| Spencer Bell of The Stevedores by Amy Dupcak |
Spencer Bell of The Stevedores The Stevedores formed in the basement of their old house in Fleetwood, New York, just north of the city. The five members combined individual abilities and passions to create a truly unique and ambitious musical experience, influenced by everything from The Doors to old Westerns. Harmonious and rambunctious, blues-driven and classic-rock oriented, The Stevedores, who once described their own sound as “psychedelic lounge glam,” can certainly boast distinctiveness and authenticity rarely encountered in today’s music scene. Their debut album Tamuawok was recorded primarily at Sarah Lawrence College, though mastering was completed after the band had relocated to a house in Madison, Wisconsin. Here in New York, they had given many a high-energy performance, most notably in the Knitting Factory basement; their songs boosted by blaring amps, occasional props, Spencer’s animated stage presence, and an ever-present gang of loyal fans (myself included). Enthralled with the creative process, frontman Spencer Bell (whose dynamic singing and wide vocal range drive every Stevedores song, and who also did Tamuawok’s art) continually worked on acoustic solo projects. He recorded several EPs and full-length albums while living in Fleetwood, Brooklyn, and Madison. Reminiscent of Jim Croce (who also died surprisingly young), Mason Jennings, Syd Barrett and early Bowie, his organic folk-rock-bluesy blend of songwriting is incredibly original and melodic. Brutally honest and self-aware, but never melodramatic or clichéd, Spencer’s lyrics represent a rather minimalist take on life. He tells stories, sometimes metaphorical and other times straightforward, of heartbreaks, current hang-ups, life experiences and “facing a boredom that borders on horrible.” Many songs, which sometimes involve beautiful harmonies and experimental voice effects, offer optimistic insight and a positive, even amusing, attitude—“That’s me, I’m the lyricist, it’s not my job, it’s my disposition. I gotta let you know this life is rich. We’re not alone, you see it’s really me that I’m trying to convince.” Not long after finishing his most recent and most accomplished album (Feudal, Brutal and the American Dream), Spencer was diagnosed with severe adrenal gland cancer. About ten days later, on December 3, he succumbed to his illness. At only twenty years old, Spencer had lived a life full of art and adventure, performing and creating with maturity and passion way beyond his age. The Stevedores played, for the first time without him, at a memorial service held in his hometown of Detroit. As per Spencer’s request, piñatas, monkeys, and inflatable cacti hung from the ceiling. In all honesty, there is no way to sum up Spencer Bell because he was a larger-than-life character whose presence deeply affected a room. I can tell you this much: he was genuinely funny, charming and always knew how to cheer you up. He was a master at card tricks, awesome at chess, and had an incredible bond with his cat, Tony. He wrote poetry using an old typewriter and had a massive collection of personal journals. He made art out of soda cans and rubber bands, sculptures from scraps of iron, wood, and broken chairs. He created sock monsters and 3D animated cartoons. He hung a hammock in his bedroom. Once, he recorded “pathways of energy” by duct-taping walls, floors, and the ceiling. He was sensitive, affectionate and free-spirited, never caring what others thought. Spencer was somebody to look up to…he is greatly missed. Check out The Stevedores at http://www.myspace.com/thestevedores
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