Photo by OCW StaffThe sun filters through menacing clouds on a gloomy late afternoon in Buena Park, gilding an expansive back yard in a calming glow. Maybe it's this threat of rain that ensures the audience waiting to hear Augie—sisters María (drums) and Dianna (rhythm guitar) Pastrana, with Cathy Phan on lead—will never get bigger than 20. But the three girls have a different theory.
See, the trio used to constantly play garden concerts like today's twilight affair in their hometown Santa Ana—except hundreds, not tens, of people would go see them. In fact, the last time Augie played a house party in their city, the person keeping count of attendance gave up after 400.
But that was to be the last waltz. At the midnight witching hour, the police stopped the show by threatening everyone present with arrest if Augie continued to perform. This intimidation killed what was once a vibrant Santa Ana house party scene, and it forced Augie to play empty venues like this one. No wonder María looks back on the incident and says with a sigh, “I hate pigs.”
Disregarding that quote (but can you understand why they'd say it?), why the police would want to stop an Augie concert is incomprehensible. Politics isn't even part of the Augie equation, as they and their fans are some of the most charming kids emo ever produced. They're the type of band that writes songs based on All Quiet on the Western Front and Wuthering Heights. They focus on the tragic side of human relations, not the catastrophic. They're so sweet that Cathy and Dianna apologize to the audience whenever their equipment breaks (which happens frequently). They're the type of trio that can play a waltz and make it au courant. And Santa Ana police want to shut them down? They should stick to harassing the city's immigrants.
Augie started about four years ago when longtime friends Cathy and María joined a group as freshmen in high school, only to quickly quit.
“The two other guys in the band kept putting us in the background and wouldn't pay attention to us,” explains Cathy. “We wanted to do our own stuff, so we left.”
Cathy and María played as a duo for a while—think a mellower White Stripes that understands simple musical concepts like chords and talent—until the younger Dianna literally walked into one of their practice sessions and started jamming. She joined the group, but—according to Dianna—Cathy and María promptly kicked her out.
“You were not kicked out,” Cathy gently interrupts. “You just weren't developed enough yet.”
“Yes, I was!” Dianna insists.
Cathy beams.
“We have a connection that goes beyond the music,” she says. “It's just there. Even though I'm not related to María and Dianna, I consider them my sisters. So we can say stuff like that.”
And Augie's family ties transcend mere biology and friendship. The women get most of their influences and support from older brothers Leo Pastrana and Jimmy Phan, good friends with their own capable bands (respectively, the VWs and Where's Leo?). But Augie's music is all theirs.
They inject vitality into the moribund cliché “quiet intensity”; their sense of tempo—whether vocal, tonal or emotional—is almost symphonic. Both Cathy and Dianna twist out melancholy chords, exuberantly resigned to the fragility of sentiment. María's punchy drum playing, meanwhile, makes you quickly forget that her first drum kit was a pair of shoeboxes when she was 13. And Cathy's apprehensive, barely audible voice sweeps around the edges to keep it all together.
“After every show, we want to make more music,” says Maria. “Our music is therapeutic. It's the story of our lives.”
“We don't really care what other people think,” Cathy adds. Then she thinks about what she said. “Just as long as they're not mean.”
“Back in high school, this guy would keep playing my drum set, so one day, I told him, 'You better stop, or I'm going to kick your ass,'” Maria recalls. “Not only did he stop, but he also started to cry.”
So idiots beware: though each member has a different vision for Augie—Cathy is fine where they are; María dreams of club gigs; Dianna is happy she hasn't been kicked out again—the ladies also know that Augie will exist despite morons and police harassment.
“Our parents think of us being in a band as crazy,” says Maria.
“My dad makes sure that it's never more than just a hobby for me,” Cathy adds. “But it is. It's family.”
AUGIE PLAYS WITH TOOL FOR A BETTER PLUM, ELECTRIC PUSS, ¡¡LIBERTAD!!, TOXIC SHOCK SYNDROME AND CIVET AT THE GARDEN GROVE YOUTH DROP-IN CENTER, 12800 GARDEN GROVE BLVD., STE. F, GARDEN GROVE, (714) 590-3140. FRI., 7 P.M. $3. ALL AGES.
