The members of the Tacoma-based band, Enumclaw, considerthemselves a working-class group. They have slogged in minimum wage jobs,rehearsed in basem*nts and enjoyed their fair share of “tall boy”cans of beer belly-up at a dive bar. Of course, there’s nothing wrong with anyof this. But the band members also dream bigger. Part of their identity entailsa grind, a push for more, to make for higher ground when the time is right.
For inspiration, the group looks to the 90s U.K.chart-toppers, Oasis, which blossomed from its humble blue-collar beginnings.Today, the band is enjoying its own early successes, including the attentionfrom local outlets, KEXPand the SeattleTimes, and the national tastemaker music publication, Pitchfork.But Enumclaw’s most significant step forward will come on April 30 with therelease of the group’s five-song debut EP, JimboDemo, out on Tacoma’s Youth Riot Records.
“We’ve all had our share of hard times,” saysEnumclaw’s frontman, Aramis Johnson. “We’re striving to do somethingbigger than us and to make it out of Tacoma. I see a lot of myself in the wayNoel talks about things. I really relate to the journey of it all. Everybody, Iwould hope, dreams big.”
By “Noel,” Johnson means Noel Gallagher, co-founder of the famousManchester-family band, Oasis. In fact, Johnson says he’s watched the 2016documentary, Oasis: Supersonic over adozen times. He finds energy and push from it, including in one of theculminating scenes in which Oasis plays in front of over 100,000 audiencemembers and then does it again the next night. The indelible image of the seaof people seems almost impossible after a year where everyone had to stayinside. Yet, it’s also a clear ambition for Enumclaw.
“If that doesn’t get you pumped up,” Johnson says, “I don’tknow what will.”
Enumclaw, which formed in July 2019, found its groove as athree-piece. Comprised of frontman Johnson, drummer Ladaniel Gipson andguitarist Nathan Cornell, the trio enjoys digging into fuzzy sounds and catchy rhythms.They began to put songs together in earnest in March 2020, but then theCOVID-19 shutdown put a stop to all that. In the time between, Johnson says hewrote and reflected. He tapped into vulnerabilities and insecurities. Theresulting songs solidified the foundation for the band’s debut EP. ThenEnumclaw enlisted Johnson’s brother, Eli Edwards, to play bass. The quartet wascomplete.
“I don’t think I could have been in a band without Nathan,Ladaniel and Eli,” Johnson says.
In a way, each of the band members learned new instrumentsto get the project off the ground. Gipson had played guitar and ukulele butnever drums. Edwards picked up the bass for the first time for the project.Cornell took up bass before Edwards joined the group, and Johnson had nevermuch played guitar or sung prior to the band. Though they’d all participated inmaking music since the mid-2010s, whether that was DJing or putting out songsdigitally on platforms like SoundCloud, Enumclaw is a new mode of expressionfor each of its members.
“It’s odd to me now,” Johnson says, “that something we’vecome together and done in our friend’s bedrooms is now in the world and existson its own. People are consuming our music the same way we consume otherpeople’s music.”
Two major avenues inspire the songs the band makes: thesing-talk-yet-melodic-droning vocals of artists like Drake and Kid Cudi and theemotional, angsty rock songs from grunge-era bands like Nirvana, Oasis and TheSmashing Pumpkins. The band’s music is the sound of dripping wax over an out-of-tune,scratchy turntable. In other words, it’s nuanced, provocative and even blissful.On the new EP, songs often touch on a hope to see more of the world and not to betrapped in any low-stakes cycles.
“I wrote these songs on an acoustic guitar in my living roomby myself,” Johnson says. “I had a lot of time to reflect on myself and thepeople around me. I have friends I grew up with who have maybe been to Seattlethree times in their whole lives, and we’re now in our mid-twenties. I don’twant to be like those people.”
Refrainson the new album often speak about personal growth.
“I feel like I’ve messed up relationships in my life,” Johnson says, “whether platonic or romantic because I wasn’t vulnerable enough. So, putting that stuff into the music is me trying to learn how to be vulnerable for the first time.”
Enumclaw members came to music early on in their lives andhave since become rather obsessed with it. That care and deep love show clearlyin the songs they create. For Edwards, it’s that music can change the world.For Gipson, it’s the freedom music offers to say anything at all in song. ForCornell, it’s the act of forgetting space and time while performing. And forJohnson, it’s the catharsis music offers that keeps him coming back.
“Music fills the void like nothing else,” Johnson says.
