September 23-29, 2004

music

The Tide Is High

Silvertide finally plays Show & Tell.

by A.D. Amorosi

Skinnier than Victoria Secret Angels with the swaggering silver kerrang of AC/DC and the chugging, harmony-laden gloss of Van Halen, Philadelphia's Silvertide has in its DNA all that rawk requires. For a band that opened for Aerosmith within six months of its start in 2001, had cash-tossing record-execs tripping over themselves soon after, and gigged with Velvet Revolver and Kid Rock, you'd expect unfathomable debauches from the currently touring quintet, here on the eve of their debut, Show and Tell, coming out on the J label.

Where is lead guitarist Nick Perri, a 20-year-old whose six-strings misty mountain hop at will, whose passionate crunching power chords are only rivaled by a majestic sense of melody?

"Sitting in back of the tour bus, being responsible, taking care of my body and not drinking," says Perri from Tampa while his crew takes on another all-nighter. "Yes, the sign of a true alcoholic—I'm bummed out about staying in. Everyone else is in the club, partying, and I'm in my pajamas." When Perri isn't on the road, the Bensalem native lives at home, on his parents' couch.

Though recovering from a particularly busy night out, Silvertide's bravura-belting vocalist Walt Lafty sounds jovial and upbeat. "We got pretty fucking drunk," says the 23-year-old. "We've been working hard playing shows, doing photos shoots and stuff. When you can, you go a little overboard to make up for it."

Silvertide is not stupid. They're not gonna screw up the hard work that won over not only Clive Davis, the J label exec who signed them ("Clive came down to Philadelphia—twice!—into the seamiest, dirtiest clubs and showed his true interest," says Perri) but the fans they believe were looking for music that celebrated good teen times.

"Who wants to go pay 40 or 50 dollars to see bands stare at their shoes then whine about their problems?" asks Lafty. "We've had the shitty gigs—two guys at the bar yelling, "play "Freebird.''' We may have had it rough growing up. I don't have any money. My bills are late. Doesn't mean we have to write songs about it. If we do, we'll mask it and you'll think it's about sex. If you wanna cry, go listen to Staind. If you want to have fun, listen to Silvertide."

The five Northeast Philadelphians came together musically in January 2001, after having met through high school and acoustic coffeehouse klatches. Through the auspices of lawyer (now manager) Brad Rubens, not only did they get a buzz-binning weekly residency at Abilene that resembled a sex-and-sweat filled rock 'n' roll revival, they won that slot opening for Aerosmith.

"After that show it was like opening the damn gates," says Perri. "From then on, you couldn't even get in the door. And the coolest thing was that when record companies started to come and check us out, there were so many people they'd get turned away."

But one high-profile gig doesn't necessarily create an audience. Silvertide worked hard, writing gut-spewing metal in the vain of their heroes, but with sugar-sprinkled melodies and conviction.

"Bring it on. We're gonna go out every night and kick your ass on stage because that's our job," says Perri.

"We've requested to tour more than bands who've had albums out for five years. And we've done it with no record. Try talking your average record company into that one," says Lafty.

The raging contagion of Show and Tell—the bad-ass sex-shake of "Devil's Daughter," the electric warrior chant of "Ain't Comin' Home," the angry, awkward takes on addiction and politics ("To See Where I Hide," "Foxhole J.C.")—is the payoff of that grueling schedule.

Written over two years, these tracks summarize the energy of this band in short, sharp bursts. Making Show was "the most fucking crazy experience" of highs and lows in Perri's short life so far. Lafty puts it in true rock 'n' roll respective: "Any song you can have sex to is a damn good one. Fucking A."

Silvertide plays its CD release party, Tue., Sept. 28, 6 p.m., $10, Trocadero, 1003 Arch St., 215-922-LIVE