>> Montrealers P5K throw hard work into the indie slacker ethic

by JOHNSON CUMMINS

In the debut episode of filmmaker Bruce McDonald's CBC-TV dud Platinum, we're introduced to an all-girl band on the verge of "making it" and a young upstart A&R man who, in between talking to a framed picture of John Lennon, desperately tries to convince the band to not sign with a major. By yammering on about creative control and other good stuff like that, the A&R man entices the young band to fight the good fight and sign with his small fledgling indie label.

Now, it's not unlike CBC to not get the story exactly right (e.g. Catwalk) or Bruce McDonald to stretch the truth a little bit (e.g. Roadkill), but this was ridiculous. An indie label housed in a two-million-dollar building, complete with its own video editing suite and recording studio? A struggling young band whose rehearsal digs are in the Rialto theatre? C'mon Bruce. Reality check please!

Back in the real world, there is a band who's always remained true to their artistic integrity while being part of an independent record label. A label that released 10 albums last year alone. That band is P5K (shorthand for Pest 5000), headed by Patti Schmidt (vocals, bass), and rounded out by Kevin Kamoda (guitar, keyboards and vocals), Jon Ascensio (guitar, keyboards and vocals), Andy Vial (drums) and Geneviève Heistek (violin and vocals).

Furthermore, P5K can boast of something that the majority of bands who hang out at say, the Bifteck, can't. These folks actually have jobs. Not the "I'm just working here until I get discovered" kind of jobs, but real jobs. Both Jon and Kevin "move units" at Cargo records, while Patti and Geneviève can be found on the left of the dial producing one of the best radio shows on CBC, Brave New Waves.

Patti's instantly recognizable voice is coming from a pay phone in Providence, R.I. during soundcheck. Struggling over a snare check while fending off a person waiting for the horn, Patti retains the intelligent, witty, irreverent voice I'm used to hearing on Brave New Waves. But when the interviewing tables are turned, she seems more than a bit uncomfortable. "I really like to keep my band and my job as separate as possible," she says. "I guess that's why we've always disassociated ourselves from the Canadian music scene--I'm just too self-conscious of my job. Maybe that's why I hate playing in Canada."

Despite the college radio success of Pest 5000's 1996 debut release Interabang, Patti has remained true to her self-consciousness and has never included Pest 5000 on Brave New Waves' play list. Even earlier this year, when CBC budget cuts threatened her livelihood, Patti says she never entertained any plans of making her band a full-time job. "I mean, it would be heartbreaking," she says. "It would definitely ruin the band."

When I mention the work ethic epitomized by bands like Six Finger Satellite--that keeping your day job is an essential ingredient to the making of good music--Patti is quick to agree. "If I found out I didn't have a job tomorrow, I'd go out and get another one. All the time in the world is not going to get me to concentrate on the band anymore than I already am.

"I think success comes in cycles. If somebody likes you for a year, and you give up your day job to concentrate more on the band, then you're screwing yourself, because it doesn't mean success will be there later. There's no kind of guarantee."

It seems strange talking to a familiar voice coming from a place like Providence, especially considering the band rarely pulls up their stakes from Montreal. P5K's touring is kept to a bare minimum and not because of job constraints. Explains Patti: "I just don't subscribe to the paying your dues ethic of hitting the road and touring for a long time. I think any band who believes that is headed for heartbreak. Just look at the Asexuals or the Doughboys."

Before I puke up every congealed gas-station burrito this road-weary-rocker-turned-interviewer has ever ingested [this writer was a Doughboy-ed], I'll accept the idea that maybe these pesky little indie slackers might be onto something. Even with very few P5K performances under their belts, the band have had massive press attention lavished upon them: CMJ added them to their monthly top five-CD list, Toronto's Eye magazine has placed them as #22 on their critics poll of 1996, and they even received compliments from across the big pond from none other than influential BBC radio jock John Peel.

Most young bands would kill for this much notice, but Patti remains unaffected and, despite my persistence, refuses to trumpet her band's acclaim. "As long as you have serviced the press with your CD properly, you'll always end up with some good write-ups and critical acclaim," she says.

And she quickly sweeps any ideas about the power of the press. "Tortoise are written up everywhere and they've only sold 10,000 albums," she says. "That would hardly make them rich."

But P5K do seem on the road to riches, really. For example, last year's record release for Interabang at the Cabaret was packed to the rafters with P5K fans, who seem to come out of the woodwork with every rare appearance by the band. These "fans" are not of your typical Ozzy-garden variety; in fact, they can best be described as myopic, shy and to be frank, geeky.

"No matter where we play we always seem to attract the pocket protector set," laughs Patti. "I really can't figure it out. After we play there will always be these people who will come up to us and kind of talk to our feet, because they're too shy to look at us. We really tend to attract the bumbling, anti-social types."

It's not surprising. I mean, let's face it, Marilyn Manson P5K ain't. Kevin and Jon's spastic on-stage body gyrations look like two tops spinning horribly out of control, and Genvieve usually has her back to the audience. Meanwhile, Patti's trademark "caught in the headlights" look is only broken when she stops to get a quick sip of beer in between songs. I'll admit it is cute to watch, but it would hardly cut the mustard at an Entombed show.

"I know I'm not very good at being on-stage," she admits. "For two years, I refused to look people in the crowd in the eye. But I'd like to get better. I know it's painful to watch awkward people on-stage and I know I'm really awkward, and that's why I still enjoy band rehearsals over live shows. But I'm getting more comfortable."

If Patti is reluctant to talk about P5K , she'll talk a blue streak when it comes to other bands. Always the fan, Patti came up with the idea of starting her own label as a vehicle to turn other people on to the music she thought was important. Patti, along with bandmate Geneviève and graphic artist Pat Hamou, have now put out over 20 releases (from bands including Sportsguitar, Slow Lorris, Eric's Trip and the Grifters) on their vanity label Derivative. And despite tight financial binds, they are continuing to release new and vital treats for the ears.

Starting off as a 7"-vinyl-only label, Derivative was forced to move with the times and started putting out CDs for basic survival. "We have become comfortable in the CD realm," says Patti. "We don't strive to reach a bigger audience for a band: I've told artists not to send us stuff that might get them signed, because we don't have the resources or the desire to make them superstars. I think people should always try to put out stuff themselves."

Derivative is now on its 27th release, namely P5K's own Palimpsest. This CD collection of rare 7"-only releases, as well as remixes of songs from Interabang, is the band's strongest and most pleasantly bizarre release yet. The list of people doing remixes reads like a who's who list of indie coolness: John Hughes III (ex of Bill Ding), David Kristian, Rob Christiansen (from Teenbeat's Viva Satellite), Christof Migone (DJ Krostof) and Don Pyle (Shadowy Men, Phonocomb).

"We compiled this wish list of people we really admired and we were blown away by how generous they were, even though there was no money involved," says Patti. "We wanted to get the 7" stuff remixed without it getting to dancy--I'm not really into the Chemical Brothers or anything really clubby. But Kevin and I have always been into electronica, so I feel really comfortable with the new album."

Ultimately, Patti's take on everything she does with P5K is more similar to Martin Scorsese's The Last Waltz than Bruce McDonald's Platinum. "I just pretend that I'm doing everything as if it's the last time I'm ever going to do it," she explains. "That's how I make it work for myself." Patti, it's okay to pretend, but do stay away from framed pictures of John Lennon.

Bring your pocket protectors down to the Petit Campus on Nov. 5. Mishima and Martin Petrallt will be warming up the stage for what according to Patti may be P5K's last performance, although we at the Mirror wouldn't bet on it