KATRINA AND THE WAVES: SONGS FOR THE COMMON MAN (AND WOMAN)

KATRINA AND THE WAVES: SONGS FOR IHE COMMON MAN (AND WOMAN)

FEATURES

by Roy Trakin

If it’s Tuesday, this must be... Universal City. You’ll have to forgive this peripatetic foursome if they’re a little disoriented. Plucked from the middle of an Australian tour, Katrina & The Waves have been flown into an uncharacteristically gray California for a full slate of activities. The night before, they played the Tonight Show, today, they’re ensconced in two hotel rooms doing the requisite spate of interviews for the brand-new elpee, Waves, the follow-up to last year’s self-titled debut, with its hit single, “Walking On Sunshine.”

“The first number was brilliant,” says singer Katrina Leskanich of the group’s performance on the Carson Show, “but the last number was...” She emits what is charitably described as a Bronx cheer. “We did ‘Walking On Sunshine,’ with Doc’s horns providing the fills.”

Playing Carson is only one example of this multinational outfit’s mixed signals. While most punters know them as the sprightly poppers who essayed the cheery “Sunshine” into a Top 10 hit, there are other sides to Katrina & The Waves, as they prove on the first single from the new album, the R&Bflavored “Is That It?” Even the band seems confused as to the record company’s strategy.

“We’re supposed to be one of Johnny’s favorite bands,” insists Katrina. “He’s a big fan of ‘Walking On Sunshine.’ The audience went crazy. You know how Johnny always takes his pencil and starts twirling it around? When we finished, he just sat there, threw the pencil up in the air, tried to catch it, but it bounced off his fingertips. Then he went, ‘Whooo!,’ and cut for a commercial. And the crowd clapped right through the break.”

If the band’s image seems a little blurred beyond the bouncy figure of 25-year-old Kansas-born Katrina Leskanich, consider its tangled roots. Graying drummer Alex Cooper is an upper-class Britisher who could just as easily “be working for the City of London and making a quarter of a million bucks a year.” Guitarist/songwriter Kimberley Rew (“Walking On Sunshine,” “Going Down To Liverpool”) is a shy, former Cambridge University student of archaeology who once played with Robyn Hitchcock in the psychedelic cult band, the Soft Boys. Bass guitarist Vince de la Cruz is a military brat, like Katrina, who grew up in Okinawa listening to Armed Forces Radio, then segued to an English air force base, where his MexicanAmerican father taught Spanish to the military. It’s no wonder you can’t draw a bead on this gal and three guys.

“We get a funny mixture of people at our shows,” admits the erudite Alex in a clipped English accent. “The first 20 rows are young kids, most of them girls, while, in the back, you have older fans, ranging up to 45.”

The identity confusion hasn’t been helped by the record company, according to Katrina, which insisted the band follow up the single “Walking On Sunshine” with “Do You Want Crying,” from the first album.

“I think it was just too strong for people,” explains Leskanich. “It was a shock to the system to go from ‘Walking On Sunshine’ to crying your eyeballs out. This time, we went with ‘Is That It?,’ which I think is closer to what we really sound like.”

“To be honest, ‘Walking On Sunshine’ was just one song among many for us,” sniffs Alex. “It was nothing special.”

Even the song’s composer, Kimberley Rew, agrees with that. “Up until the time it was a hit, it was just another song.”

Certainly, though, there’s pressure to recreate that success.

“We don’t honestly feel any ourselves,” insists Alex. “This time, we just went in and made an album of songs we thought fit well together. Obviously, it’s always in the back of our minds...have we created a song that will receive the massive amount of airplay that ‘Sunshine’ did?”

Ironically, Rew, who penned the band’s new single, “Is That It?,” has only one other song to his credit on the LP, while Katrina, who had none first time around, chips in now with five.

“I’m making up for lost time,” says Katrina.

“It means nothing,” claims Alex, the only non-writing member of the group. “It’s just as likely the next album will have 10 songs by me. As soon as someone writes a song, it becomes the property of the band, and then we choose the best stuff for the album.”

“It’s whomever comes up with the goods,” suggests Katrina.

And Kim’s reaction to having but two songs on Waves?

“I’ve thought about that, obviously,” says the soft-spoken tunesmith, his lips curling in a shy smile. “Since we have three writers in the band, we had a lot of songs to choose from. We threw out a lot of tunes because they didn’t sound right. And we were left with 10 numbers. It’s as simple as that. I don’t usually persevere with things that the others in the band don’t like. We’ve got to be able to play it, plus it’s got to fit Katrina’s personality. If. you write a song, and it’s not played, it’s as if you haven’t written a song.”

So, if you’re looking for dissension among these popsters, forget it. But they’re not exactly one big happy family, either. More like a marriage of convenience.

“I think we have sort of a professional friendship,” says Katrina, who emphatically denies she’s ever been romantically involved with any of her mates. “We’re not really too palsywalsy. The English guys tend to be a bit more reserved, they’re not as affectionate as American men. Vince and I are Americans, but we’ve lived in England for such a long time we can understand them. We’ve kind of adopted the same attitude. It keeps you respecting the others.”

Alex insists any romantic entanglement with Katrina and someone in the group would destroy it. “There was a guy who was originally involved with us in ’79 who fell in love with Katrina, but she wasn’t interested, so he was gone,” he recalls.

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“He couldn’t get it together,” adds Katrina, “He’d be crying onstage and I couldn’t change my socks without him looking over, so he had to go. This is a business, a job, to all of us. We want something and we’re not gonna allow any other member to screw it up for us. Which is why I have just the one beer I’m allowed per day. And get to bed early.”

As for the adulation that comes with rock stardom, Katrina maintains she hasn’t changed. “In the beginning, the record company probably would have preferred I did my hair differently, put on more make-up or wear leather skirts with thigh-high boots,” she laughs. “But I stuck with my tennis shoes and they keep my feet firmly on the ground. I just think it’s encouraging that I’m getting better-looking as I get older.”

Indeed, Katrina has added a touch of •cosmetics to her high cheek-bones, enhancing her natural good looks. She’s just purchased a new pair of Converse All-Stars, preferring them over the more trendy (and expensive) designer brands. She hasn’t yet been approached for a sneaker endorsement, but I can see it now: Air-Katrinas. Larry Bird and Katrina. Magic and Katrina.

“I prefer cheap ones,” she says. “If I showed up in Reeboks, I think people would be disappointed. I’m affordable.”

The singer has even spotted Katrina-lookalikes showing up at concerts.

“I’ve seen quite a few,” she says. “They have jean jackets with the sleeves rolled up, a similar sort of hair style—appalling—and tennis shoes, of course. And they’re usually fat. Great.”

As for the male fans, “a lot of them are geeks with glasses and greasy hair,” she laments. “The kind that come up and tell you they had ‘Walking On Sunshine’ played at their birthday party.”

Like another fellow Midwesterner, former Nebraska Senator Roman Hruska, who once defended his yes vote on one of Richard Nixon’s less-than-qualifed Supreme Court appointees by saying that mediocre people needed representation too, Katrina defends her band’s less-than-hip following.

“Most of our audience are jeans-wearers and beer-drinkers,” she says. “Ugly people need a band they can relate to, also. But don’t put that in CREEM!”

Too late.

“I like to have stuff I’m proud to send home to my folks,” says Katrina. “It upsets them to read bad stuff about their daughter. But I love CREEM. I wouldn’t mind if you carved us up. I’ve got a stack of ancient, yellowed issues piled up to there at home.

I love the captions and I worship Boy Howdy. Who comes up with those captions, anyway? I’ll never forget the one on a picture of Chaka Khan wearing a flimsy dress: ‘Chop up those nasty curtains and slap ’em on yer mammaries!’ I do notice there’s a lot more pictures these days, and not enough captions!”

Your move, Ed. E