SUB LOCO DOES NOT PROMOTE ARSON

(A BAND BIO)

Take a ukulele. Stick it in a field. Cover it with gasoline or little plastic bottles of cheap rum (which ever you have handy). Find your matches. Now, light the rest of the field on fire while you clutch your gasoline soaked ukulele, strumming out a few chords into the magnificently treacherous waves of flame. Now sing. And when you sing, sing about beauty. Despite the engulfing heat that threatens to feast on the body you’ve come to identify as your own (and have honestly grown rather attached to), despite the fact that it was by your own short sighted reasoning that you’ve wound up playing a highly flammable uke in the middle of a burning field (you shouldn’t have listened to me in the first place), despite all this you can’t help but be moved by the grace of the dancing flames. You are hypnotized by the intricate feeding of fire, and feathers of smoke. You are moved by the beauty of reality objectively and disregard your fear for your own subjective story.

Sub Loco doesn’t exactly sound like a ukulele in the middle of a burning field, but it’s pretty close.

In the beginning, Sub Loco was more of a bonfire on the beach. Singer/ukulele strummer Birdie Manupule had strong opinions regarding beaches as she was born and raised in Honolulu. She knew little of bonfires until she moved to the rural, backwoods town of West Milford, New Jersey. There, drummer/singer Jordan Morrissey and bassist/guitarist Tyler McAllister indoctrinated her in the ways of fire pits. When rambling American folk/woodsy pop united with a laid back but deep sweeping undercurrent of island sound, Sub Loco was created.

Guitar-picker/ key-tickler Cody Clayton lived 800 miles away in Nashville when Sub Loco sent him their album in progress ‘All Waves Break’. Drawn like a nocturnal butterfly with identity issues to the musical flame, Clayton added his layer of paint to Sub Loco’s project and was welcome whole heartedly into the band.

Now finished with their first album and joined by a fourth songwriting member, Sub Loco embarks on a new musical frontier. With the addition of Clayton’s mournfully playful twang to Birdie’s silky, staccato melodies, the landscape of Sub Loco has changed. The sound is bigger than before, but no less as intimate or effective. It is ‘Island Americana’ or ‘Surf-Grass’ with a little 50’s-jukebox/40s-jazz/post-jawaiian undertone. As all members are avid writers and musicians, Sub Loco appreciates and incorporates all members’ individual sound and/or lyrics. As a result, they have been writing new music faster than they have albums to put it on.

This challenge excites Sub Loco. As the music changes, as the plot thickens, as each tuft of dry grass burns a little brighter before disappearing beneath a cloud of smoke, Sub Loco plays on. They may have lit the field on fire, but at least they’ve got those beautiful flames to keep warm.