Us Americans sometimes have problems classifying music (leaving aside the question of why even bother classifying it at all). This nomenclatural confusion has two results. One is the constant creation of new terms like "emo," which is basically sensitive hardcore, but not to be confused with hard-core punk that has crying in it. The other is simply ramming square pegs into round holes.
Such is what happened in 2002, when a band called Pepper won for Best World Music at the San Diego Music Awards. Now, it's true the trio is from Hawaii, which is much more exotic than Oceanside, and it's true the music produced by guitarist Kaleo Wassman, bassist Bret Bollinger and drummer Yesod Williams is a mix of reggae and rock that leans toward dance hall. But world music? Come on, these guys are as American as apple pie, surfboards and plate lunches.
"It was a surprise. We couldn't even believe it," says Williams from a cell phone in a van headed toward Rhode Island one afternoon. "We were like, 'Oh, that's weird.' But I guess it's just because of the reggae, you know what I'm saying? We didn't expect to win that at all. We went to the ceremony to just have a few beers, and they ended up calling our name and it was trippin'."
Chalk it up to a band that's still evolving, touring in support of their latest disc, In With The Old, as they hit the House of Blues May 26 with local boys Shotface and Happy Campers.
"[Our style is] kind of everywhere, especially on this new album," explains Williams. "It's still all over the place but we've still got more of a signature sound we're forming, we're etching into our own."
But no matter where their sound goes, the islands are never far behind. The band got its start with Wassman and Bollinger back in the eighth grade. The duo stayed together for years, going through a succession of drummers. Eventually, they heard of Williams and sought him out. Williams had quit playing drums for about five years when Wassman and Bollinger found him. They talked him into joining, offering promises of more girls, if their press material is to be believed, at least. That was back in 1997. They all shared a love for metal, and began playing around Hawaii, eventually attracting the attention of Volcom Entertainment. In 2000, they felt they had to make the move to the mainland, landing in San Diego.
"It's easy to get stuck there. It's one of those things where three years will go by, and you'll be like, 'Holy shit! I haven't done anything in the last three years!' But you had a lot of fun and surfed a lot of good waves and shit like that. But, no, it was bittersweet," says Williams. "But it was definitely a bummer too, because we love Hawaii and it's our home. California, we say, is just the place where we keep our shit."
That same year, they released Give n' It. They were part of the Van Warps tour in 2001, and then came out with Kona Town in 2002, and again took part in the Van Warps tours in both 2002 and 2003. Now, they even have their own label, Law Records.
It's been an uphill battle, as it is with any band, but one thing Pepper has on its side is a Hawaiian chauvinism that transcends distance.
"We've always had friends here from Hawaii. That's one thing we learned moving over here is we're coming from the weirdest state," says Williams. "We'll run into someone who'll be at the show with a Hawaiian flag. Like in New York the other night, and someone had a huge Hawaiian flag at the show, and they were from Hilo or something like that. That's why we always have such good shows in Vegas, 'cause it's like we're at a show in Hawaii."
That loyalty is returned in kind, as Pepper is planning to return to Hawaii for their official CD release tour, as well as play the Kona Town Festival, bringing along Slightly Stoopid and Bargain Music to give the locals something other than the area's ubiquitous reggae.
"We've got to keep it real and go back to where we come from and just remember who we are," says Williams. That's the most important part of almost any tour is going back home. It's calm and it's family and it's love." Mushy talk from a drummer in a rock-reggae-dancehall band (damn those labels). Over the cell phone's signal noise, I can hear Williams' two band mates snickering. But none of them deny the sentiment.