Receive Weekly Email and Text Message Updates:
Sign up for latest info on concerts, dining, promotions and more!
Go!

Most Popular

  • Getting Off
    Attorney Tyler Flood says he wins 80 percent of his clients' DWI trials, even if they were 100 percent drunk as a skunk.
  • City of Coffee
    Is Houston about to become America's coffee capital?
  • Looking for a Bull Market
    Killen's Steakhouse in suburban Pearland is probably best during boom times.
  • BBQ Buffet
    Korea Garden Grille offers a stellar selection of barbecue items in unlimited quantities — and new and interesting ways to eat them.
  • Enough About Mi
    Is the authentic little Vietnamese noodle shop Banh Cuon Hoa #2 too adventurous for your tastes?
Most Popular sponsored by

Reader's Picks

Top Recommendations

A short list of Houston's most popular hot spots.
user content provided by: LikeMe.net & Houston Press

National Features >

  • City Pages

    Michele Bachmann, Unmuzzled

    You don't need to read Sarah Palin's book to hear the ravings of a mad woman.

    By Matt Snyders

  • Miami New Times

    Pimp Daddy

    The rise and fall of a chubby sex-cult leader.

    By Natalie O'Neill

  • Riverfront Times

    Babe 'n' Arms

    Tom was a hot-tempered cross-dresser with a garage full of guns--and then he became Rachel.

    By Nicholas Phillips

Reservation Blues

Indigenous's rock springs from the deepest roots in North America

Share

  • rss

By Bob Ruggiero

Published on April 26, 2001

In Native American folklore and art, the circle often illustrates the continuum of life (What? You were thinking of The Lion King?). So it's only appropriate that the Native American blues-rock band Indigenous would title its sophomore effort Circle. Released last year on Pachyderm Records, the album has garnered a solid buzz for the group made up of three siblings and a cousin. But a circle of another sort is on the mind of guitarist and lead singer Mato Nanji. He recalls the first time Indigenous played Houston, as part of the 1999 B.B. King Blues Festival held on the Arena Theatre's infamous revolving stage.

"Yeah, I remember that one! It was pretty weird," Nanji laughs, speaking from his home in Rapid City, South Dakota. "It just kept going around and around, and I got pretty dizzy after awhile. That was the first time we'd ever played on something like that."

This time around, the group will be on a more stationary stage as Nanji, brother Pte (bass), sister Wanbdi (drums) and cousin Horse (percussion) continue to tour behind Circle. Produced by the equally talented and ubiquitous Austin singer/songwriter/ drummer Doyle Bramhall, it's a scorcher in the grand tradition of that city's famous blues-rock exports. It's also a vast improvement over Indigenous's first effort, Things We Do, an inauspicious debut that offered tepid rhythms and brief, generic lyrics.

The upgrade, Nanji says, was just part of the band's maturation. "We were just 21 or 22 when we did [Things We Do], so we were still digging around from influences. It was a starting point." Bramhall's contributions to Circle, he adds, gave the group the guidance it needed.

"We felt that he had a lot to offer [to] help us bring our own sound together. And he added a lot musically," says Nanji. The collaboration between Indigenous and Bramhall grew out of a show in which they shared the bill, but the fact that Bramhall frequently worked with Stevie Ray Vaughan, whom Nanji somewhat resembles in singing and playing style, probably figured into the decision as well.

Circleopens with the blistering "Little Time," hinting at some of the fire and fury to come in "You Left Me This Mornin'," "Stay with Me," "Seven Steps Away" and "Waiting for You." What's more, Nanji's guitar lines are much more fluid and interesting this time out, and the lyrics (while still mired in traditional bluesy imagery) show similar growth.

Those expecting lyrical laments about the plight of the Native American might be surprised to find those sentiments wholly absent. For while the band is distinctly proud of its ethnicity -- and Nanji admits it's a good publicity hook -- Indigenous no more wants to be known as the "Indian blues band" than Living Colour wanted to be the "black rock band" or the Beastie Boys the "white rap band."

"I think … we just take it as it comes in terms of that. It's who we are, and we're happy with that. But our first [priority] is to be a great blues-rock band," Nanji says. "How we grew up really doesn't affect that." So don't expect any tunes about the Trail of Tears or any other Native American History for Dummiestopics on the next record.

The heritage that did influence Indigenous was much more immediate: It came in the form of Greg and Beverly Zephier, parents of three quarters of the group. Growing up on the Yankton Indian Reservation (population around 2,000) near tiny Marty, South Dakota, in the '80s, Nanji (the oldest) was immersed in the popular music of the day -- even Duran Duran. Though he originally wanted to be a drummer ("My mom used to set up cans for me to beat and stuff"), he soon discovered his musician father's guitar, bass and amplifiers in the basement. Like any curious child, Nanji tried on the big guitars for size.

Greg Zephier was far from unhappy to discover his son's interest in music. He began teaching Nanji the rudiments of guitar and turned him on to his vast lode of LPs, richly streaked with glittering veins of Hendrix, Clapton, Jimmy Reed, the Kings (B.B., Albert and Freddie) and Carlos Santana, who re-enters the story years later.

Under the Zephiers' direction, Pte, Wanbdi and Horse began similar apprenticeships (an older sister, who played keyboards, later left to start a family). After endless rehearsals, the band's first performance was at a reservation bingo hall for family and friends. More woodshedding and gigs later (often with Mom and Dad joining them on stage), they decided to go pro. "That was our parents' decision, too," Nanji notes, unfazed at any hints of parental stage-managing. "They told us when we were ready." (Sadly, Greg Zephier died two years ago, and Circle is dedicated to both parents.)

The first big break for Indigenous came in 1997, when Indigo Girl Amy Ray invited the band to Minnesota's Pachyderm Recording Studios to contribute a track to her Honor the Earth benefit CD. Catching the ears of a Pachyderm producer and an A&R man, the group quickly recorded what would become the title track to Things We Do, even making a video with director Chris Eyre, who also helmed the acclaimed Native American-themed film Smoke Signals.

1   2   Next Page »