Itâs hard to believe Portland percussionist David âPapiâ Fimbres still has important things to learn in his chosen professional field, which could probably best be described as âlovable drummer for a million out-there bands.â
After all, this is a guy whoâs played in dozens of local projects over the past two decades: from the electro-funk group Singley Fimbres Orkestra to globally inspired dance band O Bruxo, and from instrumental fuzz-rock trio MĂĄscaras to Orquestra Pacifico Tropical, a traditionally minded cumbia collective. But Wet Fruit is a different animal altogether, Fimbres says.
âThis band really taught me how to hold back as a drummer,â he says. âWhen we recorded, I muted all the drums because I wanted it to have that â70s art-pop sound. And I was able to hold back and just listen to what the instruments are doing. That really allowed the music to flourish.â
Like many of Fimbresâ projects, Wet Fruit grew out of another band: Sun Angle, the psych-rock combo he shares with guitarist Charlie Salas-Humara, among others. When Sun Angle went on hiatus a few years ago, Fimbres and Salas-Humara kept getting together and playing, simply because it was fun and they missed doing it.
The result was a noisy two-piece built on the twin principles of improvisation and unbridled energy. While Fimbres attacked his drum kit, Salas-Humara would ânot focus and just shredâ on guitar, Fimbres says. Sometimes, theyâd add to the din with some distorted flute or droning viola.
âWe were like, âThis sounds really cool and abstract. Letâs just try to play this live and not rehearse,ââ Fimbres says. âSo we started booking shows and people came out and saw us and they were like, âWhoa, this shit is good!ââ
Their instincts told them, however, that Wet Fruit wasnât yet whole. So they brought in Elaina Tardif (Tender Age, Meringue) to play guitar and Rebecca Rasmussen (the Wild Body, Boink) on bass. Together the four started building on and around the bandâs early noise experiments, adding structure, vocals, and actual grooves.
âEveryone started singing and it started sounding beautiful, man,â Fimbres says. âI felt like it started getting a little Fleetwood Mac-y at times, with these beautiful harmonies and all the layering of instruments. Itâs very pretty, as opposed to the original incarnation, which was discombobulated and jankyâon purpose, but still.â
To be clear, no one is going to confuse Wet Fruitâs self-titled debut album with Rumours, but one trip through its seven tracks will reveal where and how the quartet has added an element of control to its chaos. Opening track âConceptualâ ends with a sweet ânâ sour coda of pretty vocal melodies draped over craggy guitar riffs. âGoodbaddogâ puts a bright and airy spin on post-punk. âSheetzâ sounds like a Xerox of a Xerox of a Kim Deal song that didnât make a Pixies album and was subsequently left out in the sun to melt. Album closer âWasted Future/Relaxed Truckerâ evolves from a skittering dream-pop song into an ominous, droning freak-out across its seven-minute run time.
Fimbres may have founded Wet Fruit with Salas-Humara, but he credits Tardif and Rasmussen with providing the counterbalance needed to corral the band into something concrete and captivating.
âCharlie and I are on the same wavelength as far as making music goes,â he says, âand we want to collaborate with people who have the same vibe so that we can learn from them and they can learn from us and thereâs a push and pull. I think thatâs one of the most important aspects of playing in a band with someone. Itâs truly like being in a relationship. You have to listen to them, understand, be patient, and be quietâbut speak up when you feel like you need to speak up. Itâs really fascinating and awesome to be a part of that.â
Wet Fruit recorded their self-titled album at Johann Wagnerâs Pinewave Studioâa âclear palette of imaginationâ in Oregon City, Fimbres saysâand is releasing the album through Seattle-based Halfshell Records. Thereâs more where that came from, too; recently, Wet Fruit rented a cabin near Estacada and spent two days writing and recording a whole second albumâs worth of material.
And hereâs no surprise at all: The new stuff is âa whole new tripâ for Wet Fruit, a group whose individual vision and creative collaboration work in pretty, strange, exciting, and unexpected ways.
âA friend of mine said each song on the album sounds like entirely its own thing, like theyâre different chapters of a book,â Fimbres says. âI was like, âFuck yeah, thatâs what I wanna do.â I never want to make an album that all sounds the same.â