The members of the Flagstaff rock group Enormodome, singer/guitarist Jeff Lusby-Breault and drummer Mike Seitz, have actually been through the wars in the music business. They are veterans of bands that tried to build occupation fires nationally only to fizzle in the fickleness of major label land. Now that’s the last thing on the planet they want: all of that aggravation. Re-emerging as a duo along with an entirely different concept of just what it means to be successful, they recognize a decent sense of humor can easily go a long way, and a sense of independence is a terrific aid to sanity.
The bottom line is if it doesn’t feel fun, they don’t want anything to do along with it. And as a result, although they started playing with each other merely for enjoyment, they are now a local band finding victory on their own terms.
Enter, success, in the form of getting an invitation to tour, both as performers and audio engineers, starting in September, along with Roger Clyne and the Peacemakers.
Enormodome takes its name from a transitional moment in the mock-u-mentary film “Spinal Tap,” which hit the music business right in the funny bone. It comes from the point in the film once Spinal Tap, the band, fails to get hold of reservations confirmed at a hotel in Memphis. Finding their once shining star sinking fast, the band runs in to Duke Fame, a seeming mute whose star is on the rise. And Fame’s handler in the hotel lobby, in an awkward moment as he tries to slip away from Spinal Tap’s entourage, describes the sold-out, 20,000-seat venue they are concerning to play as the “Enormodome.”
When Seitz heard Lusby-Breault’s tip for the name of their fledgling act, the drummer, quite much the comic relief personality between them, merely made a loud “yeoowwwwww” sound.
“That name merely popped in to my head,” Lusby-Breault says. “It’s merely bigness developed by two people. It’s merely so loud.”
The two were clearly excited to get hold of the invite from Clyne and the Peacemakers.
“We have actually been talking along with your man (Clyne) for a year,” Lusby-Breault says. “They are fiercely independent. They do every little thing on their own. However Roger said he was constantly concerned concerning not being able to hear themselves sing on stage … So we suggested to them that we would certainly tour on their bus, and we would certainly additionally be the touring sound guys. We’ll open the reveal — we only have actually a small quantity of equipment — and then do all of the PA system job for them. We tossed that tip about along with them for the much better section of a year …”
Then Seitz, breaking in, “… we finally told them we are merely going to beat you up and take your your hard earned cash and do your show.” Finally, after some good-natured arm twisting, the arrangement was made: the guitar-and-drums act would certainly open the shows, break their own equipment down, and then handle the monitors to ensure Clyne and the Peacemakers got the sound system they were looking for.
“This was a actual opporunity,” Seitz says. “These guys have actually been on the road for 20 years. They know where all of the good rest stops are.”
Enormodome is an economical outfit. Claiming inspiration from bands such as Led Zeppelin and Audioslave and Jack White of the White Stripes, their recordings feature sonic blasts that make it hard to believe only two guys are placing out that much sound. They are, basically, a power duo, as opposed to a power trio. Their brand-new album, “Big Boy Machines,” can easily be classified somewhere between the hard rock and alternative landscapes, and though they say they did little to encourage crowd-pleasing accessibility, several of the tunes, at least partially as a result of Nashville-based producer J. Hill, are focused and rather radio ready. All of their experience and a sense of professionalism are packed in to their web site (www.enormodome.net), where the brand-new music from “Big Boy Machines” is streaming and downloadable for free.
The two met a decade ago at Northern Arizona University, and they would certainly regularly cross paths at the Arizona Pro Music store on Route 66. Seitz says he’d merely moved to town and Lusby-Breault was one of the initial people he’d recorded with. Seitz was attempting to be a singer/songwriter capable of doing vocals, guitar, keyboards and percussion. “It was terrible, However it was fun,” he says of those early recordings.
Meanwhile, Lusby-Breault was playing guitar for a band in 2004 that was eventually signed to Atlantic Records, Mercy Fall, while Seitz played for a Flagstaff band along with big label ambitions, Telescope. Mercy Fall shot for the big time by moving to the East Coast to tour and be closer to the scene, living in Rhode Island and recording in brand-new York City. “We would certainly go out on the road every four to 6 weeks and we were starving,” Lusby-Breault says. “We were consuming peanut butter and honey on a tortilla.” The band went on to tour along with Seether, and once Mercy Fall’s lead singer decided to pursue folk music instead, the remaining members formed a collection of brand-new bands. However Mercy Fall, to that point, was as close as it got to attaining fame.
Telescope was additionally a band on the rise, expanding its regional fan base, once they got an invitation to tape in Chicago and signed a management deal along with an agency in brand-new York. “We were two weeks away from having our dreams come true,” Seitz said of the experience along with Telescope. “However then we got the phone call: ‘Dudes, we have actually to shed you. Your live performance merely isn’t up to par.’ “
Both Seitz and Lusby-Breault defined their combined experience as an “an eight year adventure of ups and downs.” From that yo-yo journey, they learned a lot However say mostly, in the future, provided half a chance, they would certainly never try to play the get-a-big-label game again.
“You can easily job so hard,” Seitz says. “It’s unlike any industry in the world. It comes down to merely a few people and just what type of mood they are in at any particular moment. We slowly slid in to a slightly dormant state, and then we (Seitz and Lusby-Breault) started playing with each other again.”
In the past two years the duo has actually combined their efforts as sound engineers and musicians, working in a studio space in the basement of the Masonic Building in downtown Flagstaff. Lusby-Breault says it has actually been a rewarding, life-changing experience.
“Now it’s time to say, let’s do every little thing independently,” he says. “We started along with merely us jamming in the rehearsal space as a pressure reliever. This band, Enormodome, was never going to play outside of the studio. However then we were invited to play the Green Room and we scrounged with each other a set, and it was the most effective time in years that I’ve had playing music.”
They found a simplicity in only having “two people, two schedules, two opinions,” and every little thing fits in a compact car, Lusby-Breault says. “We don’t do anything unless it’s fun. That’s the rule. If we like a song, we don’t worry concerning whether the radio is going to like it. We did 10 songs exactly the means we wanted to do it … You write the most effective songs you can, However you don’t take each various other so seriously.”
Which is why Seitz loves the self-deprecating attitude of Enormodome so much: “It’s type of cool that it feels like we are in a higher school garage band.” And that Fame guy? just what a wanker.