West Indian Girl: Catch the Wave of New Media

By Susan Brooks

Photo by Lucy Hamblin

“We’re not a band that’s short of ideas.” That’s a positive summation of Los Angeles rock band West Indian Girl, courtesy of its bassist and business mastermind, Frances Ten. With an indefinably modern sound and sound instincts regarding the indispensability of smart new media placement to a working band’s survival, West Indian Girl has taken an inventive approach on both the creative and business fronts.

West Indian Girl was founded by Ten (bass) and Robert James (guitar and vocals), dear friends since meeting in Detroit in the early ‘90s who ended up in L.A. to chase their musical dreams. They created the mental image of what they wanted West Indian Girl to be and set about making it a reality — a straightforward approach that has yielded fortuitous results ever since. Female co-vocalist Mariqueen Maandig, originally from the Philippines and raised in Southern California, met Ten at Hollywood club Cinespace. After seeing Ten and James play live with a temporary co-vocalist, she approached the duo with a flat-out declaration: “You need me.” A few days later, she met them at the studio and started singing. Her voice and James’ fit beautifully together, weaving in and out mellifluously around abstract lyrics James calls “trance-induced.” Together they recorded West Indian Girl’s self-titled debut, released on the electronica-oriented Astralwerks in August of 2004. As the band’s style evolved away from its original more electronic focus, West Indian girl moved to Milan Records for the release of their sophomore album 4th & Wall in October. Named after the location of the band’s downtown L.A. studio, their latest effort is an intriguing collection with a wide array of influences and a polish that reflects the additions of Mark Lewis (drums and backup vocals), Nathan Van Hala (keyboards) and Amy White (keyboards and backup vocals) to the band.

In a challenging marketplace and with six full-fledged members to consider on the business side, the band realized the need to aggressively seek innovative means of distribution and income generation. For their new record, they partnered with Flycell, a mobile media company that was happy to have access to their music for ringtones, games and other places no one would have guessed about five years ago. Once that deal was locked down, both parties approached Milan Records, a label that has been around for three decades and positions itself as being “at the very intersection of movies and music.” Milan handles a lot of licensing for films, and it was a good fit for West Indian Girl’s cinematic sound. Ten says, “It’s sort of like a three-pronged deal. It’s kind of groundbreaking; it’s not been done in the industry. It was put together by myself and my manager — she brought the mobile company, then we approached the record label. Milan is credible, they’re not going anywhere, their distribution is solid, through Ryko/Warner. Of the few remaining outlets, Ryko will be able to get the album in there. We’re license-friendly, our music lends itself to film.”

Indeed it does. 4th & Wall starts West Indian Girl’s relationship with their new label off on a good note. The song “Sofia” features poetic lyrics like an invocation of the feminine goddess of wisdom and a soprano vocal break that’s a melodic variation of Pachelbel’s Canon. Switching gears, “Blue Wave” is a modern take on the classic surf song with a sunny backdrop of guitar and Hammond organ. The beach theme continues with “Indian Ocean,” whose ambience is like an aural picture of waves rolling in at twilight. Most of the record is similarly mellow, but the pace changes dramatically almost dead center: “Solar Eyes” is fast and electronic with a fantastic drum break. The album ends with two interesting tracks whose titles connect in an elegant closing motif. “Rise from the Dead” is the most intense-sounding song with darker lyrics, whereas the final song, “Get Up,” fades in with a ‘70s production vibe and refers back stylistically to “Blue Wave” via a California Beach Boys sound.
Ten recognizes the risk in working with a company that deals primarily with soundtracks, but some might deem making a cellular content company a primary partner rather than taking the time-honored route of signing first with a record label the greater risk here. (In essence, West Indian Girl is licensing their content from Flycell to Milan for North American distribution.) About this, Ten says, “There are a billion fish in the licensing pond. The traditional deal is gone. Major labels — I don’t even know why you’d want to do that right now. It’s tough for bands now, not making money on CD sales. The world is shifting. Cell phone usage in China alone is going nuts. Not being in that sort of business is a mistake.”

Excited about making further innovative moves regarding distribution in foreign markets, the band plans to sign several deals with similar smaller companies that will hopefully yield better terms than one blanket deal that requires signing over more of rights to profits and creative control. Ten concludes, “We all work day jobs, too. I don’t want to blow the mystique, but you can go sign autographs but, at the same time, not even be able to buy your own album. It’s a catch-22 as a baby band. We can’t make a lot of money on touring as a developing band. With six people we have to make a lot of money to take care of everyone.”

Pioneers to the last, West Indian Girl have hopefully found the perfect wave of synergy that balances their creative needs and their business goals via this forward-thinking arrangement. If a final example of self-actualization from their recent past is any indication, it should work wonders for them: the band had an opportunity to borrow an R.V. from a filmmaker friend for touring and thought that converting it to run on vegetable oil would be a great way to stretch their resources. When they found that the mechanical work involved was prohibitively expensive, the R.V.’s owner suggested that they get a sponsor to finance the conversion, which they then proceeded to do. Ten says that consequently on an 8,000 mile trip they spent $400 total on diesel fuel for those times when they could not obtain free grease from fast food restaurants. The deal was a winner for everyone involved — the band saved money and helped the environment, the sponsor got publicity in exchange for their donation of services, and the filmmaker was returned an improved vehicle as a thank you for his generosity. That experience sums up the band’s novel approach neatly; in Ten’s words: “If you have a goal, you can give yourself an opportunity to make it happen. Think about it, come up with a plan, and just make it happen.”

www.westindiangirl.com