Prevalent benevolence

>> L.A.’s Lavender Diamond take peace, love
and understanding seriously

AFFIRMATIVE ACTION: Lavender Diamond

by RUPERT BOTTENBERG

They’ve titled their debut album Imagine Our Love, but L.A.’s Lavender Diamond leave little to the imagination. Over an archetypal amalgam of sugary ’70s AOR pop-rock, wispy folk, bubblegum, stirring hymns and proto-hippie protest songs, classically trained singer Becky Stark lets loose a line of lyricism in which the word “love” is the lynchpin and positivity precludes passivity. That’s mirrored in the artwork of drummer Ron Regé Jr., long a familiar name in the indie comics scene, whose whimsical, wonderstruck drawings pack out the CD booklet (recent comics are also at the band’s Web site). The Mirror reached Regé by phone as Lavender Diamond readied themselves for a short tour, opening for alternative cinema legend John Waters’ Christmas klatsch sessions.

Mirror: Lavender Diamond urges listeners towards peace and love, both interpersonal and ecological—not merely in a superficial, lip-service fashion but rather a very profound, pervasive and insistent manner.

Ron Regé Jr: It’s like that Elvis Costello song, “(What’s So Funny ’Bout) Peace, Love, and Understanding.” Maybe I’m wrong, but I’m pretty sure I’ve heard interviews with him and Nick Lowe—it’s a Nick Lowe song—where they’re like, “It’s not supposed to be funny. It’s sounds funny but I’m actually serious,” which is kind of the whole gist of it. Especially in these days, it’s emergency time. Things are different, it’s not the ’60s anymore, the environment and everything, with the war—it’s time to be serious. It’s nothing to joke around about, and it’s been played off by everyone as being kinda goofy for so long. Whatever, so are skulls and crossbones. The Misfits are goofy. It’s like, the opposite is goofy too. Marching down the street wearing black can be goofy.

M: Have you found anyone to have a strong negative reaction to Lavender Diamond’s agenda and expression?

RR: Oh, yeah. Oh, yeah yeah yeah. Sometimes they get it wrong—“I hate this sweet-sounding music, I’m into hard, dark stuff, it’s a hard, dark time!” Stuff like that is kinda funny. It’s like, alright, I understand. But I did read one thing on the Internet where someone had seen our concert and was so upset that we would dare tell him there was love and hope in the world, because everything is so terrible! It was a really long post, and he was really thinking about it. I thought, this is great—he’s really going against us, but we made him think.

M: I’ve followed your comics for years now, so I’m glad you’ve integrated your comics with the music of Lavender Diamond. How do the two inform each other during the process of creation?

RR: I don’t know if the comics affect the music that much, but definitely the other way around. My comics work is usually pretty personal, whether I’m doing fiction or abstract stuff. I’m always doing something different, so definitely ideas that I’ve had, things that have happened with the band, are shown in the comics. They’re good antidotes to each other, because drawing comics is about sitting by yourself in a room, and being in a band is about going really far away from home and being out in front of people all the time.

With John Waters at le National on Sunday,
Dec. 16, 8 p.m., $35, and at the Drawn &
Quarterly Bookstore (211 Bernard W.)
on Sunday, Dec. 16, 2 p.m., free