Section: The Rep
Edition: Final Chaser
Page: 32

CORR-PHD IN MUSICAL SUCCESS VALLEY BAND PLOTS STUDIED COURSE TO TOP
Kerry Lengel, The Arizona Republic

ISix months ago, only a handful of people had heard of PHD. Before this year is out, the Valley group could be a star on MTV.

Playing '90s heavy metal alloyed with industrial rock and hip-hop, PHD (the initials stand for Pleasure Heavy Device) has been together less than a year, but it's already on the verge of signing a national recording contract. The band's rapid rise is a story not just about music, but about the business of music.

In late December, PHD's demo song, Why, was the top request on ''Party Radio'' KPTY-FM (103.9), a huge coup for an unsigned band. However, although metal fans and industry cognoscenti in the Valley know the group, it has received virtually no press and has no interest in becoming a mainstay on the club scene.

''It's always a good thing to create a buzz in your local market, but being perceived as a bar band can be detrimental,'' manager Willobee Carlan says. ''Record companies want to see action, they want to see heat, and it's sort of like a Catch-22: How do you create that buzz without being perceived as a bar band? The way to avoid that is doing shows that are more events than just gigs.''

PHD played few concerts in 1999 but made each one count. Most were opening slots for national acts such as Goldfinger, Static-X and Kottonmouth Kings, and the capper was a spot on the Party Radio stage at Tempe's Fiesta Bowl Block Party on New Year's Eve.

Credit for this strategy doesn't go strictly to Carlan, who added the band to his roster (which also includes Phunk Junkeez and Sipping Soma) only a few months ago. Guided by vocalist Kevin Armstrong, the group has taken a professional approach from the beginning, and its short history is a case study in how to succeed in the music business -- even though PHD's success is still by no means guaranteed.

Desire is the first ingredient.

''I've wanted to be in the spotlight since I was 4 years old,'' says Armstrong, who at age 27 is the oldest member of the quartet. ''I used to have rock concerts in my bedroom, and my mom would be the only one that would come to them. I pretended like I was Elton John.''

The desire that drives PHD is not simply a need for self-expression. Members talk about music as an emotional release, but it's clear they're not creating art for art's sake.

''We don't want to be a garage band,'' drummer Eddie Quintana says. ''If we're gonna go for it, we're going to go for it as big as we can.''

In everything it does, PHD aims to set itself apart from the pack. At those rare live performances, Armstrong and cohorts make sure the band comes off as a headliner, with top-flight sound and lighting. They play on professional instruments and recorded their six-song demo at the Valley's best studio, Mind's Eye Digital in Mesa.

All of this is aimed at landing a record deal with a national label.

''The climate in the music industry has changed over the years,'' Carlan says. ''It's not like it used to be, where A&R representatives would hear a demo and see a band and go, 'Wow, I want to spend the next three years developing that band.' They are now more looking for bands that have already done a lot of their groundwork for them, which is putting out a CD, getting the radio airplay, selling it retail. It's less of a gamble for them.

''One of the reasons I think PHD is going to succeed is because they're willing to do whatever it takes. They're not lazy, they work hard and they understand that it's not all fun and games.''

The band's hard work is paying off, with the success of Why on KPTY attracting the attention of record companies. Representatives of a number of labels, including the musical arm of Steven Spielberg's DreamWorks venture, have flown out to Phoenix to see performances, and the band was scheduled to play an industry showcase Wednesday in Los Angeles.

''They're definitely on the fast track,'' Carlan says.

Hard work, however, is only one part of the equation. The fast-track approach requires a significant investment of cash.

''It's expensive to be in a group if you approach it professionally,'' says Mind's Eye producer Larry Elyea, who recorded PHD's demo and plays guitar in the rap-metal group Sonic Jive. ''If you're a drummer, geez, you're talking five, six grand in equipment. And then you're talking band pictures, T-shirts, recording, CDs, promotion, making press kits, a video if you're that far into it . . .''

The guys in PHD don't really want to talk about money. Armstrong says that an investor helped pay for their $3,000 demo and that they have received ''help,'' such as discounts on equipment rental, from various benefactors. He also says he and other members make a good living at their day jobs but make numerous personal sacrifices for the sake of the band.

''We fight hard to get what we get,'' Armstrong says. ''Unfortunately, it does take money to get what you want in this business.''

''I haven't had a running car for five months because I sink money into this project,'' Quintana says.

Wherever the money comes from, a peek at one of PHD's practice sessions shows that the project is certainly well financed. The band's home in Phoenix is a private club on North Central Avenue called the Base, which Armstrong created with concert promoter Tyree Michael Carter of TMC Presents.

The Base serves as practice space for PHD and two other Valley groups, Know Qwestion and Neb's Dream. It also is a performance venue for private parties, where PHD has played host to radio executives and other industry insiders. It's small and has an intimate, exclusive atmosphere, with comfy couches and a barroom the size of a walk-in closet.

Armstrong talks about the band's past and future while eating a sushi dinner from Zen 32 in the bar. Then he joins Quintana, guitarist Brian Smythe, bassist Jay Maynard and turntablist Tim Rasta, the group's unofficial fifth member, in the main room. The place is packed with expensive musical equipment, and a strobe light creates a party atmosphere, as do the pretty young blondes hanging out on the sofa.

The band runs through a short but furious practice set. The sound is pretty straightforward: grinding guitar and pounding rhythms accented by Rasta's record scratches. Armstrong, giving the performance his all with his underwear showing above his low-hanging pants, delivers an angry, angsty vocal outburst that is clearly influenced by the rap-metal movement but is much more hard-core than hip-hop.

PHD is well-practiced and has a fully developed aural identity. The guys have talent, but their top-of-the-line equipment is clearly vital to their polished sound: The sonics at this practice session easily surpass nine out of 10 club shows in the Valley.

One purpose of the Base is networking, because connections are another requirement for success in the music biz, and Armstrong plays the game well. Although touting the band's ''humility,'' he's also a champion name dropper:

''We were at a party one night, and Fred Durst from Limp Bizkit and Carmen Electra were standing there, and Brett (Shire, a local concert promoter) put our CD in. . . . And I look over and Carmen Electra's dancing like a high school girl to it. It was awesome. There was a room full of people, so I felt a little bit like the man that night.''

Armstrong credits his friend Shire with introducing him to top performers in hard rock, including Maynard Keenan of Tool and Chino Moreno of the Deftones, but his career buying and selling music equipment doesn't hurt, nor does a seemingly natural ability to make the right friends.

Asked how he got to know Armstrong, Carlan asks, ''Who doesn't know him? I met him on the scene, basically. He was friendly with a lot of the musicians in town because of where he works. . . . He was kind of sticking to me like flypaper for a long time.''

PHD has done everything right, but the fact is it could still be passed over by record labels. All the money and all the connections in the world aren't enough without a little bit of luck.

''It's basically a crapshoot,'' says producer Elyea, even after a band makes all the right moves. But he figures PHD has already rolled sevens.

''They got radio play,'' he says. ''That was the luck. Not that they didn't deserve it, but it's very lucky that they had that opportunity.''

KPTY happened to give Why a spin after the song was placed on an industry compilation alongside new tracks by national artists such as Kid Rock and Moby.

The phones lit up.

''It was a total fluke,'' Armstrong says. ''Getting on the radio was pure (expletive) luck.''

Weeks later, the song had climbed to the top spot on the station's request list, beating out Korn, Kid Rock and Limp Bizkit. It was being played up to 50 times a week through the new year, when KPTY changed its format from alternative rock to teeny-bopper pop.

''I think they're going to do well,'' Party Radio program director Byron Kennedy says. ''They got the sound. I'm almost certain it's going to happen for them.

''That kind of reaction on the phones is serious, so I would go see 'em play while you can.''

KPTY's format change may have hurt the band's chances, because it interrupted Why's run as a radio hit. But this month ''The Edge'' (KEDJ-FM, 106.3) has picked up the tune, which is no small consolation.

If and when a deal is inked, Carlan says, then the real work begins:

''That's when you've got to start selling records.''