Text: Sandra A. Garcia
Photos: Sandra C. Davis

Imagine making music so marvellous that rock reviewers can't contain their own jealousy. Sound ridiculous? Think again.

Toni Halliday, vibrant vocalist and resident object of desire for Curve, is already seeing it happen. When I jest that people may become jealous of how exquisite Curve is, Toni picks up a Melody Maker. With arched brow she proceeds to read the review for 'Blackerthreetrackertwo', Curve's British remix CD released just before Cuckoo. "'While it's admirable that Curve is so willing to have their work vivisected on the slab of state of the art mixology, I'd actually be more impressed if they hadn't chosen such blatantly hip collaborators as The Future Sound Of London and The Drum Club. All a bit Melody Maker, actually. Why not really confound us by hiring Mutt Lange or Steve Lilliwhite or some ragamuffin. But speaking selfishly, I resent the fact that it takes the best part of an hour to review the new Curve single.' It doesn't, because it's two records," Toni interjects in supreme annoyance. She continues, "But listen to this... 'But the problem that I really have with Curve is that they have always been so hip, the Eurythmics for the post My Bloody Valentine age. They are totally clued in, an immaculate composite of cutting edge elements; what is there not to like when they've got five songs and all the right stuff: feedback, gloss, gaseous guitars, rigorous drum machine beats, psychedelic eeriness. Ultimately, Curve are too exquisitely tasteful.'"

Toni slowly folds the paper, her wide eyes brimming with arch puzzlement. "Do you know? I don't know... he's basically saying that this band has got everything... this band is so good I don't like them. You say they might get jealous... they already are," she chuckles in dark delight. "He's busy going on about us having a focus! If we flailed around, it would be 'oh, I like this band.' It's the stuff where we would be there down there and they could feel sympathetic. But the minute we are good enough they go 'oh, how can this band be true; they're perfect. They look right, they sound right... they've got their own sound, their own style, everything is right. What's wrong?' They are so very, very jealous. That's because most journalists who work for those types of papers are ugly and they used to be in bands and never got anywhere." That was a rare moment of supreme cattiness. "But it doesn't bother me in the end, because they are so out of control."

Those who review the music may be out of control, but those who make it are not. This band, with its white hot nucleus of Toni and multi-instrumentalist madman Dean Garcia, is in control with white-knuckled intent. Toni laughs about the making of their cunning new album Cuckoo as it's the same cast of characters who created Doppelgänger in Toni's basement studio. "We know our own kind and we stick with them," she jests with a subtle toss of her head.

There's a method to their clannishness. When you listen to the densely dark delivery that erupts from the speakers, you instantly assume that this time around they had to have the whole band in there, right? It's Debbie, Monti, Dean, Alex and Toni jamming, correct? What's that? It's still only Dean authoring all that mayhem? Whoa. Toni describes that this is the right way for Curve to work now. "But we don't know how long it will stay like that. Each album we will approach differently, and obviously with the experience of life and doing things that you've never done before, you learn more and the approach always comes from however you are feeling at that moment."

Even the onslaught opener 'Missing Link,' which sounds like an entire horde of guitar maniacs at work, is just the Dean and Toni show. "He was singing that guitar riff to me for about two months," mock growls Toni. "'I've got this riff, I've got this riff,' and we just came back and did it straight off that first American tour. When we finished that little tour we went straight in and did 'Missing Link.'"

Judging by the title, were they influenced by American audiences? "No, because it's not very grungy," Toni quickly ripostes. "It's not like ten tracks of college rock."

But that's why we come back to curve around this maddening music, because it doesn't kiss radio programmers posteriors for acceptance. Curve bites your ear with their evil elixir that needs to be aurally ingested every day... addiction is encouraged. We don't need another fabricated college rock band when we can have this divine darkness. "I think that people forget... it's really up to bands to be individual, so they can set their own mix. Then that becomes the standard by which the rest is followed by. But a lot of bands think, 'well, there are these niches and we have to fall into them or we don't stand a chance.' Which is completely wrong!"

But originality can pay a dear price, in lessened sales and far less support from any record company, no matter who. "You have to stick to your guns, and not be depressed or depleted about bands that will, in time, be fly by night. These bands seem to be going past you at a hundred miles an hour, but they're not really because their journey is so much shorter. It's like the tortoise and the hare. We are very, very tortoise-like, just plodding along at our own rate. We are very patient, because we understand the concept of our music. You have to stay on the path the whole way through. You can't fall off that path. It's dangerous stuff.

"To be honest, Dean and I can make a record that sounds like anything, easily. We have to work really hard; it's harder for us to make a record that just sounds like us. We have to have the confidence to develop on that with each record we make, for the next plateau, to reach the next logical extension. But it would be easy for us to do what a lot of bands are doing now," is her forthright conclusion.

Dean could bend his music into any form, from pop to techno to metal. Those guitars and the flexible arsenal of his mind tell you that. "He could. But we don't. We just work at staying original," Toni stresses. "Keeping that, and your own identity, because in the end that always wins through."

When Curve first tried to nibble my ear I rejected their advances. Luckily this aberrant behaviour was corrected and I fell into their arc of sound when I heard that shivery Frozen EP. So upon reflection, I can see how their sensual music can confuse the timid. "Well, I like that. I know that a lot of people are frightened by that, but I like the mystery of it all, when people are going 'what's this?' They have to think, and they have to use their imaginations. The only time our music doesn't work is when the people who listen to it don't have any imagination. They just go, 'oh, it doesn't sound like The Breeders,'" she mocks in a whiny voice. "'Oh, it doesn't sound like this or it doesn't sound like that.' Well, that's because it's not supposed to," explains Toni with arch simplicity, acting like a patient parent with a stupid child.

Dean and Toni have worked closely for many years on and off. Curve is their penultimate creation, full of lust and life. They've been together long enough to know when to keep out of reach other's realm. When Toni goes in to do her vocals, most of the time Dean isn't even in the studio. "He doesn't have any say in it," she grins, "apart from like 'I don't like that word.' I do them on my own, I just experiment and experiment until I get what I like. I'll play it to him and sometimes he'll go 'Mmmm, I don't really like that bit.' And I'll go 'Whhaaat? '" as her structured face falls into slack disbelief. "'But I think it's brilliant!' Then I'll play it for Alan (Moulder, engineer) and (producer) Flood, and if they all agree it's like 'well, I will go do something else,'" she mockingly sniffs. "But I do have a lot of freedom, and that's what I like working with Curve."

Dean could be very dictatorial, considering the intense manner that he works in, but if he were, he'd lose out on the sublime pleasure of Toni's voice. I can't imagine anyone going, 'Toni, I want the vocals to be like this': I wouldn't want to see what's left of that poor fool! "Oh no! If anyone said that to me, I would tell them to fuck off! I wouldn't be able to help it. 'What do you mean, l am the singer! This is a fifty / fifty thing, and I will do what I bloody well like. And if it's crap, then it's crap!'" she declares. "But the thing about it is obviously I want everything to go with the music, so I work heavily with the music and what it tells me to do. And so I don't think I would go out of my way to put something in there that didn't go with the atmosphere of the song.

"We just want the best, and we both have the same ambition for the best thing. And what I want and think is the best, is the best for us. What Dean thinks is the best really is the best for us, because we both think in the same way. We very rarely clash on an ego level. We're too old for that!" she suddenly laughs. "That's fine when you're 18 and want to be pop stars, and you all want to be boss."

It's hard to believe that years back Toni once sued Dean after the disastrous demise of their first band. They definitely have gotten any negative emotions well out of the way. And this lack of ego allows them to fill an album with nothing but quality. Their mystique is never compromised, as between Dean's music wrapping about Toni's tones and Toni filling any cracks with that curvaceous voice, they create a wonderful wall of music that dares you to find a door. Or a small window... even a little crack? This music is built by sonic stonemasons using airtight calk. "That's right, don't leave any gaps," Toni smiles. "But I did loads less double tracking on this album. The lead vocals are single tracked. It's because I felt more confident. On the first album and all the EP's, I doubled tracked everything. Because I would think, 'oh, my voice sounds so weak...'" she gasps in remembrance.

Your voice was weak? Hello, Toni! "Yeah, I was really paranoid. But this one I said nooo... see that, like 'Unreadable Communication' I hear my voice and I go..." as Toni exhibits an astoundingly sexy Cheshire cat smile. That smile is still in that room to this day. "'That is my voice!' With 'Unreadable Communication,' there is another backing track, but that's it. If that had been on Doppelgänger, it would have had four tracks. We also got the vocals a bit louder as well. We pushed them. I was really happy that I could hear the texture and tone of my voice without going 'ohhhhh,'" this delivered with a grimace.

Doppelgänger was the sound of falling into an inky pit, of looking into endless mirrors but not seeing yourself. Cuckoo swallows you whole only to spit you out before lashing you back into an even darker pit lined with glass shards. It's even blacker in tone, if that's possible. "Yeah, I think it's darker. People would ask after Doppelgänger, 'so, what's your next album going to sound like,' and I really thought that we had made our indie record, now this would be what we really are," she gloats. "This is our true nature. I really had that feeling this would happen. And people will go darker than Doppelgänger? What is blacker than black? But it did; it got darker. I think that people thought it would get poppier... and we could, but in the end we couldn't, because it wasn't the feeling.

"'All of One' ended up on the album, and we weren't going to put that on because we thought, 'Christ, that's so light! It doesn't have the feeling!' But then when we were stringing the album together, when we put that track into the place, it worked. It is poppy, breezy, and light... it's not multilayered, it's got fluffy drums... a really pop melody. But when I put it into the string of the album I went it has just got to be like that, because of the context. It was only because of our paranoia, because we didn't want that pop tone. But as soon as we put it back into its place it was right, it's a breather. Then after that boom, you're sucked into Unreadable Communication.' And you do need that song after 'Crystal' and 'Men are From Mars,' which are so 'ohmigod, ohmigod,'" as she clenches her small fist. "You need that rest. We did learn a lot from that, about putting albums together, instead of everything having to be in your face, loud, fast, hard, relentless. No, no, no, it all comes down to such subtleties that you never thought of before. You need that breath of fresh air before that next onslaught."

Toni gets her fresh air when she steps out to work with other musicians, something she doesn't do very often. Some of the best non-Curve work is to be found on last year's Bloodline album, which was Alan Wilder recruiting various vocal talents to create his ambitious Recoil project. Toni's two vocal tracks are just like her sinful smile... deliciously unnerving. "Alan just let me do exactly what I wanted to do. He brought me in because he respected me, and that's what I want. I only worked with Alan because I know him very well; he used to live three streets down from me. He knew me when I was a solo artist and needed a remix. So this was like trading a favor. He gave me a DAT of it, I took it downstairs and just started experimenting with vocal things that I wanted to do, and I went in with it and just said 'this is what I want to do.' And he just said 'fine,' and that was it."

Another out of Curve experience ended up being a bit more complex. If you have that Peace Together album, once you get past the self-congratulatory we are the world type opener, you might be thrown by the next combination: Ian Dury and Curve? The legendary rough voiced punk icon dueting with our heroine? At first Toni was reluctant, when she heard who else was on the album. "I said 'ohhh, you've got Gabriel....'*quot; she now grimacing in total mistrust.

"I don't care who else is on it, if you've got Sinead and Gabriel, then I don't want to be on it. Anyway, he was persistent, kept ringing up, ringing up. He had this list of 40 songs... I saw nothing on there we wanted to do! I said, 'ahhh, we should just do 'What a Waste,' because that's what I think of the occupation, it's just a mess. And hey, I know Ian, we'll get Ian in on it.' And he just went 'that's such a brilliant idea.' But that was it... he stopped calling and then the head of the charity starts calling. I said, 'hey, take the idea and get someone else to do it! There's just no way we can do this.' He was like 'what can we do to make time for you?' This went on and on. In the end I just caved in... it was just too much. And that's how they work to do things. It's a good cause as long as the money goes to the right people.

"And Ian came down to do it. He was into it, he really was. He had faxed over the lyrics, and I had to look up some of the words in the dictionary! He's such a wordsmith! He's a genius! He is a really talented human being, and he's capable of painting such pictures with words. I have always respected him because I knew him, but working with him my respect level shot up."

The track leaps out since it comes right after that annoying choral track... Toni just rolls her eyes, expressing, "We really weren't into doing that kind of thing, but it was an issue so close to home. There is a certain amount of things you can do, but the situation is insolvable. What are you going to do, pull out? But there is a certain amount of things you can do to help the children. The majority of the little kids that I've met in Northern Ireland don't want the English to pull out. It's only because it's portrayed in the media that everyone in Northern Ireland wants the British out, but it's not true. It seems when the TV cameras are there, they only film the really extreme political factions of what's going on. And there's always someone in front of the camera screaming 'England out, England out!' But the real people, the innocent people are like 'don't leave!'"

That's exactly what we're spoon fed over here. Of course, the Peace Together people aren't the only people who want Toni's vocal talents, but... "I am funny, because l am not really interested in it. The only reason I did that with Alan was that trade of favor. I have also done something with the Future Sound of London, because they did a mix for us. I ended up actually writing a song for them! They don't like songs; I was talking to them and they said 'we haven't heard a song we liked yet'... I was like 'ahhh, well... I've got a confession to make, I've just written a song on one of your new age pieces. I've managed to find the structure of it; you thought there was no structure in it, didn't you; well, I found it!'" she laughs in triumph, sipping her wine. "They couldn't believe that, they were really shocked, because someone had actually found a song structure in a piece of new age music. And they did have some mathematical thing behind it which I spotted straight away! I put vocals down on one side of the DAT, I put music down on the other side, and then they take it off. I said what they should do if they didn't want to keep it like that was to pull off words and use that on other tracks in time structures. And so when I hear it I am sure it will be little bits of what I did. Which is fine, I don't mind at all."

That way they certainly can't ruin it! "No, I like working like that, it's very moderne," she mockingly declares.

In the world of the moderne, Curve is also part of the new generation working in their own studio. "It's the only way to go, because you don't live by fear. I think it's quite difficult for people to just go into a studio. Ok, you have a month in the studio to do your album, be inspired today and for the next thirty days," she commands. "I find that concept really frightening."

And what about those cost savings? Toni agrees with a proud smile, describing, "Our album cost as much as the tape. Five reels of one inch tape. But we do spend money on mixing, as we do mix in a big studio. That's the only thing we spend money on.

"Also the thing about having your own studio no matter what happens, no one can prevent you from making your own music. Because it's yours, it's something solid and real. If you want to piss money down the toilet in a massive studio, you haven't got anything apart from the record. And that means when the record company doesn't sell your record, and the record company drops you, you've got nothing, apart from a lot of records that no one is interested in!" she laughs.

Speaking of fellow studio rats, Curve recruited Trent Reznor to remix a track on that 'Blackerthreetrackertwo' release. You remember, the release that sounded too perfect. They sent Flood a DAT of their song and Trent liked what he heard, lending that Reznor touch without meeting the duo. Toni describes, "I have since met him when I was in LA and he's a really nice guy... I was quite surprised. I mean... I don't mean I was surprised, there's no reason why he wouldn't be..." she laughs, over compensating by declaring, "he's a lovely guy. We ran into him after a couple of Jagermiesters, and he was great."

I'll remember that. Curve also had a remix done by that ambiguous Aphex Twin, Toni describing how it all came about due to Curve having a hardcore techno DJ from the Spiral Tribe as their support band in Europe. The audience hated it, which made Curve love him all the more. And each night they took the stage to this one Aphex Twin song, so by the time they returned home, they were rabid to work with him. "Let's send him this really obscure b-side and see what he can do with it, because we just wanted it for us to play at home!" she laughs. "We sent it to him and he loved it. Then he did this thing, he just took one bit of my voice, just a texture, and that was it. And he rewrote around it, because our track made him think of this other thing. It was absolutely brilliant! So we white labelled it to clubs, we never commercially released it. It was a really sought after record because it was real genius."

He sees things differently, this Richard James. His ear is tuned to some frequency not open to everyone. Toni reasons, "He's not commercial, and he's never going to cross. And that's what is brilliant about him. There are many others, and they make these records, these white labels only, and they make or break on the dancefloor. It is pure, given what is going on in all other areas of music in England. Unless you make really commercial records, you don't get on the radio. And if you don't make the playlists on Radio One, you're fucked. Radiohead is a classic example!" she suddenly exclaims.

Unbelievable. They couldn't get noticed unless vocalist Thom Yorke stripped naked in the halls of the BBC but now after their American success the song suddenly went top ten in the UK. Toni nods with a disgusted look, relaying a story about overhearing DJ's at the BBC drooling over Radiohead just because of their "across the water success." Right.

After chastising herself for digressing she continues. "What's happening in England is these kids have got this really cult ethic, making music in their bedroom then pressing up only about 500 white labels, and giving it to DJ's to get played. And this stuff is just so uncommercial; it will never cross. It will always stay underground, so the kids in the clubs won't feel sold out or commercialised.

"I mean we are not the alternative in England. Nirvana aren't... none of these bands. The bands that are seriously considered alternative here aren't in England!" she fiercely declares.

So what is Curve considered in Britain? "We are considered an independent," she grandly announces.

But being an independent doesn't count in America, since many American labels aren't signing trend setters, just trend reinforcers. "It's so unimaginative," she scoffs. "The alternative in America has nothing to do with being signed to an indie like in England, where it really does. But here, they can fabricate a band like Stone Temple Pilots, and sell it back to the kids and say this is alternative. It's just incredible! It was different with Pearl Jam, at least they had been around for a bit. I don't like Pearl Jam, I don't like it a bit, although there is something about Eddie Vedder. He seems crushed, and he speaks to all those twenty-somethings that come from dysfunctional families. That's why I can relate to Eddie Vedder's feelings, even though I don't like Pearl Jam," she laughs. "But the Stone Temple Pilots, five years ago they were singing Robert Palmer covers. They were!" she laughs as we descend into nasty snickers. "I find that quite interesting!"

Toni happily admits that she still loves Nirvana, praising their brilliance and admiring them for sticking to their own twisted path in the face of all that success. I would have loved to have seen that festival across the pond where the two groups shared a bill back in 1992.

Kurt Cobain seems to resent having this twisted dark pop ability in him, but we both agree: it's an important trait, since many fakers would give their advances for that talent of knowing when merge a melody into the murky mess. It's an instinctual thing, often imitated, never captured. Dean and Toni obviously suffer from this glorious disease...

What? You need proof? Try those brilliant peaks in Curve's sound that shout pure genius. You'll never hear them until the third or fourth listen, then it's an addiction within the addiction. Toni knows those parts well. "We do get really excited. Quite often we'll think of something, I'll write something down, and he'll be 'I just thought of that!' We don't have to talk much about it. It's 'Unreadable Communication,'" she quips, stealing a title and mentioning the very song I had in mind. That aural orgasm kicks in at 2:23 during the track and ends at 3:24: visible shivers, anyone? "I love that bit too. When we did that bit we just smiled," ...there's that sinful smile again... "we just looked at each other and went 'not bad!' That's what we go for. It's really very hedonistic and selfish for us. It's to make us feel good. Obviously there are the tense moments, because there has to be the tension that rubs off on each other; you need those sparks. But what it really comes down to is sheer enjoyment. All the other aspects of what you're doing become boring really, in comparison, when you create something that's better then the last thing you created. We're always laughing and slapping each other on the back... you're great, I'm great, everyone is great," she laughs, pausing for a sip of wine.

Not only does Curve have musical passages that twist your mind, but the way some of Toni's lyrics lash out from the songs incorrectly paint her to be a black hearted psycho bitch from hell. "It's just the way they fall out, the way it comes together," she describes. "Some parts just do jump up and strangle you. And you go 'oh, I don't know about that! I don't know if that was quite what I was expecting!'

"But they are also quite fragmented. Someday I will write continuous things..." she grins with self-mockery. "But they are still quite a jumble, and that's how my head is at the time, all jumbled up. I think that's the way it is for most people. And things just pop out, especially after tours. There's hotel pads with just three lines on it, and then there's another with five pages worth! It just goes like that, in bursts, fits and starts. Then the music does similar... pieces come up and really do fit what l am trying to say. I think we capture that."

The group has finally captured the British press, aside from that confused soul who can't face their sheer perfection. "We've been getting really great reviews on this album. Which surprised us, because we really thought they were going to knife the shit out of us," Toni shivers with wide eyes. "It's the second album syndrome... it's a good thing, as it's a hump and you have to get over it. And if you can't get over it then you shouldn't be doing it," Toni dismisses. "But all the really highbrow stuff, like the Times, the Guardian, the Independent... they went wild! It was amazing! They just came walloping in with these half page reviews declaring this band is destined for stardom and all that kind of thing. That was really sweet. I wasn't expecting it!" she declares with complete happiness. "But actually, Doppelgänger was our second album, as we had done enough EP's to make an album before..."

What a marvellous method to confuse them all! Toni nods in playful agreement as we share another wicked laugh. A cabernet toast to that!

A subtle curve in logic like that is enough to make anyone jealous...

(article nicked from 'B Side', December 1993 / January 1994)