“Automatic Girl”
from the album I Don’t Know You
2004
iTunes
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John Balicanta learned that music is a powerful way to deliver a message long before he founded the New York City-based alt-pop band Lola Ray. When he ran for fourth-grade class president, he lip-synched Bell Biv DeVoe’s “Poison” as his campaign speech and won.
“That’s when I knew I wanted to be in a band,” he says.
Balicanta’s band dreams got a whole lot bigger last year when he landed a deal with DC Flag, the label owned by Benji and Joel Madden of pop-punk sensation Good Charlotte.
At the time, Balicanta had almost an album’s worth of songs written and recorded and had just recruited two old friends, guitarist Brian Spina and bassist James McIvor. The trio had been in Balicanta’s first band when they were high school students in Orange County, CA. With new drummer Alex Smolinski, the group was reborn as Lola Ray.
Last year they released their debut album I Don’t Know You and found themselves in the spotlight’s glare, thanks to their Good Charlotte ties. The association has been a mixed blessing. Any young band is glad for attention, yet Balicanta is frustrated that Lola Ray gets dubbed pop punk because of its record label.
As it happens, their debut is more quirky and wry than a straight-ahead punk release — much like a conversation with Balicanta. It features a plucky earnestness and deft tempo shifts that keep the songs fresh, even though the album has a familiar Southern California ska-flavored bounciness.
Album opener “Plague (We Need No Victims)” highlights Balicanta’s infectious vocal hooks over windmilling guitar, while “Our Brown Friends” is smart cultural commentary with an agile midtempo strut. While songs like “One By One” lack the flourishes of the album’s most successful numbers, the band seems determined to develop its songwriting chops and sound.
It was Balicanta’s devotion to craft — as well as his high energy and knack for catchy melodies — that convinced producer Jon Kaplan that the musicians had talent worth cultivating. Balicanta was an intern at Dumbo Studios in New York when studio partners Kaplan and Peter Robinson took him under their wing.
“Out of all the people that I’ve worked with, he’s one of the guys I would describe more as an artist,” Kaplan said. “I don’t worry about him being stuck in a genre and disappearing.”
Still, the band is struggling to find its niche. Balicanta admits that its current opening slot for the reggae-tinged rock band Pepper has been tough.
Regardless, the exposure gives the politically minded frontman hope of reaching as many people as possible with a musical message of tolerance.
“Everyone harps on the idea of ignorance, but people hate because it feels good to hate, and I can’t stand that,” he said. “Everybody is so self-righteous and has their own line of thought — and if you waver anywhere outside of those lines, you can’t be loved, and that’s a bummer.”