ROANOKE TIMES

                         Roanoke Times
                 Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.

DATE: MONDAY, June 12, 1995                   TAG: 9507060010
SECTION: EXTRA                    PAGE: 1   EDITION: METRO 
SOURCE: EDNA GUNDERSEN USA TODAY
DATELINE:                                 LENGTH: Long


'STRAIGHT-AHEAD AMERICAN MUSIC'

"We're very much in the 90s," boasts Mark Bryan, guitarist for soulful rock quartet Hootie & the Blowfish.

He's not referring to the decade. Frankly, the Hooties don't give a hoot about up-to-the-minute pop music trends. Bryan's talking golf scores.

"We've all hit in the 80s, but we regularly shoot in the 90s," he says a day after the inseparable foursome returned from the Masters golf tournament. "Whenever we get a day off, we're on the course."

The band's career is on course as well. The debut album "Cracked Rear View," quietly released last July, has sold nearly 3 million copies. "Hold My Hand" is a VH1 staple and top 20 hit, and "Hey Hey What Can I Do," Hootie's track on the Led Zeppelin tribute compilation "Encomium," is gaining radio airplay nationwide. The band just ended tours opening for Toad the Wet Sprocket and Big Head Todd and the Monsters and will headline a U.S. tour starting with Wednesday's appearance at the Salem Civic Center. All laudable achievements for a band that is unhip, unpretty, uncontroversial and nowhere near Seattle.

"They sing about issues but aren't rebellious or aggressive or depressed," says Val Azzoli, president of the Atlantic Group, which won Hootie despite greener offers from other labels. "It's straight-ahead American music. We felt there was a place for that. I always maintained that if we could get the album to gold [500,000 copies], word of mouth would take it to a much higher level. But I had no idea it would be this big. It suddenly had a life of its own."

Success boosted Hootie's profile but didn't alter priorities. Which brings us back to golf.

"If you work with us, playing golf is a prerequisite - otherwise you'll sit in the bus for four hours while the rest of us play," singer Darius Rucker says, adding saucily, "I'm definitely the best, but the others would fight me on that point."

Even when competition heats up at the 18th hole, squabbles are rare. Golf is a passion that cements this four-way friendship as much as the Southern-fried music it was built on a decade ago, when the musicians were enrolled at the University of South Carolina in Columbia.

"We started out playing [music] on borrowed equipment at a packed chicken wing joint across from the dorm," recalls Bryan, 27, who's now grateful they didn't experience instant success. "Growing gradually was key to keeping us together. It's made us more cohesive."

At first, Hootie aimed low.

"We started playing in college so we could drink free beers and meet girls," says Rucker, 28. "When we got out of college, we thought, now what? I don't want a job. So we made a promise to see this to the end. That one talk was a turning point."

Just paying rent proved a challenge for Rucker, Bryan, bassist Dean Felber, 27, and drummer Jim "Soni" Sonefeld, 30.

"At our lowest point, Dean and I were living in a horrible apartment for $75 a month," Rucker says. "We had a friend at a Chinese restaurant and we'd get big to-go plates of Ramen noodles for $3 and eat for a week. There was no food, no money, but we never called our families to ask for handouts."

The band, named after two of Rucker's pals (owl-eyed Hootie and jowly Blowfish), built a solid following in the South by playing 250 shows a year (300 in 1994).

Added revenue came from selling T-shirts and homemade tapes, including 1990's "Hootie & the Blowfish," 1992's "Time" and 1993's six-song "Kootchypop," which sold 50,000 copies and drew the attention of Atlantic talent scout Tim Sommer.

He signed the band in 1994. By year's end, Hootie was South Carolina's hottest musical export since Dizzy Gillespie and Eartha Kitt.

Azzoli attributes the band's breakthrough to three factors: "They're a hard-working touring band, VH1 got on the bandwagon very early, and radio followed."

Initial reaction to July's release of "Cracked Rear View" was lukewarm.

"When it came out, nobody wanted to deal with us," Rucker says. "Maybe they thought we sucked. VH1 made the difference."

The channel adopted Hootie as its house band, heavily airing videos for "Hold My Hand"and "Let Her Cry," tunes that instantly clicked with VH1's older audience.

"Our viewers may be turned off by metal and rap, but they're dying to hear a great new singer/songwriter," says VH1 president John Sykes. "Hootie breaking in the '90s reminds me of Crosby, Stills and Nash breaking in the '60s as a hip alternative to the heavy rock of Cream and Jimi Hendrix. Now we have Pearl Jam and Stone Temple Pilots, but there's also a hunger for good singer/songwriters like Elton John and James Taylor. Hootie's in that group. They're at the beginning of an incredible career."

Like Sheryl Crow and Counting Crows, Hootie appeals to listeners older than 25, the fastest-growing segment of record buyers.

Hootie's rootsy, heartfelt tunes deal with romance, family bonds and such social concerns as racism. The band's interracial makeup has never been an issue internally and is discussed only if prompted by interviewers. When the occasional bigot hurls the ``n" word at Rucker, his bandmates explode.

"Those guys are more hot-headed about it than I am," Rucker says. "They take it harder. I'm used to it, and I ignore it. I'm tired of dealing with other people's ignorance."



 by CNB