Reggae band gets a groove on at North Shore retreat

By Derek Paiva
Advertiser Entertainment Writer

Clockwise from left, Paul Kastick, Richard "Goofy" Campbell, Kevin Batchelor, James McWhinney and Quino of Big Mountain were recording last week on O'ahu's North Shore. Deborah Booker • The Honolulu Advertiser Big Mountain 7 p.m. today and Saturday Kapono's $18 general, $15 advance 536-2161 Also: 7 p.m. Sunday, Kaua'i War Memorial Stadium, $10 advance and $15 at the door

Having labored diligently on a blender full of the stuff for the last five minutes, he is anxious to find out what his guest thinks of the Big Mountain pause that refreshes. Before I can give the matter some thought, he pours a heaping helping of the thick, beige concoction into a glass, which he hands over proudly and waits for me to drink up.

In the airy dining nook/recording studio the band has set up in a smallish North Shore homestead, most of the other members of Big Mountain — percussionist/vocalist James McWhinney, drummer Paul Kastick and keyboard player Richard "Goofy" Campbell — watch anxiously for the first reaction, too. Beginning to suspect some foul play is afoot, I wait for Quino to take a sip from his glass first. He does, and I follow.

"It's Guinness, milk, honey and peanut butter blended with some other stuff," says Quino, smacking his lips. "You like it?"

While not exactly something I would consider serving guests at my next dinner party, the shake is indeed quite tasty — more peanut buttery and sweet than Dublin industrial. It does, however, reek a bit of an Irish pub at closing time when brought to the lips.

"That there gives you stamina, mon," says Paul, as he messes with an electronic drum console perched on a coffee table. "I've been told since I was 6 years old that Guinness gives you stamina. You have a date, give the girl a Guinness, mon."

Goofy and James nod their approval. And Quino?

"Let me know when you want another one, man," he says, still flashing that grin.

Sure, mon.

It doesn't take long for the members of Big Mountain to make a complete stranger feel at home in their midst. Even if the home in question isn't really theirs.

The San Diego-based pop- and roots-reggae band was comfortably ensconced in a rented (and quite modest) three-bedroom oceanfront home near Waimea Bay all last week, recording a CD of mostly R&B cover tunes from the '50s through the '80s, when I stopped by. The laid-back, all-day sessions (give or take the occasional break for Guinness shakes, snacks or herbal relief) preceded a quartet of Big Mountain concerts this week on O'ahu, Kaua'i and the Big Island in support of the band's already completed CD of original work "New Day."

"Fiji was out here last night," says Quino, earlier in the day, apologizing for the organized mess of suitcases, CDs, clothing and empty equipment cases covering the home's scuffed hardwood living room floor. The kitchen counters are a mess of empty water bottles, tortilla chips, ginger, cherry tomatoes, a bowl of curry and a pineapple, all of which Quino's brother James is cleaning up. "When he's here, he's got this whole big entourage, so you know it's happening."

A longtime friend of the band, Fiji left behind some sweet background vocals for a Big Mountain cover of Stevie Wonder's "A Place In The Sun." The singer also left behind enough unopened Budweiser in the band's refrigerator to open up a stadium concession, and the men of Big Mountain, unfortunately, are not exactly connoisseurs of the King of Beers.

"Somebody has got to get some better beer," says Paul, upon noticing a frightening dearth of Guinness in the fridge.

Unmoved, Quino (pronounced "keno") pulls a couple of ice-cold Guinness cans before walking the short length of driveway to the ocean. Surf 25 to 30 feet high has been forecast for the afternoon, and Quino is eager to check it out.

A soothing, reggae-flavored instrumental arrangement of Earth, Wind & Fire's "Reasons" that Goofy and Paul have been working on since morning accompanies Quino's stroll, floating lazily on the salt-kissed breeze. Smiling broadly at the sight of waves already beginning to thunder on the rocky shoreline, he begins singing along.

"It doesn't require a lot of vibe," says Quino, matter-of-factly, about the cover CD. "There's a formula to it, and we just do the Big Mountain 'thing' to it. It's not the most fun thing to do in the world, but it's still fun."

The still-unnamed CD is mostly being done as a favor to the band's Japanese record label Pony Canyon, which is fronting the money for its Hawai'i and New York production. The recording's 12 tracks are being chosen half by Pony Canyon and half by Big Mountain. The result has so far been a strange brew of often loosely connected covers that hasn't exactly left Quino completely enthralled by the project.

"There's a little bit of compromising going on between us and the label," admits Quino, scratching his curly head of tousled hair and staring off at the surf. "For the most part, they're all cool songs ... songs that we've enjoyed." With a few bizarre exceptions.

"Reasons" and "A Place In The Sun" were a couple of Pony Canyon choices that met mostly with approval by the boys. But the label's odd insistence on including a cover of Debarge's schlocky mid-'80s love jam "Who's Holding Donna Now?" was another story altogether.

"Yeah, that was a painful one," says Quino, promising the cover will never see the light of day should Big Mountain decide to release the CD in America. "It's funny, too, because we had a copy of their CD from the '80s ... and, man, those boys look freaky." He bursts out laughing.

With the band's approval, Quino hopes to add covers of tunes by some of his favorite songwriters such as Smokey Robinson, Brenton Wood and influential reggae composer Bob Andy to make the mix interesting. What the fiercely intelligent and literate singer/songwriter would really rather be recording, however, is material he's written over the last year for a quasi-concept album brimming with social and political subjects close to him.

"It's going to be a real political album," says Quino. "It's one of those records that I couldn't get everybody to endorse because it gets down to some of my core beliefs. The album would deal with a lot of the dynamics that have affected me growing up."

These would include topics of identity, being Chicano and of mixed heritage, his Rastafarian beliefs and his lack of gung-ho American patriotism. Given the opportunity, Quino could probably discuss and debate these passionately all day. And he spends a good portion of the afternoon on the shoreline doing just that, listening patiently as often as he talks.

Quino's interest in recording riskier and decidedly noncommercial roots-reggae material — instead of more of the bouncy pop-reggae promised by the band's 1994 hit remake of Peter Frampton's "Baby I Love Your Way" — eventually got the band dropped from Warner Bros. subsidiary Giant records in 1998. Big Mountain has released all of its recordings since on its own Rebel Ink label (outside of Japan).

"I can't put my life in the hands of a bunch of morons anymore. I've got people to feed. We've all got kids," says Quino, looking back at the house. "In order to keep this thing going, I'd like to keep the beautiful vibes you saw in there."

And while Quino admits that Big Mountain is making far less money than it probably would with a major label acting as puppet master, "at least we have the satisfaction of knowing that these records will be ours forever. They'll belong to our children.

"But more than that, it's just fun again. It's fun being in control of our music."

It's late afternoon, and everyone in the house is moving to his own beat.

Quino lights a Marlboro and steps out on to the deck to watch the surf pound the shoreline and yell at a handful of wave watchers standing foolishly on the rocks with video cameras. Goofy and Paul continue to noodle with "Reasons," communicating loudly with a blend of English and Jamaican patois only they seem to understand. Trumpeter/vocalist Kevin Batchelor is in a back bedroom watching afternoon TV. James emerges from the kitchen with some freshly made pico de gallo, tortilla chips and a beer.

"It's my grandma's recipe, man," says James, scooping up a chip full of fresh tomatoes, onions and cilantro, and forking it into his mouth. "I hope you like hot stuff." Quino soon comes back in to stuff his face as well. The pico de gallo disappears quickly.

On dinner detail again tonight — raves were still going around for his curry from the previous night — James tells everyone to get their orders for whatever in before he heads out for groceries and more Guinness. On tonight's menu: pasta and a tangy homemade veggie sauce.

"This is the way to do it ... you've got to get everybody in ... living together and doing their thing together. That's the way we get stuff done," says Quino, surveying the activity. In five days, the close-knit band has yet to leave the beach house to eat out or party in town. "By eight in the morning, we're already working. And basically, we'll work until around midnight, so we're talking 14- and 16-hour days ... powering it out."

Before James can escape, Paul and Goofy ask him to lend some test vocals to their full day of work to see if it's on track. James lays a passionate attempt at a Philip Bailey falsetto over the duo's keyboard and beat work, while Quino bolts from the couch to match his rough tenor to his brother's higher register. Paul rises from his drum machine and gets into the rhythm as well, doing a slow groove and waving his arms.

"Yeahhhh, mon!" says Paul, enthusiastically.

Before long, the entire band (save for Batchelor, in the bedroom, one guesses, with "Judge Judy") is deep into the chorus of "Reasons," singing and vibing off each other. If Quino really isn't all that thrilled about doing a CD full of covers, it's difficult to tell right now.

"It's a little bit of a hassle sometimes, but I believe in our music," says Quino later. "It's so important to me that we get represented correctly, that the right messages get out there, and that people know how meticulous we are.

"We believe so much in what we do and what we still want to accomplish. And we know it's going to take hard work."