By S. Corey Thomas
Photo by Justin Sonfield and Catrina Maxwell

If you are a musician, you have heard this: ‘A tour can make or break a band.’“ So begins an entry from Claire Campbell’s online journal, where a detailed chronicle of the travels and travails of Hope for Agoldensummer is posted for all to see. In a series of candid confessions, Claire blogs poetic about the turbulent life of a band on tour. Critical shows get cancelled. Navigational blunders turn day trips into timed trials. Fast food and strange beds begin to weigh heavy on the soul.

Since its inception in early 2003, the Athens- and Atlanta-based quintet has returned time and again to test its mettle on the road, covering territory from Oshkosh, WI to Montreal, Canada. And despite suffering through what Campbell describes as “two really bad tours in a row [that] broke us emotionally,” they are determined to give it another go.

That’s not to say that there weren’t consequences from the one-two punch of these ill-fated excursions. Most recently, Hope for Agoldensummer (who are alternately known by the cheeky acronym, HFAGS) took some much-needed time to themselves. “We just needed a break after that [to] work on different things, so that we didn’t get burned out,” stresses Campbell. “All of us really love the band, and nobody wanted to see it break up.”

Over the past year, the five musicians have occupied themselves in a variety of different activities and side projects: frontwoman Claire scored a film and spent time abroad, while sister and bandmate Page Campbell resumed her studies; drummer Jamie Shepard picked up a new job and a new band; Will Taylor, a classically-trained cellist, divided his time among several symphony orchestras; and guitarist Deb Davis fronted a group of her own. They continued to meet and rehearse in the meantime but took a hiatus from performing.
This time apart appears to have had the desired effect.

“I think we all had to, kind of like, go do some things and come back to it,” Page muses. “[We’re] growing back together, as far as our interest in the band and playing out.”

“We want to make another album,” insists Claire.

Their previous release, 2004’s I Bought a Heart Made of Art in the Deep, Deep South, was a career milestone for the young artists. It received glowing reviews from many southeastern publications, garnering the band significant local attention. Athens’ own Flagpole magazine pronounced it the “#1 Local Album of the Year.” And for a self-released, independently distributed debut, the title has done exceptionally well. (Taylor estimates they have moved about 3,500 copies since the initial pressing.)

Throughout its 12 tracks, A Heart Made of Art offers up a mélange of sparse and sparkling tunes made all the more absorbing by their uncommon instrumentation. Accordions and pennywhistles sidle up next to the quavering wail of a bow-buzzed singing saw. Hand and foot percussion keep time alongside Shepard’s jazz brush flams and booming bass kicks. What ultimately melds these happenstance melodies is the mooring hum of Taylor’s cello and the Campbell sisters’ gilded vocal harmonies.

The only real messiness arises in attempts to classify this unique music — a distinction the band is reluctant to make: “It’s all chance,” Taylor maintains.

Claire agrees: “I don’t think anything’s intentional. It’s actually kind of weird, because yeah — it just so happens that all five of us have come together, but we’re all coming from really different schools of music.” She laughs, then adds, “If any school.”

The genesis of Hope for Agoldensummer began in 2002 with the disbanding of Claire’s previous outfit, a duo with Atlanta rocker Bain Mattox dubbed Claire and Bain’s Maple Yum-Yum. Eager to start a new project, Claire absconded with Shepard from a hip-hop collective they were playing in. Davis (an old Josh Joplin Group alum) came on board next, followed by the illustrious Will Taylor who took over cello duties.

The missing dish in the smorgasbord was Claire’s kid sister and longtime choral companion, Page, who was coerced to abandon her art school career in Chicago through decidedly questionable tactics. “We threatened her with various tortures,” admits Claire, “and so she moved here and joined the band.”

Once united, Hope for Agoldensummer set to work crafting their distinctive repertoire and subsequent album. The members’ diverse backgrounds find a nexus in the patchwork of these colorful compositions. Yet the odd assortments of elements are hardly incidental; the band carefully chooses the instruments that will comprise each song, and takes pains to vary the accompaniment from track to track.

In preparing to start work on a follow-up release, the members of Hope for Agoldensummer took a lesson from their past experiences. “We narrowed our studio … and song selection down,” says Claire. “We had everything ready, and basically we rehearsed twice a week and recorded our rehearsals. We just tried to prepare so we didn’t waste as much money and time as we did on the Heart of Art album.” Work on the new album, which is being recorded with David Barbe at Athens’ famed Chase Park Transduction, should be completed early next month. “Most of it is going direct to two-inch tape,” says Claire. “Instead of mixing to one-inch or half-inch, we are going to dump the individual tracks into a computer and mix to Pro Tools to minimize tape hiss — something that makes me grit my teeth when I listen to our first studio album — on our quieter songs.” This process will give the band “the control to sit with those songs at home for a month and add new tracks or ambient sounds, bells, whistles.”

When asked what was the most challenging aspect of making the first record, the band has mixed opinions.
“Finding the time,” asserts Page.

“Yeah, that’s one,” Claire interjects. “For me the most challenging [aspect] was not, um, cracking under pressure as soon as the record button is hit. I can play something almost perfect every time, and then as soon as somebody says, ‘We’re rolling,’ it’s like Murphy’s Law kicks in and I can’t do it any more.”

Once a stalwart proponent of the DIY ethic, HFAGS performed all the roles of a label in securing studio time, publishing, printing, and managing the distribution of A Heart Made of Art. And so when it came time to arrange a tour, it was with this same spirit of independence that they began soliciting and scheduling shows. It is therefore particularly interesting that, when questioned about the possibility of a label for the second album, the band answers with a resounding: “Yes!”

“We really, really want to get on the road,” affirms Claire, “and it would be awesome to have tour support because — gas prices? It’s crazy, but they really do hinder you from touring at this time.”
Everyone agrees — both on the prohibitive cost of petroleum and on the itching desire to load up a van full of concertinas and xylophones and head out on another soul-baring road trip. But to truly appreciate the profound and deep-seated mania that is at work here, a couple of anecdotes deserve recounting.

For example: the now legendary expedition across a bleak, corn-strewn landscape known simply as “the Midwest,” with the promise of a show in Chicago goading them on. A scant three days in, their ephemeral Chicago gig suddenly nixed, the band finds itself serenading the post-buffet crowd at a Mongolian barbeque restaurant. Or consider the time a highly anticipated showcase in Montreal devolved into a performance in a horse stable followed by a harrowing night squatting in a French-Canadian meth den. As David Bowie once lamented: “This ain’t rock ‘n’ roll — this is genocide!”
But much like their approach to recording, the indefatigable members of HFAGS have revamped their idea of cross-country gigging. So with 20/20 hindsight, how might the group ensure a smooth and satisfying tour next time around?

Claire pauses, then answers: “We would just research more. We have somebody who is gonna hopefully be working with us as a booking agent, so that’ll be a big help. And then you just gotta bust your ass on promotions and get your shit out to the radio stations.”
“Just make sure that you know where you’re going and the people there know who you are — or at least have some idea,” suggests Page.

“Get booked at clubs, maybe?” Taylor quips. The band shares a laugh.

“The thing is, it’s always a learning experience,” Claire thoughtfully concludes. “Like making our last album: sometimes it did suck, at four in the morning, telling Will to redo his cello part for the 60th time. But then you learn from your mistakes, and you go in more clear the next time.”

It’s probably true that “a tour can make or break a band.” Yet perhaps there’s something more meaningful behind all this thankless touring. If so, a passage from Claire Campbell’s journal does a good job of summing it up: “Time on the road allows you to truly get in the minds of the people with whom you love to play music, or more plainly, with the people you love.”

www.hopeforagoldensummer.com