Copyright 1991 Gannett Company, Inc.    
GANNETT NEWS SERVICE
June 28, 1991, Friday
LENGTH: 675 words
HEADLINE: POP IS THE BACKBONE OF 'JELLYFISH'
BYLINE: TROY MOON; Pensacola News Journal
BODY:

     Who said Supertramp was lame?
     Not Jellyfish.
     ''When we were little kids, that's what we were hearing on our
little AM radios that we got for Christmas,'' says Andy Sturmer,
vocalist, songwriter and drummer for the San Francisco-based
Jellyfish.
     But that's not all the four members of Jellyfish were hearing,
judging by the influences on their lite-trippy debut album,
''Bellybutton.'' 
     The album is pure pop, a product of the early morning TV and
AM radio generation that grew up on the Bee Gees, The Archies,
Josie and the Pussycats, The Banana Splits, The Partridge Family,
Queen and Supertramp.
     ''We love pop music,'' Sturmer says by phone from Manchester,
England. ''It had a bad reputation, but we think it's time to make
the world safe for pop music again.''
     Manchester is the home of England's latest British Invasion,
the psychedelic revival led by the Stone Roses, the Happy Mondays,
the Charlatans U.K. and EMF. Though the Manchester bands use the
'60s as their base, Jellyfish is a product of the much more f
un '70s and the band members are still trying to fit.
     ''Yeah, we're just taking Ecstasy, shaking maracas and acting
groovy,'' Sturmer says, half-joking. ''Everything you're supposed
to do over here.
     But beyond the wisecracks, the '70s cartoon influences and the
much- talked-about clothes, far-out multicolored floppy high hats,
platform shoes, flair ''76'' pants from the bicentennial
celebration, and gaudy beads and chains, Jellyfish is a hard-workin
g pop-rock band that writes and plays great, catchy (dare we say
''radio-friendly) songs. It's a point that's often overlooked.
     ''People see us or look at our picture and they think it's a
joke,'' Sturmer says. ''But if they listen to the music they'll see
some great stuff. Not all of it's so carefree. The first song, 'The
Man I Used to Be' (about a father-son relationship) is ve
ry introspective. We can write good, poppy songs and we can write
bashing songs like the Replacements.''
     Jellyfish is not the first band Sturmer has been with that has
cut an album. He played in Beatnik Beach, along with Jellyfish
keyboardist and guitarist Roger Manning, when the band released an
album on Atlantic Records in 1987. But the album flopped and 
the band found out it wasn't a top priority with the label as far
as promotion goes.
     The mini-legend goes that when Manning was on the phone
talking to someone in the lower level of management at Atlantic,
the record company representative was told by a superior to get off
the phone and to start working on Debbie Gibson's birthday cake.
     But things were different with Jellyfish. In fact, after the
release of a demo tape, the band found itself in the middle of a
huge bidding war during the recording of ''Bellybutton.'' Eleven
different labels wanted to add Jellyfish to their rosters.
     ''It was incredibly flattering at first,'' Sturmer said.
''Presidents of record companies were calling us and wanting to
take us out for lobster dinners. But it got tiresome. We'd be
trying to record, and would have everything set up and then another
rec
ord company person would come by and want to schmooze with us.''
     The demo tape also caught the ear of veteran producer Albhy
Galuten, who produced '' Saturday Night Fever,'' one of the most
successful albums in music history, as well as albums by Eric
Clapton and Kenny Rogers.
     ''It was funny. I talked to Albhy on the phone. He lived in
Los Angeles and said he was going to fly to San Francisco to see
me,'' Sturmer says. ''Someone knocked on my door and when I
answered, it was some transient in ripped jeans and a ripped
T-shirt.
 He looked like Jesus with a big nose. I wanted to tell him to get
off my porch, because I was expecting some big-time record
producer. But then he introduced himself and it was Albhy.''
     A real product of the '70s music scene meeting a youngster who
swears by the sounds from that decade. How did the two get along?
     ''He came inside and we talked about music for 10 minutes,''
Sturmer said. ''Then we watched TV for about two hours.''