A decade ago, Grafton’s early career as barebones garage punk hellraisers culminated in the self-titled debut Lou Poster had always imagined.
“This first record, that’s the one I started envisioning from the time I was 19,” said Poster, Grafton’s guitarist, singer and mastermind.
Two lineup changes and three records later, Poster and drummer Jason McKiernan will reunite with original bassist Donovan Roth on Friday to celebrate the 10th anniversary of the debut, 15 years as a band and Poster’s 35th birthday.
They’ll play the entire LP on Friday, hearkening to when they were young guns of Columbus rock.
“It’s more a celebration that we’re still alive,” McKiernan said.
Poster relocated to Columbus in 1995 and moved in with McKiernan the following year. Soon they were bashing out bluesy punk rock inspired by Columbus duo The Hairy Patt Band. Gaunt’s searing pop-punk, Gibson Bros.′ howlin’ stomp and Monster Truck Five’s churlish noise-mongering were in the mix too.
“All those bands that we were into were the guys that we were afraid of at the bar,” Poster said.
When the annals for the rock scene of Agit hometown Columbus, Ohio are written, there are certain names that will stand out, their direct input and/or influence sewing a thread that cuts across decades and perhaps generations. Taking their cues from the “anyone can do it” ethos of punk, but losing some of the urbanity for distinctly Midwestern accents and skepticism, a close knit bunch of book-fed and alcohol-bred minds formed the nucleus of the indie-genous scene in the late ‘70s and throughout the ‘80s and into the ‘90s. Don Howland, Mike “Rep” Hummel, Jim Shepard, Tommy Jay, Ron House—among others, the contributions of these five to the Columbus pantheon (if there is one) can’t be overstated. Gibson Bros., Great Plains, V-3, Quotas, Bassholes, Slave Apartments—Columbus’ musical DNA can be traced directly to these bands.
But despite crossed paths in various combinations, it wasn’t until a weekend in 1997 that those five all got together so that, as Hummel put it, “some documentation to that fellowship (would) be recorded on tape before the participants doddered off into old age.” With Jay, Hummel and friend Jerry Wick (of Gaunt) manning a four-track, the group convened at Jay’s studio barn in the rural suburb of Harrisburg and recorded over two days. The result was The Room Isn’t Big Enough, an album released on Hummel’s Old Age/No Age label under the fitting moniker of Ego Summit. While the contributors’ credentials spoke for themselves, the album received little attention when it was released.
I saw Gaunt twice, and though I had ample opportunity to introduce myself to the band, I passed. Never had a conversation with Jerry, or so much as submitted a fan letter. No drooling fanboy adoration here, just a sincere respect for the group's music and down to earth ethos. Nevertheless, when I learned on January 11, 2001 that he was the victim of a hit and run accident while bicycling home in the small hours of the night before, I was instantly dumbstruck and gutted. I was the one that broke the news to a number of my friends, mostly via email. I recall getting home from work that night and scouring the web for any more info on the circumstances of his death, looking for a 'chatroom' or a 'thread' where I could share my thoughts. I did find a site where I was able to leave condolences for his family, and I left it at that.
On a recent Friday night in Columbus, Ohio, a garage-turned-art space-turned- recording studio called Magnetic Planet is the site of a hastily arranged concert featuring Gaunt, Appalachian Death Ride, Moviola, Lincoln Logs, and Monster Zero-a sampling of the city’s formidable, if largely unknown, rock & roll roster. Despite the thundering punk-pop, the BYOB event has a disarmingly casual air; there’s no cover charge and virtually no distinction between the musicians and the slacking audience from Ohio State. It may not look like the future of rock & roll, but in the current clime of the music biz, it’s a record-company executive’s dream. Major labels have been on the hunt for the next hitmaking hamlet since well before the orgy of Seattle signings. In fact, the search for the Next Big Scene dates back to the early ’80s discovery of R.E.M. in the boho enclave of Athens, Ga. Since then, Austin, Tex., Champaign, Ill., Chapel Hill, N.C., San Diego, and even Halifax, Nova Scotia, have been candidates for the title.
