The California Honeydrops
are certainly a party
band capable of working a
festival-size crowd into a frenzied
freak-out. In fact, even the Bay
Area quintet’s website proclaims
it. Yet, there is something
incomplete, perhaps trivializing,
about describing a group whose
story began in the bowels of
Oakland, Calif., busking in a
BART subway station, in such
a simplistic way.
“We take the music that we
play and the sources that we
take from really seriously, out
of respect,” explains Lech
Wierzynski, singer, trumpeter,
guitarist and leader of the
Honeydrops. “Also because of
the racial history of the music—
the music has so much history,
and it’s been abused.”
While growing up, the native
of Poland found the work of
older artists—particularly his
father’s Louis Armstrong and
Ray Charles records—to be
majestic and too often watereddown
by others’ interpretations.
As a youth, he felt pressure to
acclimate following his
immigration to the United
States, and his love for American
music became a point of entry.
“I got deeper into it because
I was more desperate,”
Wierzynski says with a laugh.
He studied ethnomusicology at
Oberlin College before making
his way west to Oakland, where
he’s remained for just over a
decade.
The California Honeydrops
formed in 2007 as a racially
mixed jug-band trio playing
street corners and train stops,
with Wierzynski drawing his
inspiration for their moniker
from the Tennessee Chocolate
Drops, a 1930s African-American
foursome who backed blues
legends like Big Bill Broonzy.
“I realized, at some point,
this might be limiting to us,”
recalls Wierzynski, on the
name’s association with the
Golden State and its jug-band
beginnings. “When we started
it, the band was strictly for fun.
We stopped playing that type of
music altogether, but it was just
too late.”
Rather rapidly, fun turned
into success, with shows
booked at home and abroad,
and a new set of problems that
ultimately shaped the current
ensemble’s musical approach.
“Giving a tub bass to a sound
guy was a nightmare,” admits
Wierzynski. “The horrors of
modern playing threw us into
using electric instruments, into
modern sound systems that
forced us into something that
was a little more controllable.”
What materialized is an
infectious merger of blues, funk,
and recently, danceable New
Orleans second-line rhythms.
“There is a certain heart of the
band, which is making a wild
party happen,” Wierzynski says.
“Making it spontaneous, too.”
He takes pride in his role
as a buster of inhibitions, and
there have been those few
more reluctant to let go,
flipping a less enthusiastic
energy back on the band.
“That’s the hardest thing about
what we do, and because of
that, we don’t make setlists,”
reveals Wierzynski. “Honestly,
that makes it a challenge and
exciting every night.”
Though the group’s
popularity is expanding, it is
refreshing that Wierzynski
doesn’t necessarily believe that
a bigger party is a better one. In
order to stay in touch with their
roots, The California Honeydrops
have spent part of the year on a
“down-home” tour, playing
barns, basements and even
school fundraisers. “It was an
amazing recharge for us,”
Wierzynski offers. “We love the
shows where there is no stage.”
Still, with a variety of
summer festival
appearances slated and
a new album, A River’s
Invitation, set for
October—which
includes elements
of psychedelia—
Wierzynski is aware
of the band’s growing
diverse fanbase, and
that some adjustments
are required. “With
festivals in particular,
especially within the
jamband world, we
have to do totally
different things,” he
concedes with a grin.
“Sing-alongs aren’t so
good for people on
acid. It’s too much to
ask.”