Feature in The Oregonian (June 1996)

Harvester’s Lyrics Separate it From Alternative Music Chaff

By Michael Evans

Its name – Harvester – conjures up visions of yet another neo-country band, a la Wilco or Son Volt.  Immediately, you picture a group of Flying Burrito Brothers wannabes who worship Gram Parsons at the Temple of Twang.

            But actually the source of their name is “irrelevant to agrarian themes,” as Harvester singer/songwriter Sean Harrasser put it.  It’s the result of a typographical error more than anything. 

While attending college at Chico State University in California, Harrasser received a student loan statement addressed to “Sean Harvester.” 

Spawned nearly three years ago, while Harrasser was finishing up work on a degree in geography, Harvester has gone through myriad personnel changes and configurations.  Originally a guitar/vocals duo, the group morphed briefly into a three guitars and drummer lineup before adopting the classic rock lineup of two guitars, bass, and drums.

Unlike most bands whose members usually live near one another, the four musicians in Harvester are scattered along the West Coast: Harrasser moved to Portland last August, Guitarist Jed Brewer lives in the Bay Area, drummer Kelly Bauman in Chico, and bassist Todd Steinberg lives in Redding, CA, (from which Harrasser and Bauman originally hail).

According to Harrasser, the band always has led a casual, almost nomadic existence.  Likewise, he says, their current deal with Geffen Records was pure accident.

“(Getting signed) came completely out of nowhere.  We’d all been in bands that tried to do the club scene, put our releases…but it got us nowhere,” he says.

“(Harvester) is something we did for our own entertainment value.”

Harvester’s Geffen debut and first full-length recording, Me Climb Mountain, was released earlier this year. 

On first listen Me Climb Mountain does little to distinguish itself from the cookie-cutter alternative rock that has flooded airwaves and the marketplace recently.  But after scaling Mountain a few more times, one finds it to be more than your everyday rock.

Harrasser seems influenced equally by the Gordon Lightfoot and Simon and Garfunkel albums he raided from his parents record collections as by the indie rock canons by R.E.M. and the Replacements of his high school days.  Harrasser describes his music as “a strange collision between 60s folk rock and punk.”

He also cites Bob Dylan, in particular, as a seminal influence.

“(Dylan’s songs) really sent me down the road to compose pop music; it set me in the mind that lyric and vocal melody were of substance.”

Indeed, the lyrics are what set Harvester’s punk-inspired pop tunes apart.  The songs explore such unlikely rock n’ roll subjects as mathematics (“My Buffalo Song”) and Moby Dick (“Pequod”).

“Geology and mountaineering are my two favorite things to write songs about,” Harrasser adds.

At this point, one imagines Harvester playing a Nirvana tribute titled “Heart-Shaped Bauxite.”  The whole thing seems a little too high-brow for rock n’ roll.

However, Harvester’s live shows tend to be more sophomoric than cerebral.

“The songs themselves are so serious,” Harrasser says, “(But) the stage is such a humiliating place.  There is something about playing to 10 or 20 people in a half-empty club that brings out the imbecile in me.

“We enjoy performing, but it’s just a rock concert,” he says.  “Without levity I’m not sure we could make it through a show.”

“If you want the heart of the artichoke, then you can listen to the record and hear what it has to say.  But if you want the artichoke itself, you have to check us out live.”

Harvester’s vagabond existence will experience a period of transition in the coming months.  Drummer Bauman is leaving the group to concentrate his energies on being the singer/songwriter of his own band, Death Star.  His permanent replacement, when selected, is expected to relocate (along with guitarist Brewer) to Portland later this summer.  However, bassist Steinberg will remain in Redding.

But for now, Harvester members remain a free-from entity bemused for their newfound roles as accidental rock stars.  They take their music seriously, but the mythos of rock amuses Harrasser no end. 

“Although I derive so much pleasure from rock n roll, it sets itself up so easy to be made fun of.”