Autobiography
The name comes from a Portland childhood. When Dave and his brother Tim were little, the folks would often fire up the '63 Valiant and take the family out to Sauvie Island. They spent many summer days splashing in the wakes of barges and dodging the maze of cowpies until it was time to leave. As dusk settled in one night, the little car came around the south end of the island and they glimpsed the lights of a grain loading elevator. It didn't stay that way for long though, it spun through two imaginations and became a launching pad. The Sauvie Island Moon Rocket Factory was born.
Despite all evidence to the contrary, there are still a handful of truly local bands in Portland. Linc was born in Oregon, Dave moved to Portland when he was five and Nathan spent most of his life in the west. We all grew up out here, but it took time to put us in a room together making music. This is not a new story. People meet and work together every day on all sorts of things. We just feel lucky to be three of them.
It was the 80's when Linc began his musical journey, performing with dozens of talented people over uncounted nights. As that decade wound down, Dave began recording, performing and writing songs. The 90's found them both in bands and Nathan discovering the sounds of the garage.
Fast forward to the fall of 1996. When they met, Dave had a lot of songs he wanted to record; Linc had a space and an old Polaris four-track that confused him. Soon, the Bastille was a little studio and tape was rolling. Thousands of miles away, Alessandro Crestani launched Best Kept Secret with a cassette from Suretoss.
1997
The first sessions lit up the Olympic Grain Mill like a concrete revival tent. A revolving cast of characters spent long evenings experimenting with our friend, Lori's words and vocals. The most regular contributors, Tim and his old pal Brad, added the finer touches. The first things we recorded became a fun and crazy side project called Bonobo Love. After releasing two K7 gems and launching our little Below the Radar label, a dozen monkeys called it a day.
The first fully realized recordings from the Sauvie Island Moon Rocket Factory were an outgrowth of those sessions and continued through the summer. A whole lot of tape was spun, but we finally settled on eleven songs. Super 8 Soundtrack was mixed with Bernd Minde around Thanksgiving. Thanks to Matt's last minute transportation rescue, we had a stack of tracks just in time for the new year. We celebrated by debuting as a duo at a friend's pub, the Tugboat.
1998
1998 began with a bang, our release was well received and we played some fun acoustic gigs including our first show with pop legend, Jim Basnight. Soon, our collaboration jumped into another collection of songs that quickly became Mudpuddle Park. Originally conceived with the idea of tracking the acoustic guitar outside in each of the parks, the notion was abandoned when Dave's trusty stereo recording walkman bit the dust.
The Bastille wasn't the only artistic venture in the neighborhood, but it was one of the only musical ones. We were part of a cool community of photographers, painters, sculptors, welders and craftsmen. At one time, nobody was within two floors of our space, but more and more people were discovering the Eastside Industrial District. Now people were staying overnight and complaining about everything from clarinet duets to electric bass. Ironically, a bench grinder would have been fine.
The crew endured quietly through the summer. Dave did his best by weaving a collection of Casio instrumentals in the headphones while he waited for folks to leave for the night. Some of these tunes were for the short film, Change of Heart and a few ended up on Mudpuddle Park. Later, some would be used in the Dutch television documentary, Palahniuk & Portland and the syndicated show, Weird TV.
Warm and balmy times also cemented a friendship and led to more music. (x)form was born, collecting improvisations from Christopher Hanis (Rhizome/Tableland) and Dave.
Wrapping up Mudpuddle Park was a challenge. In the fall, the rest of the vocal tracking was finished at Lori's house. The last few bits were added in Linc's living room as winter set in.
Christmas Eve of 1998 was truly polar and a frozen sprinkler main burst on the fourth floor. Unfortunately, it destroyed many paintings in the third floor space of our talented friend and neighbor, Patrick Puopolo. He took up his knife and paints, took it in stride and joined the Thieves Guild in the Everett Street Lofts.
1999
Briefly isolated for the repairs, we took it as a gift. Mudpuddle Park was mixed with Bernd in January and released early in the spring of 1999.
Around this time, we were contacted by Jamey Gray, a musician and Pratt student living in Brooklyn. He was writing and recording as 99 Cent Dream and contributing to a host of other projects. He also had a fledgling indie label that was already getting props. We traded tapes and before long, "Lunch with A Bouncing Space" was released. Our "12th & Sandy & Burnside" was on the plate, along with tasty cuts from 99 Cent Dream and others. All parties agree, this was a watershed moment. Before long, a wider audience would discover the Factory and Jamey would find his home in Portland.
Live shows in 1999 were alot of fun, but along with everyone else, we wanted someone to play drums and sing harmonies. Nobody suitable had surfaced in a stream of thumpers, so we almost always performed as a baroque-a-billy duo. Up to this point, all of our recordings featured Dave in his Hal Blaine costume and Linc as a whisky-fueled Ringo. After years of searching, we would enter the new century with a live drummer.
Scott is a fantastic songwriter who doesn't want anyone to know it. Clark is an energetic music fanatic who loves to jam. They have good friends and one of them is Nathan Ruckman. Starting in spring, the Bastille was home to a steady influx of talent we called the Scott Clark Nine. Spinning tape, enjoying a beer and finding a groove was the order of the day. Of all those fun evenings, the most notable one happened when Scott and Clark couldn't come. Nathan arrived right on time and suggested we play Factory tunes together. Three hours later, somebody -- perhaps all of us --- ventured that we try it again. We did.
Around this time, a copy of Lunch with A Bouncing Space made the trip across the Atlantic and into the mailbox of Best Kept Secret. Soon, it was on the stereo.
With the much ballyhooed Y2K coming, we scheduled one last Scott Clark Nine bash. The infamous "End of the World" session lasted from late December 29 until the wee hours of the 30th. It was a marathon that wound through four hours of tape. Many special guests were there, including the usual SC9 crew and Charlie from one of our all-time local favorites, Pond. The world didn't end that night or two days later. Who would have guessed?
2000
An idea that first popped up in an e-mail in 1999, the Red 76 Art Collective gained steam all winter. Beginning with the debut show in March of 2000, the three of us saw it through a wild year of existence. We pushed through the crowds to enjoy the paintings of Jessica Enouf and the photographs of Faulkner Short and Sam Gould. We dug stories from Kate Schwab and shared bills with the Pangs, Sunship and the late John Fahey to name a handful. One particularly challenging night, Andrew from the Intima loaned us a guitar to finish a show at the Laboratory. As the year wore on, Heather Q of Realm-8 went far and above the call of duty to help us share our music. It all resulted in the tiny, but highly praised release of 3-2-1 in February of 2001. Our experience is best summed up by an early poster for the collective. A charming young girl was shown carrying a cake full of candles on her head. The caption read, "Red 76 is a disaster waiting to happen."
As winter wound down, we booked more shows and began tracking Wy'east Can't Sleep. Work was split evenly between the Bastille and Below the Radar. Along the way, the endless hassles with the stone-age Polaris led us to a brief and fruitful relationship with a Yamaha. By the end of the sessions, both would pass into that great parts bin in the sky.
The spring brought more people into our lives. Upstairs from the Bastille, a dance troupe from Missoula moved in and we wasted no time helping them hammer together a decent space. After a week or so, they took a break from sheetrock, sandpaper and studs for their Portland debut with the Moon Rocket Factory. While we rolled through a chestnut from the Clique, they burst into the Martial Art gallery and surprised everyone with improvised grace, humor and sensuality. Then, like a desert thunderstorm, they disappeared, leaving a crowd of breathless people exclaiming, "Who was that?" The seeds were sown. Once the floor of their studio was down, Margie Fairchild, Heidi Junkersfeld and their talented friends leapt into rehearsals for Dark Porch Productions first show at the Echo Theatre, A Bed Laid of 7000 Threads. When the big weekend came, they all put in fine performances to a packed house. Later in the year, Heidi and Margie sang sweetly on the Wy'east Can't Sleep cut, "Yerownville" -- a song they inspired.
Colin Meloy was also from Montana and friends with the girls upstairs, so we caught one of his fine solo shows at the Rabbit Hole. After hanging out together, he offered Dave a slot in an upcoming evening of unbridled Fegmania. Sharing the stage at the Robyn Hitchcock tribute was recent Louisiana transplant and Elephant 6 alumnus, Ross Beach. Ross and Colin thought it would be a fine idea if their brand new bands played a show with the Moon Rocket Factory. Dave agreed and Colin booked the Laurelthirst. On September 27, we shared the bill with the Decemberists -- featuring an under-the-weather-tea-sipping-trooper-til-the-end Colin -- and witnessed the fantastic debut of Ross & the Hellpets.
2001
The year began with more fun shows around town. The last night in January we played live on KBOO for the "Church of Northwest Music." A sceptical fellow by most accounts, Marc Baker encouraged us without reservation and made us feel right at home. The engineers did such a splendid job, our performance of "Old Salt" was later released on the second volume of Lunch With A Bouncing Space.A limited edition boxed set of our first three albums, 3-2-1 was unveiled on cd-r in February. In the local press, Julianne Shepherd, Phil Busse and Zach Dundas all had thoughtful and gracious reactions. To our delight, the release party brought a friendly and fiesty crowd to Meow Meow.
Through spring and summer we played more shows. Under a variety of circumstances in a dozen different venues, we shared bills with quite a few nice people and a couple other people. Some blessed nights, friends like Sleepy Jake proved a long-standing theory: A cool sound engineer is so much better than a prick with a warm set of hands on the sliders.
Sometimes things got strange. After a flurry of last minute e-mails, the Cave-Ins and Pleasures of the Harbour came up from the Bay Area. They joined Ross & the Hellpets and spent a surreal night with us at a local art gallery. A venue not suited to live music, it was our best option, since it was our last option. The vulgar sideshow atmosphere underscored the manic feel of the sculptures and paintings. Hours unfolded like a drunken collaboration between Federico Fellini and Russ Meyer. Still, the music was splendid, much of the art was as well and the early morning spicy mac from the Montage eased the pain of sleeping en masse in the Bastille. A breakfast at My Father's Place would not have been complete without a favorite regular leaving on a stretcher with a seizure. Spin the live Black Flag disc, Who's Got the 10 1/2? It is never a dull tour through Portland.
As the days got nicer, we began recording another collection. First it was called, Full Tank Wish List. Then it was called, Picture Car. Late one night, Linc told the sad and epic tale of his gorgeous motorcycle and it's tragic fate. Stolen: Honda Dream quickly became a song and the new name fit like a good helmet.
Summer passed and we bid farewell to the Bastille. The last boxes were packed, September arrived and with it came little Linus. One minute we were celebrating Nathan's wonderful baby boy and the next we were blinking in non-stop television glare. After that morning of terrible carnage, nothing was quite the same. The world was ruled by the "force of farce" that David James Duncan described in his book, "The Brothers K."
Still, Musicfest Northwest and other shows were great fun, new friends were made and Stolen: Honda Dream was coming along. Dave began stints on drums with the Persimmons and the SETI Ensemble. Linc worked with Lisa Miller and put nights into a number of other side projects. The year flew past. We didn't realize that the most challenging times were only beginning.
