thedrifter
07-08-05, 11:04 AM
Former Marines rock together in Absynth
July 08,2005
COREY FRIEDMAN
FREEDOM ENC
When Jon Sprinkle's commanding officers put the young Marine on barracks restriction three years ago, they didn't know they were helping him start a band.
To prevent the onset of boredom, Sprinkle brought his drum set to the barracks lounge and began making music. Ben Lewis and Kyle Johnson, both fellow Marines stationed at Cherry Point, added shredding guitar riffs, and the band now known as Absynth began to take shape.
"He was kinda confined, so we set a drum set up in the lounge to start out with," said Lewis, the lead vocalist. "We got some people coming around and watching."
After their discharge from the Marines, the bandmates decided to stay in eastern North Carolina and devote their spare time to performing. Absynth added bassist Jason Nelson, Johnson's cousin, to the lineup and gradually developed a core fan base.
"We feed off the crowd," Johnson said. "If the crowd's all up in your face and screaming, it pumps you up."
For Lewis, the right crowd can erase the exhaustion wrought by a 50-hour work week and relieve the strain of a financial crunch. Performing to a responsive audience is the ultimate therapy.
"The people who come out, you can watch the energy wash over their faces," he said. "That's what makes it worth it - that minute when nothing else really bothers you. You forget about your hang-ups. They listen."
Drawing inspiration from established rock innovators like Stevie Ray Vaughan and newcomers such as Chevelle and Incubus, Absynth generates a distinct sound that achieves both relevance and a sense of heritage.
Infectious choruses leap from steady beats and pealing bass licks, and Lewis' honeyed bellow manages to be pleading and aloof at all the right places. Absynth's intuitive harmonies are the result of practice and natural talent - not one of the four bandmates can read music, save for guitar tablature.
Johnson said the people who support Absynth realize that its members are so devoted to their music that they forego working-class luxuries in order to continue jamming.
"We all have full-time jobs and we're a full-time band," he said. "This doesn't pay enough to survive. We don't get hardly any personal money out of the band at all, unless we're real, real broke and we need some Ramen noodles or something."
But Johnson, the guitarist, hopes that will change someday.
Maybe Absynth's first studio album, which the band is currently recording, will be the catalyst. In any case, Johnson doesn't pin his hopes on rock stardom. He just wants to make enough through music to pay the bills.
"Our dream is to play music for a living - not even to be really rich and famous, but just to live comfortably and play music," he said.
But Lewis said the band's blue collar roots influence its music, which strikes audiences as genuine and homegrown.
"We can communicate with people around here," he said. "People work their asses off every day. We're just blue collar people, just normal, everyday eastern North Carolina residents."
Ellie
July 08,2005
COREY FRIEDMAN
FREEDOM ENC
When Jon Sprinkle's commanding officers put the young Marine on barracks restriction three years ago, they didn't know they were helping him start a band.
To prevent the onset of boredom, Sprinkle brought his drum set to the barracks lounge and began making music. Ben Lewis and Kyle Johnson, both fellow Marines stationed at Cherry Point, added shredding guitar riffs, and the band now known as Absynth began to take shape.
"He was kinda confined, so we set a drum set up in the lounge to start out with," said Lewis, the lead vocalist. "We got some people coming around and watching."
After their discharge from the Marines, the bandmates decided to stay in eastern North Carolina and devote their spare time to performing. Absynth added bassist Jason Nelson, Johnson's cousin, to the lineup and gradually developed a core fan base.
"We feed off the crowd," Johnson said. "If the crowd's all up in your face and screaming, it pumps you up."
For Lewis, the right crowd can erase the exhaustion wrought by a 50-hour work week and relieve the strain of a financial crunch. Performing to a responsive audience is the ultimate therapy.
"The people who come out, you can watch the energy wash over their faces," he said. "That's what makes it worth it - that minute when nothing else really bothers you. You forget about your hang-ups. They listen."
Drawing inspiration from established rock innovators like Stevie Ray Vaughan and newcomers such as Chevelle and Incubus, Absynth generates a distinct sound that achieves both relevance and a sense of heritage.
Infectious choruses leap from steady beats and pealing bass licks, and Lewis' honeyed bellow manages to be pleading and aloof at all the right places. Absynth's intuitive harmonies are the result of practice and natural talent - not one of the four bandmates can read music, save for guitar tablature.
Johnson said the people who support Absynth realize that its members are so devoted to their music that they forego working-class luxuries in order to continue jamming.
"We all have full-time jobs and we're a full-time band," he said. "This doesn't pay enough to survive. We don't get hardly any personal money out of the band at all, unless we're real, real broke and we need some Ramen noodles or something."
But Johnson, the guitarist, hopes that will change someday.
Maybe Absynth's first studio album, which the band is currently recording, will be the catalyst. In any case, Johnson doesn't pin his hopes on rock stardom. He just wants to make enough through music to pay the bills.
"Our dream is to play music for a living - not even to be really rich and famous, but just to live comfortably and play music," he said.
But Lewis said the band's blue collar roots influence its music, which strikes audiences as genuine and homegrown.
"We can communicate with people around here," he said. "People work their asses off every day. We're just blue collar people, just normal, everyday eastern North Carolina residents."
Ellie