Brett W. and Liam K. are unlikely best friends. While attending high school in Prineville, Brett ran with the cool kids. Liam ran
the cool kids. Add to that the fact that Liam kicked Brett out of his high-school band, and it would seem the friendship was doomed. But, as the Portland duo--which performs as electro-pop outfit the Snuggle Ups--recounts on the song "The Late '90s," everything worked out. You see, Liam realized that Brett "was the man" and then the friends "built a ship for two." The song is the cornerstone of the Snuggle Ups' debut album,
, a collection of unabashedly upbeat electronic tracks dripping with sentiments on love, lust and, most importantly, friendship.
CANNED HEAT: Some have dared to call the Snuggle Ups a karaoke act, pointing to the fact that Brett and Liam both sing over preprogrammed music. That they sing with the unchecked emotion of a drunk 43-year-old accountant belting out Boston's "More Than a Feeling" at Galaxy doesn't help them shake the tag. Brett and Liam don't have a band and they do pair their harmonies with over-the-top emotion, but the Snuggle Ups' emotional heft isn't borrowed. When Brett sings, "Love is like organic produce/ Once you've had it you can't get enough," you realize the only person who could deliver that line with both humor and deep conviction is the man who wrote it.
HOT PANTS: No matter how innocent their bouyant pop songs seem, the Snuggle Ups' sexuality plays a big part in their music. The two of them have become a favorite local band of a segment of the queer set. Brett does laughingly admit that he and Liam once played a "mildly homoerotic game of Truth or Dare at Liam's 12th birthday party." But both men say they are straight, and that speculation about their sexuality takes the focus off of the shows. "We played one show with Tracy and the Plastics," Liam says, referring to the Olympia queercore artist. "It was a huge crowd and a really receptive audience, and after we played, Tracy got up on stage and asked us if we were gay and kind of hoped that we were gay. For me, I was kind of bummed, because does it matter?"
ENDLESS LOVE: "I love what we do," says Liam, sitting across from Brett at the Virginia Cafe on a recent afternoon. "We love to make this music, we love to dance to it, and we love to sing it." Fidgeting with the nervousness of someone who either has to pee or can't quite express his enthusiasm completely, the tall, lanky musician is explaining away the apparent irony of the Snuggle Ups. The perception is understandable. It's not every day that two straight guys take the stage and extol the virtues of friendship to glitchy electro beats like a pair of speed-addled Care Bears. The songs do have an element of humor to them, but that humor isn't a mean-spirited attack on Top 40 pop. The Snuggle Ups' hand-holding charm, rather, grows out of a smirking self-awareness that they are saying things that hip twentysomethings ultimately feel, but would rather swallow their white belts than say out loud. As Liam notes, finishing his thought, "If there's any joke, it's on us."
STRAIGHT UP: Shocking but true: The genesis of the Snuggle Ups can be attributed to Paula Abdul. In the summer of 2003 Brett, Liam and some friends put together a tribute show for the early-'90s dance-pop queen. "There is nothing cool about Paula Abdul," says Brett. "But that was kind of the point. We wanted to have a show where we could all just be kind of dumb and dance." In that spirit Brett and Liam, who were both in different bands at the time, sat down the night before and wrote a song about the visceral experience of a carnival called "Ferris Wheel." That song is still a highlight of the duo's live shows today, featuring Liam's surprisingly soaring vocals and an infectious spare beat. They performed the song before their band even had a name, and the crowd loved it. "Honestly, all it's about is the dancing," Liam says. "We just want people to have fun."
The Snuggle Ups celebrate the release of Extremely Popular with the Thermals and DJ Beyonda Friday, Oct. 29, at Nocturnal, 1800 E Burnside St., 239-5900. 8 pm. $6. All ages.
WWeek 2015