The Rocket (July 1996)
KRISTEN BARRY
by Michael Cox
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If you're a musician there's an excellent way to gauge just what level of obscurity you toil under. Pick up the club listings and check out the alien phonetics they're passing off as your name.
"Probably the worst was 'Krystan Berry,'" laments the artist currently known as Kristen Barry. "I used to joke about it 'If you know the correct spelling you get a free T-shirt.'"
Ten years of relative obscurity in the Northwest have finally ended for Barry. She's now poised for a nationwide misspelling bonanza with the release of her Virgin LP The Beginning. The Middle. The End. The new record is also a signpost of sorts to a new on-ramp in Barry's life, one that loops away from her native Northwest. For starters, she's recently relocated to the City of Angels, not as a career move but for love (her husband is in the motion picture biz.) Her home at the moment however is a suitcase. Her band was recently on the East Coast undergoing basic training in preparation for their first tour opening for Three Fish "This is just a kind of warm-up", she explains. "A lot of times the only audience is the bartender."
Barry's classical piano training first bore fruit at the age of 15, when she was tapped to play synth fills for Seattle's post-new romantic outfit The First Thought. It wasn't long before Barry's own muse called and she broke away. In an effort to better communicate the sounds in her head she taught herself guitar. The road to now is paved with discount asphalt, but Barry's love for and belief in her music was the chauffeur. "If they were going to say that my songs weren't good enough, well fuck them," she asserts. "I'm going to write 10,000 more songs."
Eventually Epic signed her to an "artist development contract," which in the vernacular of the trade means they think you might be marketable if only you'd let them choose your material and sound. "It was a nightmare," Barry states. "They want to hook you up with a songwriter, producer, whatever; trying to use their songs. That's not why I'm doing this. I'm not here to get a hit on the radio."
In a fortunate turn of events the songwriter search brought Barry's music to the attention of a Virgin Music representative. "It was like doors finally opening," Barry says. "Somebody saying 'I believe in you just go do it.'"
Some label-financed demos became a record deal; one in which she doesn't feel constrained. "Virgin's great because they give me creative control," she says. "They constantly challenge me just through their belief in what I do."
Now all she had to do now was find a band — twice, once for the record, then for the tour. "When I was looking for a bass player, I thought of all the bands in Seattle that I liked," Barry explains. "I kinda went out on a limb. The timing was perfect."
And that's how Chris Ballew came to play on The Beginning. The Middle. The End., just prior to his being sucked into the vortex of American pop stardom with his other little band, The Presidents Of The United States Of America. Ballew also shows some instrumental versatility here; he even took the time to put all four strings on his bass. Guitars were raked with aplomb by Barry ("Some of the solos are mine, don't let 'em fool you," she proclaims) and longtime guitar sidekick Rick DeChurch. The recording unit was rounded out by in-demand session man and Critters Buggin drummer Matt Chamberlain.
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-duction duo themselves responsible for sounds by Buffalo Tom and The Lemonheads. The power of the sounds in Barry's head meant some uncredited production input as well. "I couldn't keep my big mouth shut," she says. "I always hear everything which is a pain in the ass."
Now that the LP is finished, recording seems to be the furthest thing from Barry's mind "I'm concentrating on the songs and the band," she says. "I hate watching artists where the band is just a bunch of extras."
There's also the small matter of the rhythm section: Ballew is currently wrestling with the fame machine and Chamberlain has prior commitments. Auditions in L.A. (where even the Red Hot Chili Peppers couldn't find what they were looking for) were a cause for depression until the very last day when she got a call from drummer Brad Caselden and bassist David Doyle both formerly of Sacralicious.
While on the Three Fish tour Barry's home will be wherever she sets her guitar case. She's finally doing exactly what she's waited to do all these years, whether it brings fame and fortune (and the periodic visits from Kennedy that accompany them) or not. "The most important thing to me is that I finally got to do this," she states. "Whatever happens after this is completely out of my hands."
There may be one exception: If I were her, I'd be sure to check the album cover for typos.
