Will This Be The Year For Somebody's Daughter?
It's been a rough few weeks for the irresistibly named Somebody's Daughter. Three months ago, with well-received shows at Bumbershoot and the BMI Showcase under their belt, the Seattle five piece was planning to start work on its first full-length album, and looking toward 1992 with renewed confidence.
The confidence is still there - but the schedule's been pushed back a little. Bassist Diana Swisher quit the band in late October; since then Somebody's Daughter - singer-songwriter-guitarists Sheryl Wiser and Dustin Waln, drummer David Meyer and violinist Clayton Park - have, in Wiser's words, "been breaking in a new bass player."
Cory Van de Ven will be unveiled via a series of gigs this month; in the meantime, Wiser and Waln have gone back to their roots, playing as an acoustic duo.
"That's how we started out. The first Somebody's Daughter album, `Blind Date' (released in 1990) was basically just Dustin and myself. But slowly, the band began to grow."
The "Walking on Eggs" mini album, released in August on the band's own Bopgirl Productions label, introduced the new, full sound, and certainly made a mockery of the folkie tag "Blind Date" had earned them. Dismissing comparisons with everyone from Billy Bragg to Edie Brickell, "Walking on Eggs" was closer to havoc than the Hootenanny, with Waln and Park in particular getting down to some serious dueling on their chosen instruments.
The new recordings, Waln promises, will prove even more esoteric. Somebody's Daughter's influences range from Be Bop to The Byrds (the first band Waln ever saw, sneaking out on a school night to catch them); he's even talking of bringing chamber music into the brew.
"We want to record 20 songs as quickly as we can (they did `Walking on Eggs' in just 13 hours), then take the best 12."
That means building not only upon Somebody's Daughter's already-firm Seattle following, but also their growing national reputation. Without ever having played outside the Northwest, the band already is a known quantity far beyond these climes. Every year somebody's daughter makes it big; 1992 just might be the year of Somebody's Daughter.
Copyright (c) 1992 Seattle Times Company, All Rights Reserved.