalist who will remain anonymous, was playing quirky, Weezer-esque rock, and beginning to gain notice. The stage was set for their emergence from anonymity, as the hype surrounding a showcase at the Atlantis Music Conference in Atlanta was building. The performance got off to a picture-perfect start, which then suddenly in the blink of an eye went down the proverbial drain. As the set hit its midway point, Quay turned to tune, Clark leaned to wipe sweat from his brow, Jenkins took a pull from a water bottle and the anonymous singer told a joke that simply ended the evening early.
A parade of vocalists auditioned, yet none seemed to fit. Then, one night Clark followed up on a tip and caught singer-songwriter Colin Hill's acoustic set at The Flying Saucer in Dallas. After two songs, and without asking Quay or Jenkins, he offered Hill the job. The singer asked for a demo-tape and time to consider the opportunity. A few weeks later, Hill came to a Sandwich rehearsal under the impression it was simply a meeting. He remembers, "As the introductions and pleasantries passed, they started playing, and I realized this was an audition. I hadn't even learned their music, since I was tied up with my own CD release. I panicked, and simply faked my way through three songs until they got to the tune "Seed," which I knew some of the lyrics to." According to Quay, "We knew Colin was right for the band that moment when he performed "Seed" for the first time. He had the perfect voice for it and the other songs. Simply, meeting Colin was destiny."
The band, then renamed Lee Harvey Osmond, went right into rehearsals, and had close to thirteen songs nailed in three weeks. As they took the stage for their first gig, Hill recalls, "It was the most frightening experience of my life, but I got through it real well. Now, three name changes and one hit song later, here we are with Wind-up."
Wait a second…hit song? Prior to Hill's arrival, he was performing covers five or six nights a week and drawing well. He recalls, "One night I played [Material Issue's] "Everything" and got a huge response; so much so that for the next three years I had to play it three or four times a night." Quay dug it and included the tune on a cassette for WCPR (Biloxi) Operations Director Kenny Vest, who promptly offered to manage the band and began spinning the tune. He advised them, "This is a hit song. You got to put this out and see what happens."
And so it was that Lee Harvey Osmond produced a CD titled Breathe, only to change names, under the advice of another programmer, from the "potentially offensive" Lee Harvey Osmond to Fuze. "'Everything' went through the roof," remembers Clark. "It just exploded. Sales were incredible. One store alone sold 600 CDs which, for an independent band without distribution, was pretty amazing." Already #1 most requested on WCPR, the ballad caught fire in Virginia, North Carolina, Indiana and Tennessee. Fuze toured the Southeast, playing radio shows where the single was throbbing. These gigs, in Greenville, Nashville and Roanoke found Fuze playing to crowds in the thousands.
Beyond "Everything," the Wind-up debut displays Stereo Fuse's songwriting acumen. The odyssey is told via the "shit-out-of-luck" lament-plea "Seed," the ravenous dream-chasing prologue "Super Hero" and detached epilogues "Trip to Mars" and "Live Like a God" (a cautionary tale against the quick-fix). These and other tracks, such as "Hey You" and "Allison," demonstrate an uncanny knack for the fishhook chorus and are punctuated by the classic rock triumvirate guitar - bass - drums! and Hill's towering, charismatic vocals.
But, as each member points out, the true essence of Stereo Fuse can only be grasped after experiencing the show. Each song, already a consummate arena anthem or ballad, is rendered with the band's all-or-nothing, struggle-tempered, leave-it-on-the-stage philosophy. "The live show tells the tale," Quay boasts. "We feel like Colin is truly a rock and roll singer who knows how to work it and perform," adds Clark.
So, looking back, destiny's softer hand wins out. Quay reflects, "This was just the right time. Had Sandwich gotten signed, we would have self-destructed in six months." Clark and Jenkins agree, grateful for the singer-less period. Of course, Hill is grateful as well.
