The Presidents Of The United States Of America: Movin’ to the country

“I remember going on my honeymoon in September of ’95, and turning on MTV and seeing the Top 10, and we were number four, between Janet Jackson and Madonna. It was so incongruous.”

Vocalist Chris Ballew is discussing the rapid rise his pop band The Presidents Of The United States Of America enjoyed in the mid-’90s, off the back of a string of novelty singles, and an eponymous debut record. Part Nashville twang, part Seattle diet-grunge, the record spawned four hit singles and a ‘Weird Al’ parody, quickly shifting three million units. The album was initially released on the small Seattle indie label PopLlama, but by the time the record hit stores, the band were already being courted by every major in the country.

“It was pre-ordained that we were going to re-release the record [through a major],” says drummer Jason Finn. “Things were moving so fast for us back then. In the three months between us agreeing [to release] with PopLlama, and it coming out, it was already like, ‘OK, we’re at South By Southwest and everybody is trying to sign us. Something else is going to happen.’”

Not surprisingly, the relaxed recording atmosphere and relatively modest expectations resulted in the type of loose, playful record that, in hindsight, was always going to be a crossover hit. The grunge phenomenon was drawing to a close with the still-recent suicide of Kurt Cobain, and the chirpy, optimistic Brit-pop era was in full flight. The musical world was ready to take itself less seriously, and an album packed with hooky songs about scratching kitties, peaches, dune buggies and salamanders was just the ticket.

“Four of the songs we did in a thirteen-hour stretch at [Seattle shitkicker studio] The Laundry Room, as a little $350 demo package,” says Ballew. “I had a cold and we were like ‘Bah, do it in one day’… but four of those songs ended up on the record, so the spirit of it was there.”

“We would have felt differently if we’d recorded [the first album] for a major,” continues Finn. “The whole idea that there’s a guy sitting in the studio going, ‘Don’t do it like that’ – well, they stopped doing that in the ’60s. They’ll let you record; they may not put your record out, but they’ll let you record it. So having no expectations in that regard definitely helped with the attitude of the record.”

As soon as Columbia Records got involved, the creation of the second album (II) was clearly affected – although Ballew blames himself for acquiescing to label pressure to record a follow-up quickly. “The record we made under major label supervision kinda suffered a bit, not because of the major label, but because we were exhausted,” he admits. “We did get a line from the label: ‘You’ve got to capitalise, you gotta make another record now’, and our management said, ‘No, you gotta take a year off’ – and we went and made the other record. Then we retired, but that wasn’t the label’s fault, that was our fault; we should have listened to our manager.”

The inevitable burnout that befell the Presidents is a common tale, but one that still clearly niggles at the band. Ballew in particular still blames himself for the 1998 dissolution, claiming he was just inexperienced and unwilling to discuss his issues.

“It was a bad strategy,” he sighs. “We just needed to take a break, we didn’t need to break up. But breaking up was the quickest way out of our major label deal. I handled it poorly. I became burned out and freaked out, and rather than talking about it, and getting it out in bursts, I sat on it until I just quit. So, hey kids, talk about things.”

The band quietly reformed in 2000, recording a third record, Freaked Out And Small, while still remaining unofficially disbanded. The impetus to publicly reunite in 2003 actually came from an unlikely source.

“Krist Novoselic was actually the one who facilitated us,” says Ballew. “He asked us to back him up at an award show, in March of 2003. He asked us, and we sort of looked at each other and went, ‘Yeah, we could be The Presidents Of The United States Of America live on stage again…’”

The Presidents have remained active ever since, releasing two further albums, touring the world sporadically, and becoming a legacy band of sorts – remarkable for an act whose debut record opens with the lyrics “meow, meow, meow-meow meow-meow.” For the band, however, the moment their legacy was set in stone was when ‘Weird Al’ Yankovic parodied their first major label single Lump with the Forrest-referencing Gump. “For me, it felt like a cultural victory,” says Ballew, raising his arms in the air. “Just so flattering!”

“You gotta really be a jackass to not find the positive in that,” Finn adds.

“There are artists that have refused,” counters Ballew. “Al did thatAmish Paradise [a parody of Coolio’s über-serious single Gangsta’s Paradise] and one of Coolio’s entourage gave it the thumbs-up, but he wasn’t authorised to, and then it came out, and a video came out, and Coolio found out about it, and was livid. He hated it, and Al was very nervous for a little while there. I think he may have resolved that… once the cheques started coming in…”