Friday, Mar. 28, 2008

Ruby Suns are blowing up - but this time it's not their RV

By Jeremy Dutton

When was the last time you heard of a band blowing up in the Tri-Cities?

You might get a point for Loudermilk turned Gosling, the little band that could with their disheartening story of the disappearing record label. But something burned even brighter in our dusty slice of Washington in 2006.

It was two years ago almost to the day that an unassuming band called the Ruby Suns from New Zealand was rolling through the Tri-Cities on Interstate 82 en route to Seattle in their tour RV. Just outside of town, a passing motorist flagged them down, arms flailing, signaling their ride was currently shooting flames.

“I yelled, ‘Get the hell out!' ” band member Amee Robinson recounted to the Herald at the time.

That would be the very definition of a band blowing up.

But now the Ruby Suns are blowing up in an entirely different way. Their latest album Sea Lion has racked up all sorts of indie press glory including the judiciously bestowed “best new music” recommendation from Pitchfork (www.pitchforkmedia. com), an online indie mag.

And fresh off a six-show stand at the über-trendy South by Southwest music conference in Austin, Texas, I was able to catch up with the band over the phone. Lead singer Ryan McPhun and his mates were headed to New Orleans on an off-day before a show in Atlanta when he picked up.

First things first, I asked him if he still shares his Tri-City story.

“Too often,” he said. “Every interviewer asks.”

The Herald reported in 2006 that the cause of the fire that incinerated their instruments, passports and other belongings was unknown. And two years later, that's still the case.

“We would have had to pay money to find out,” he said. “It cost the insurance company more to investigate than just write a check and declare it a total loss.”

The mishap involving the RV that they affectionately called “Harvey” could have followed a long line of fiery crashes that have claimed the lives of other musicians like rockers Buddy Holly and Ronnie Van Zant.

But luck didn't just save their lives. It picked them up and dusted them off.

They were put in contact with Richland Fire Chief Grant Baynes, who in this gloriously small world happened to be a former New Zealander.

“We spent two days in Richland just trying to sort things out,” he said. “Grant let us use his phone, Internet and fax.”

The band also picked up some instruments from local shops and played a benefit show at Reata Springs Baptist Church in Richland. The group ended up canceling five or six shows through the ordeal but salvaged a few to finish out their tour.

McPhun also said the band recently wrote Baynes a letter of thanks.

“It was strange but fun ... and pretty overwhelming that complete strangers could be so nice.”

After a dropped call, I picked things back up by asking McPhun to list some music us mainlanders might be missing out on in the Kiwi scene.

He began by saying he saw one of his favorite non-Kiwi artists in Spanish musician El Guincho at SXSW, then the SubPop-signed McPhun stayed on message and listed two other SubPop bands, the hilarious comedic band Flight of the Conchords and the Brunettes, which McPhun also was a part of. That's not a knock against SubPop though. The label also sent me a copy of the Ruby Suns' Sea Lion a couple of weeks ago.

Their music definitely has an island flair, packed with Polynesian rhythms, all sorts of instruments, sonic experimentation and happy hand claps. But the best part about the CD could be found in the liner notes. Midway down in the thank yous the band gives a shout-out to “the kind people of Kennewick.”

That's right -- Kennewick, though it was clearly Richland folk who were the driving force to get the band back on its feet. But McPhun said it was an honest mistake.

“We send our love. I hope the people of Richland don't get bummed out. We meant to say Tri-Cities.”

The Ruby Suns will be headed back this way soon. They've got a gig set Tuesday at Chop Suey in Seattle. The trials of touring won't permit a stop back here, but that doesn't necessarily mean they won't be passing through.

This time they're traveling in another RV, a rented 25-foot Ford that they call “Little House,” a name that belies a sense of detachment after the loss of “Harvey.”

Or maybe they've just decided they don't want to get burned again.

- Jeremy Dutton: jdutton@ tricityherald.com; 582-1525.