Silkworm show pleases fans

Indie-rock band plays to devoted few; continues to evolve

Though they may not be as well known as some of their contemporaries, the Seattle-based indie rock trio Silkworm - which formed in 1987 - has not only endured, it has successfully evolved. The group's Sunday night appearance at Cleveland's Euclid Tavern with Dianogah was a celebration of the new. Most of their hour-plus-long set was drawn from their recently released album: their sixth, Blueblood, is Silkworm's first for Chicago's famed Touch and Go Records.

Though Matador Records released both their 1996 breakthrough, Firewater, and 1997's Developer , Silkworm has since been in contact with Touch and Go.

"A couple years ago we started some recordings that ended up being Firewater, and Albini suggested we send the tapes to Matador and Touch and Go just for fun," drummer Michael Dahlquist explained before the show.

"They both liked it and they both wanted to put out our records. We went with Matador but they dumped us after two albums; they spent something like $100,000 trying to make us a hit and then Developer sold like dog shit. We shot one video, for 'Wet Fire Cracker' - that alone cost $10,000, and it got played only once on MTV. So we signed to Touch and Go. They're the best record label in the world."

Silkworm began life in Missoula, Montana, and eventually moved elsewhere. They relocated to Seattle in 1990 to take advantage of the city's then-thriving underground music scene.

Both Seattle and Silkworm have since changed dramatically. Then a four-person group comprising Dahlquist and founding members Andy Cohen (guitar/vocals), Joel Phelps (guitar/vocals), and Tim Midgett (bass/vocals), Silkworm was pared down to a three-piece in 1995 after Phelps left the band to begin a solo career. Seattle, meanwhile, rode out the superstardom of Nirvana and Pearl Jam to return to being a haven for independent music, albeit somewhat different than before.

"The new thing in Seattle is all these whiny, Built to Spill rip-off bands," claims Dahlquist. "But it's still a cool city; it's a really young and vibrant town. There's a great theater scene. The grunge thing gave the whole youth culture a shot in the arm."

Silkworm's Cleveland appearance was the fourth date on a two-week tour from Missoula to Boston. Though they didn't take the stage until around 11:30 p.m., according to Dahlquist it was a miracle that the band even made it to Cleveland at all.

"Our van broke down in Butte, Montana and we had to abandon it there with all our equipment, so we've been borrowing Dianogah's gear. We were gonna do the whole tour in Andy's '68 Valiant, but we drove it for 50 miles and decided to rent a swank minivan instead. It could have been worse: we once got into a huge van wreck in Wyoming and had to skip some East Coast tour dates with Shellac."

A glance around the crowd at the Euclid Tavern showed that despite its longevity, Silkworm remains a cult band. Though the crowd was rather small, they were intensely loyal: some had driven more than three hours to get to the show, and most were extremely familiar with the band's repertoire, shouting for Silkworm classics like the poignant Firecracker era character study "Slow Hands."

Still, most of the evening was devoted to songs from Blueblood, including the rousing album-opener "Eff," staples like "Beyond Repair," "I Must Repair (Table Cloth Tint)," "Said It Too Late," and "Empty Elevator Shaft," plus a surprise appearance by intensely emotional "Clean'd Me Out," the final song on the Blueblood. Propelled by Cohen's squeaking guitar work and plaintive voice, Midgett's Travis Bean bass riffs, and Dahlquist's pounding rhythms, Silkworm churned out dynamic, Pavement-esque rock 'n' roll until nearly 1 a.m.

It was a good thing the audience got a full dose of Silkworm - according to Dahlquist, the trio won't be touring much in the future because Cohen will be attending University of Chicago Law School starting this fall. Though the group pledges not to permanently break-up, Silkworm will "definitely be more of a recording band than a touring band" in the future, Dahlquist said.