You could tell they were tired. It was the last day of Dr. Dog’s longest tour to date, and that morning they were still drinking beer when some people are sipping their first cup of java.

WERS was bustling that Friday. If people weren’t rushing to set up equipment, they were finalizing plans for a quickly approaching Live Music Week, in which the station would host nearly 40 in-studio performances. Everybody was busy, except the members of Dr. Dog. In front of a bright window looking out on Boston Common sat Scott McMicken, Toby Leaman, Zach Miller, Juston Stens and Frank McElroy, quietly staring at the floor. Calm, unassuming and passive, Leaman had the reflective expression of someone waiting for a train home.

“You’re all from Philadelphia, right?” I asked, trying to spark a conversation with the band. Their blank faces grew alert, and Leaman, wearing a plaid shirt and blue beanie, said he grew up outside of the city, in West Grove, Pa. Being a Chester County native myself, I made small talk about familiar towns and schools. When I mentioned that their new album, “Fate,” was July’s WERS Album of the Month, they grew humbly delighted.

It’s good they take compliments well. Since touring with My Morning Jacket in 2004, bloggers and music critics have praised the band, and, according to a July Philadelphia Inquirer article, even Lou Reed has called them his new favorite group. But recognition didn’t always come easily for Dr. Dog. They played for five years largely unknown. Until recently, their fan base didn’t generate enough money for the group to spend on hotel rooms while touring, so they usually stayed with the first person to offer them a place to crash, says Leaman. This rambling lifestyle brought them many friends, and also a few situations they would rather forget.

“There have been a lot of houses we’ve just straight up left,” says Leaman.

Luckily for Dr. Dog, the success of their last few albums gave them the luxury of two hotel rooms for most stops on their latest tour.

“We’re not couch surfing anymore,” Leaman says.

Around 1:30 p.m., Dr. Dog began setting up for their performance. Despite their lack of sleep, they became vivacious and sprightly as soon as they started warming up. They love playing, and it shows. When WERS in-studio host James Clark started his interview with the band at 2:30 p.m., keyboardist Zach Miller was noticeably anxious to play. If you listened closely, you could hear ambient sounds leading into their first song, “The Breeze,” for 30 seconds before the song’s commencement.

Then, after a few words with the DJ, the rest of the band joined in, and McMicken sang: “Are you moving/ much to fast/ and the good times/ that just don’t last/ if you’re always on the go/ put that needle to the groove/ and sing.”

Their live performance of the song was slightly nuanced at the bridge, sung by Leaman instead of McMicken. Leaman, who had been sipping on a licorice-based soar throat remedy he bought from Whole Foods, sounded extra raspy, and deep: “Are there dark parts to your mind/ hidden secrets left behind/ if no one ever goes/ but everybody knows.” He could have sung anything and it would have sounded profound. Really, the lyrics could have been about cheese dip, dental floss, non-stick frying pans—anything really—and Leaman’s voice would still give you chills.

Between songs, Scott McMicken talked about choosing their new album’s title. “Like many things with Dr. Dog, it sort of started with no real purpose or intent, and then quickly became full of purpose and intent,” McMicken said. “We tend to gravitate toward things on a real basic level, like: ‘Yeah, that sounds cool, I like that … I can envision that,’ and then once you’re comfortable with it on that level you start to create meaning.”

Everything gained a purpose, including the album’s artwork. The painting of Bonnie and Clyde featured on the cover is by Ken Ellis, a bartender at a Chicago joint called The Rainbow Club. As fate would have it, Dr. Dog noticed the painting upon stumbling into the bar, and asked Ellis who made it. They bought it, and the original painting, which is almost life size, hangs in the band’s Philadelphia studio.

Leaman sang the second song, “Ancients.” Screaming wildly, he evoked Joe Cocker, and one of his influences, Tom Waits. We were hearing the loud, unrestrained bark of the Dog, and by this time, a crowd of people were gathered outside on the sidewalk, peering into the station through the windows. Leaman’s speaking voice was noticeably rattled after belting out the final notes of “Ancients.” Before starting another song, McMicken talked about the band’s songwriting process. He said about half of their songs are old, sometimes going back six or seven years, and the rest are new. “In my brain,” McMicken said, “it gives a sense of variety because you’ve got these songs that you wrote when you were a completely different person than you are now next to these songs you wrote yesterday.” It was somewhat coincidental that McMicken talked about using old songs as he led into the third and final track of the performance, “Old Days.” The lyrics begin: “Let go of the old ones/ we’ve got some new ones/ hold on to the good stuff and let go/ and get real tough.”

After Dr. Dog finished, they packed up their van and took their instruments to the Middle East in Cambridge, ending their tour with San Diego band Delta Spirit. They start their European tour on October 30.

drdogmusic.com

This article was originally published on WERS.org, October 12, 2008

Americans are spending less and most small businesses are losing money. Restaurants, retail outlets and car dealerships suffer from a lack of customers. But in Cambridge, a business specializing in home beer brewing is thriving. Robert Chasse, who works at Modern Homebrew, says his job is secure.

“It pretty much is recession proof,” says Chasse. “When the economy goes south, everyone’s going to want to get drunk to forget it. When the market improves everybody’s going to want to get drunk to celebrate.”

Historically, the beer industry maintains profits during a recession. In 2001, Economist Donald Freeman examined beer sales between 1955 and 1994. He found beer sales held steady through economic changes. A recent Nielsen survey suggests most people haven’t cut back on beer consumption. Drinking seems a reasonable indulgence. And for those who wish to indulge and save, home brewing is a cheaper alternative to liquor stores.

“Making my own stuff just makes sense,” says Matt Carroll, a Modern Homebrew employee.

For regulars at Modern Homebrew, filling a growler starts with the raw ingredients. They pick the yeast, sniff out the hops and grind the grains. Carroll says his home brewed ales are better and cheaper than what he could buy in stores.

“You’re able to make something that is the fancy expensive six pack for a price more comparable to the really cheap stuff,” says Carroll.

The past decade brought an unprecedented demand for unique and complex beer. That demand was met by an astronomical increase in U.S. craft brewers. But a looming recession raised concerns about the willingness of consumers to continue paying for quality over quantity. Those worries were partially quelled by a mid-2008 Brewer’s Association report showing craft beer dollar sales up 11 percent from last year. Ann George, president of the Hop Growers of America, says the craft industry will continue to grow.

“I think that they’ve developed a pretty loyal following,” says George, “and I’m hopeful that they’ll be able to maintain their strength through the economic downturn.”

In case you don’t know, hops are bitter, piney flowers that are crucial to beer making. Worldwide hop acreage depleted considerably since 1994, until this year. George, who aids communication between growers and brewers, says U.S. hop yields spiked 23 percent this year. She says hop farmers could prosper in coming years.

“We’re hopeful that from the standpoint of raw materials for beer, that we’ll be able to see that market at least hold its own if not strengthen somewhat,” says George.

Part of this year’s hop acreage came from Chasse at Modern Homebrew. When the hop shortage threatened some of his favorite hop varieties last year, he planted his own hop fields in Missouri to get the strains he wants. This self-reliant mentality, Chasse says, protects home brewers from worldwide economic trends.

“We rely on no one,” Chasse says. “We don’t have to rely on anyone, because we do it ourselves.”

Modern Homebrew’s manager Randy Barrel is optimistic about the appeal of his store in a weak economy. Even if national business cycles continue spiraling downward, he’s confident people will keep brewing their own beer.

“I’m pretty happy with where we are in the current market economy,” Barrel says.

This video was originally published on Bostonia.