by Aidin Vaziri
(originally appeared in Mean Street Magazine, July '93)

Paul Hampton tampers with a recently acquired vintage Hammond organ. The Skeletones' stout keyboardist-singer-songwriter-percussionist-and-baritone player remains completely engrossed by this new plaything, as his high octave dabblings propel through the walls of the band's full-time work and living quarters, a stately house on the outskirts of Moreno Valley they like to refer to as "Skeletones Manor."

As befits a band drawn together by years of camaraderie, the other band members presentlead singer, trumpet player Jonas Cabrera and bassist Mark Cummingsgo about their own business without even the slightest bit of acknowledgment of the '60s flavored farfissa riffs ripping through the rooms. And the business at hand is the Skeletones, once a band recognized for its carefree on-stage and offstage demeanor, now a striking example of autonomous success.

The Skeletones have undergone some radical changes over the last few months. Once struggling in an abyss of financial woes, there were serious doubts as to whether they'd be able to pull together the resources to put out even a simple CD. Then there was the matter of promoting it, touring, getting radio playall the small steps in breaking a band on a big scale. While most other local groups dallied complacently, satisfied with regional success and selling out the Barn for a pitcher of beer, the Skeletones always strived for more.

Their monetary and business savvy shortcomings were more than made up for with the musica vibrant mix of Ska, reggae and pop influences. And their penchant for putting on a mesmerizing live show earned them acclaim to no end. It was just such a reputation that helped them realize their current state of ascension.

Bordering on fairy tale territory, sometime last year the Skeletones were "discovered" by an independent investor at one of their many local gigs. Tipped off by an acquaintance, Chuck Bivona witnessed the Skeletones phenomena first hand. An established businessman, he instantly saw the untapped profit potential of the group and offered to finance their first proper CD release. Subsequently, the band's self-titled 15-song effort was released with not a bang, but a whisper. Although a full-blown success on the local scene, the album didn't turn out to be quite the breakthrough either parties had envisioned. So after a few uneasy weeks of scattered radio play and press clippings, Bivona became determined to make this project work.

His first step was to hire the band members to take on proper record company rolesHampton was named publicist and Cabrera, Cummins and trombone player Garth Schultz were to handle radio promotions, while the rest of the band members opted to hang on to their outside jobs. The next step was to set up a place where the business load could be handled day in and day out. Sacrificing his own Moreno Valley home, Bivona converted the place into Skeletones Manor, a haphazard combination of office, rehearsal and living space. Mike Preston continued to manage the band and Tom Evans, a commercial radio promoter, was brought in to pump up the volume of airplay on major stations across the country. Bivona, himself, handled distribution prospects. The collective was named MJC Productions and the results have been spectacular.

The living room of Skeletones manner is equally divided between a drum kit, the Hammond, microphone stands and three desks buried in paper work, a fax machine and a computer console. Hampton digs through a pile of trade magazines and pulls out a copy of the latest CMJ (College Music Journal), the industry source for charting college and some commercial radio airplay across the country. He flips to the back and points out several stations with the Skeletones prominently featured in their top-35 for the week. Then he shows me a station in Colorado. I glance over the names: Porno For Pyros, PJ Harvey, Stone Temple Pilotsbut no Skeletones. I ask him where it is. He points to the number one slot. In big, bold letters it reads: SKELETONES. Now in its second pressing of 10,000, the album is on the verge of breaking the big time with airplay on pivotal commercial stations KROQ 106.7 Los Angeles and 91X in San Diego.

"Ever since we met someone who had the balls enough to take a chance with us, everything's been going the way we wanted it," Cabrera says. And sure enough, the outside confidence in the band has markedly increased the esteem within as well. The band's newfound business sense not only counterpoints its past slacker image, but it signals a fresher outlook for the Skeletones who seem to take more care and focus in the band now.
"It's hard when you sign with someone that's not a major label, but is more of a business man who's never owned a record label and has no experience in the music industry," Cummings says. "You have to wonder, what are they really in it for? Do they just want to make money off our talent our are they actually interested? It was just kind of scary. We've been in situations before where we've been used. It's tough, but it's working out."
"I could say this," Hampton says, "if we were signed to a major label we wouldn't be living like we're living right now. We wouldn't have the house"
"We'd probably still all have part time jobs," Cabrera adds glumly. "But, on the other hand, we wouldn't have to be doing what we're doing right now," Cummings insists. "We'd have people to do our radio promotion and publicity for us."
"I enjoy doing this, though," Hampton contests. "It's cool, because it's my life. It makes me know what's going on out there."
"Yeah, I feel like I have that much more power," Cabrera agrees. "Before I got into the business aspect of it, I didn't know what a CMJ chart is. I didn't know anything."
"If you're sitting around and you don't know what's going on and you're signed to a major label, they could not be doing squat for you, or they might be doing a shitload, at least we know, because we know what's going on," Hampton says. "It's not like we have our heads in the clouds. We're getting it done and we're doing it. We are our own entity. There are no other bands, nobody else to support but our band. So of course we're going to know where the money's going, where the promotion is going. Everything is Skeletones 24/7."

Quelling rumors that all the business dabblings are cutting into the Skeletones creative itinerary, Cabrera says, "we play better now. Because after working all week and dealing with the business bullshit, once you hit the instruments you're ready to play."
"It just makes it stronger because we spend more time together," Hampton says.

One early criticism was that the Skeletones had sold their souls at the first glimpse of the all-day sucker. But now it is increasingly obvious that this is the best thing that could have happened to the local favorites.
"Our fans should be happy that we're not signed and we're keeping our creative freedom," Hampton says.
"It's not really like we're puppets, because now we have the money to do the things we've never been able to do," Cummings adds. "We're still controlling our destiny."
"We wanna be big, but realistically none of us expect to be Warner Bros. status by next year," Cabrera explains. "But at least we're learning. That's the most important thing to me. I think all this is just one big learning process for all of us. We're setting it up to where eventually we won't have to be doing this, where someone else will be able to do it for us. Then we can concentrate on the music 100 percent."
"We have the brains, we have the power, we have the capital," Hampton adds. "Who else do we need? Who else is there?"
"It all comes down to, you can't depend on anybody except yourself," Cabrera says, "even if you are on a major label. I mean, look at Arrested Development, they went out to every store and handed flyers and posters out for years. Now they're on a major label and touring with Lollapalooza. But that's what they had to do."

The Skeletones might find it harder to fit into America's cultural landscape than a southern hip hop band. With an overt emphasis on Ska, the band's music is without time and place, something they fully realize and hope to use to their advantage.

"Our music right now, as far as 1993 is going on, I see a lot of grunge, I see a lot of hippie stuff going on, and I don't see any kind of Skeletones genre anywhere," Cabrera says. "So it's bound to hit. It'll be really appealing to a lot of people really soon, as soon as people find out about it. We're just pretty much trying to go all the way with what we want, the way we want it."
"I think the reason we're so successful with our shows is because there are no hang ups," he continues. "As soon as we go on stage, we just go for it. We don't worry about shit. We just have a good time. People just get off. I just love the music. I've always loved the Ska music, and then when I joined the Skeletones that was my chance to become a member of an organization and luckily it turned into a great venture, because most bands don't last. There's just too many bands. I just think with all the shit they're laying out on the radio and stuff that they're releasing, we gotta get big. There's just no way. Something has to happen positive. I don't see anything going anywhere else but forward for us."

Bill Tanner (ska@billtanner.net)