They're boys, in a band — but it's NOT a boy band
By Jim Abbott
McClatchy-Tribune News Service
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ORLANDO, Fla. — It's hard enough being a rock band from Orlando, the world-renowned capital of teen pop and bubble gum.
When you also happen to be in elementary school, well, there can be image issues.
The kids in Orlando rock band HWY 535 — Parker Landis, 13; his brother Griffin Landis, 11; and friend Jullian Piccone, 11 — don't do choreographed dance moves. They are boys in a band, not a boy band.
They play their own instruments — Parker on guitar; Griffin on bass; Jullian on drums — and favor AC/DC and Motley Crue.
"We're hard arena rock, of course," says lead singer and guitarist Parker, with utter self-assurance. "It's almost family-friendly, but it's still rock 'n' roll."
Getting that idea across is a challenge, especially for guys who happen to be button-cute, not dangerous. On media events tied to the group's high-profile opening stint for the Cheetah Girls this fall, the uninitiated had some misconceptions:
There was the one radio interviewer who gushed that "these girls played great music!" Griffin rolls his eyes in exasperation.
"That's the worst!" he says. "I mean, come on!"
Fortunately, some important people are taking notice. In two years, the kids have gone from playing spaghetti dinners at a local elementary school to being represented by Wright Crear Management, the company run by 'N Sync manager Johnny Wright and Los Angeles agent Kenneth Crear.
In October, the band signed a deal with Interscope Records and will be traveling to Los Angeles to record in early January.
Crear, who helped the group snag the valuable Disney-connected Cheetah Girls slot, was impressed by the trio's musicianship.
"I saw something interesting, something different," Crear says. "They could play."
Amid the freshly scrubbed Hannah Montanas of the exploding teen music realm, the 535 guys and their rock star style have the potential for a niche, Crear says.
"They hit the Disney audience, but they aren't Disney," he says. "The parents out there, especially the dads, relate to the live performance of the music."
At the Cheetah Girls concert in October at Amway Arena, 535 was the only act to play instruments throughout. A reverence for arena rock was obvious, as the band tossed a bit of "Crazy Train" into one of its own songs.
Those performance skills began surfacing in first grade, when classmates Jullian and Griffin realized that they shared an interest in music. Parker was added to the mix and a pint-sized garage band was born.
Under the guiding influence of fathers with some garage-band experience, the boys began learning songs. A take on "Mony Mony" — the kids were familiar with the Billy Idol version — was the first song to click.
"We listened to that song a hundred times," Parker says. "We thought, 'It's easy because it only has three chords.' "
Other songs followed, and burned copies of an informal five-song EP became a popular item at school. The spaghetti dinner triumph led to bigger gigs and, eventually, the Cheetah Girls.
There were bumps, as the youngsters moved into the adult-sized rock world. The kids weren't tall enough to reach the switches on their Marshall amplifier stacks.
And for Griffin, who stands about 4 feet, 5 inches tall, it was hard to prowl the stage like a rock star with a full-sized bass that's taller than he was.
The solution: Dean Guitars, with whom the kids have a sponsorship deal, developed custom-made 3/4-size models. Griffin's peppermint-striped bass is hollow to make it lighter.
The kids write their own songs, with help from those musical dads, John Piccone and Matt Landis. The ideas come from everyday situations, they say.
There's "Hey Girl!" about "a girl that gets on your nerves and won't leave you alone," Jullian says.
Or "Up All Night," about, well, staying up all night. "Turn It Up," Jullian explains, is about "turning up the radio when you hear us!"
Despite the beckoning show business lifestyle and the transition into home-schooling, the boys are still kids, says John Piccone.
"They can play a show for thousands of screaming girls, sign autographs for hours, but then it's 'Can we go home and go swimming now?' They are still boys who like to do that kind of stuff."
Of course, it's hard not to be excited about traveling in a custom bus with a flat-screen TV, or ordering room service, or meeting the Jonas Brothers or Tommy Lee.
Or those screaming girls.
"There was free catering, which was the bomb!" Parker says of the Cheetah Girls tour. "Then we'd do sound check and play to 8,000 people. What's better than that?"