Texan DavĂd Garza has been making noteworthy, original music since the late '80s. But to date, he has always remained just outside the mainstream. Little things seem to hinder his ascent to superstardom.
For starters, there's his name. See the accent? Use it. His forename is pronounced "Dah-VEED." "I have a friend who is a film professor at UCLA, and he says, 'I love that you are DavĂd, not David,'" says the musician. "'Because when you do that, it's cheeky and defiant.'"
But what about his music? He has a sweet, soulful voice with an aching upper register, earning him comparisons to artists like Jeff Buckley, Robert Plant, and Freddie Mercury, and a knack for penning savvy pop-rock songs with an edge. The dizzying "Discoball World," from his major-label debut, This Euphoria, was a KEXP staple in 1998, while "Say Baby," from 2001's Overdub, managed to poke fun at the restrictions of radio formatting rules, while writing a soulful, sarcastic ballad that met all of them.
Summing up Garza's aesthetic in a few succinct, marketable phrases isn't easy. How does the musician himself do it? "I always give the most egotistical, annoying answer possible: 'I play my music,'" he admits. "If someone then says, 'What is your music like?' the conversation just degrades from there."
Although the 35-year-old has flirted with big music companies, the majority of his titles have been issued in small runs and self-released. Two years ago, he assembled the best of his vast back catalog into a comprehensive anthology. Originally, it was titled Rockers, Rollers, Losers, Weepers, and arranged thematically. But at the last minute, Garza scrambled the tracks into a more random order—"because that's how life happens"—and issued the set as A Strange Mess of Flowers.
Garza also has a new, self-titled album available; you can pick it up when he plays with Fiona Apple and Damien Rice at Chateau Ste. Michelle in Woodinville on Monday, July 3 (or via www.davidgarza.com). Among its highlights is "Ready to Fly," a song that addresses the death of a friend, and the division between body and spirit—but also the distinction between the media through which music is disseminated, and the art itself. To put it short, making and shilling hard, nonbiodegradable CDs isn't a top priority for Garza these days.
"I went to this bar back East, right around the time that song came to me, and I ordered a drink," he recalls. "And for coasters, they had this big spindle of CDs. They set Nirvana's Nevermind on the table, and then plopped a glass of beer down on top of it. 'Well,' I thought, 'That says it all.'"
At some point, the feisty singer-songwriter plans to give DavĂd Garza more of a push. But later. "I'll come out of whatever little cave I'm in again, and place ads in newspapers, and go do in-stores, and all those things one must to promote a record. But right now? This is summer vacation."
