GRAYAREA

Once again, I find myself on a bourbon-soaked trip to Chicago to visit the infamous members of Grayarea; Nosmo, McRae, and Ruin, each of which is an anomaly unto himself. How the trio worked their way into my life is a bit hazy at this point, but it appears they’re here to stay, and at this rate,I’m beginning to develop a concern for the well being of my ears and my liver.

If I remember correctly, Nosmo came first—at the time, a Chicago transplant who claimed to be a classmate of mine at Seattle University. I seem to vaguely recall him tossing his guitar aside in favor of diving through the bins of vinyl at Platinum Records. Shortly thereafter Nosmo started working the crowds over at clubs and rave parties up and down the west coast alongside Seattle comrades Donald Glaude and Troy Roberts.

Enter McRae, Nosmo’s partner in crime (and consumption, for that matter) from Chicago. McRae came out for a visit on a particular weekend that I happened to be recovering from surgery. I was lucky that my morphine prescription served a dual purpose: relieving the pain from the procedure and making his unrelenting sarcasm easier to take. At the time, McRae’s abilities behind a drum kit and his presence in a handful of Chicago-based indie-rock and punk bands didn’t exactly clue me in to his future in an electronic-based production group. After his own brief stint living in Seattle, McRae returned home to Chicago.

Somewhere in there, the Windy City reclaimed Nosmo as well, though I’m not quite sure in what order this all took place. While I wasn’t happy to see either of them leave, I know in retrospect that it was for the best, and may be the reason I’m still alive today. In fact, since Nosmo and McRae left Seattle, I’d had no real concerns about the future of my well being until my most recent visit. I found the two living comfortably in a studio that vaguely resembled a house. In the process of acquiring the establishment and padding it with more computers and synthesizers than furniture, they also managed to acquire an old high school associate and friend, Dave Rast, who was still plagued by his longstanding graffiti moniker “Ruin.”

I don’t quite know if their residence could be considered the house that Grayarea built or the house that built Grayarea, but it seems the last year of their lives has been even more of a blur than my vacations in Chi-Town. They self-released a 12” of the tracks “Asleep at the Wheel” and “One for the Road” on their startup Graylabel, and within a month of its pressing, it was being introduced to 8,000 Winter Music Conference attendees in Miami by Sasha. This was at the kickoff event of the Delta Heavy tour which was also broadcast a few weeks later on Radio One’s Essential Mix, introducing the group to the UK listening audience. The record quickly attracted the attention of other world class DJ’s such as D:Fuse, Chris Fortier, Max Graham, and others too numerous to mention. The short run of vinyl ran out quickly and before long, the trio found themselves sending out promos of their entire unreleased catalogue on CD-R. John Digweed couldn’t wait for the official Hope release of the break-beat remix of “One for the Road”, and he debuted it in June on his weekly Kiss FM show. And, as they say, it goes on like that…

Grayarea’s music has become imbedded in my consciousness, but upon seeing them live it occurred to me that I hadn’t really gotten the full picture from just listening to the records. The intricate break-beats, sweeping melodies, and pounding four-kicks really have to be heard out of a thundering PA system for one to truly appreciate what they do. As I watched McRae deliver a punishing assault to his cymbals, drum pads, and floor toms alongside Ruin’s dizzying fingers on his keyboards, Nosmo with one hand working his guitar and the other simultaneously sweeping filters and triggering beats— it occurred to me this was electronic music the way it was meant to be played and heard. The three stormed through eighteen tracks and transitions amidst an array of swirling lights and flying sweat. T-shirts & CD’s careened over their consoles towards the frenzied crowd, and members of the group even abandoned their onstage duties in favor of joining the dance floor. The trio’s punk rock and industrial roots are far from forgotten in what is easily one of the most interactive, unrelenting performances I’ve ever witnessed.

As my weekend comes to a close, and I survey the landscape of empty bottles, my head is banging and not just from the hangover: it’s nine in the morning, and Nosmo, McRae, and Ruin are already awake and working through their first cup of coffee and their next single for Hope. Right about now it’s becoming clear to me that no amount of hangovers and youthful indiscretions is going interfere with the bright future on Grayarea’s horizon. While they seem to be having a great time in the studio, I can tell by the restless pacing that Grayarea’s strongest desire lies in getting back out on the road and in front of new and unsuspecting audiences. I could go on, but to hell with it—I need some aspirin.

Amy Johnson,
Innocent Bystander