The lead singer in a rock band is obvious in their importance: get bored with them, get bored with all of it pretty quickly. In mainstream music, a rock persona can adapt an iconic status, and Linda held that kind of power over the audience. I think that the reckless in your face attitude in rock music is appealing to regular folk because they want to visit your life but they don’t have the means to live there.
One night Shaunna and I wandered into the Nightbreak and caught Linda playing a solo set. We were blown away by her raw power and emotion. She was singing a song called “Down on Your Face” – an over the top anthem born of rip-out-your-heart honesty, brutal and raw in it’s confession. Linda held a force over the crowd that was obvious, and I could only imagine how powerful it would be to blend strong instrumentation with such a stunning personality.
Our first gig was a benefit for ACT UP and the Needle Exchange on January 24 1990
We immediately asked her to be in our band, and she agreed. Our first rehearsal was scheduled for October 17, 1989 – which turned out to the same day as a major San Francisco earthquake. We managed to get together within the next day or so, and within a few months we were playing out in clubs.
The first song we probably ever played together was Whole Lotta Love by Led Zeppelin because it’s a song that everyone knew. Shaunna had written a collection of uptempo rock songs that we quickly learned, and we also began collaborating on songs together. Sometimes Wanda and I would jam on a groove and a song would be built from that. Soon Linda began introducing her songs to us and we worked them out together at practice, experimenting with tempos and arrangements.
Initially Linda had some trouble adhering to any kind of schedule; admittedly she was used to doing what she wanted when she wanted.
In an early interview by Gary Indiana, Linda said:
“For the first couple of months I had a hard time getting to practice because I was so used to being solo. I could practice whenever I wanted, pick up my guitar and go do whatever I wanted. I had to snap out of it and think Linda, this is a band now, this is not your own time at your own convenience – you have to get it together. I’m not used to people relying on me. Yeah it was hard at the beginning.”
We all had plenty of angst, that’s for sure and Linda was a force to be reckoned with. At our early shows she used to scream a lot and she basically lost her voice after every show. Her delivery made clear that she had a lot inside of her fighting for a way out. Singing was an opportunity to just get in someone’s face and yell her truths – but she was still young and hadn’t developed her methodology yet. Sometimes it seemed that her voice took control of her, shaking her like a rag doll. We were her first band, her first time with a wall of sound behind her. It launched her like a rocket. Our early shows are displays of pure aggression. Wanda and I challenged each other and were driven and fierce in our musical exchange. It was our way of flirting with each other, honestly. It was easy to love playing in this band; I couldn’t imagine three musicians I would rather be in a room with.
San Francisco Sentinel April 19 1990
We practiced almost every night of the week. And after rehearsal we went out to see bands like Stone Fox, Spokepoker, The Jackson Saints, Honeypot, Sister Double Happiness and the Sextants. Our studio was in a building we called the Turko-Persian rug factory in the Balboa Park district of San Francisco. Lots of our friends’ bands practiced there, my memories of the eclectic music meandering through the halls are as vivid as those of the musicians themselves. The music community we found ourselves immeshed in was instrumental in pushing us forward. No one rested for a minute; all the conversations echoing through the halls included where and when your next gig was, we should play a show together, etc.
Early shows of the band were parties, with the band easily drinking as much as the audience. After a few incidents of drunken mayhem we decided to refrain from alcohol consumption during our shows, and it paid off in spades. We connected musically and emotionally and found a collective focus. We were quickly packing the Nightbreak and moving on to bigger clubs. As positive reviews of our shows helped us gain momentum Dawn Holliday at The Paradise Lounge finally gave us a gig – I will never forget her saying “I don’t really understand the extent of your appeal, but you have it – so you can play here”. The I-Beam, and the DNA Lounge soon followed suit.
