(Veteran San Diego musician and promoter Mark Stern adds another band to the extended family.)
“I used to write, I used to draw, my name was once in print. Now I just can’t remember where all the promise went … ” — The Frame, “In the Streets”
To be clear, The Frame were not cool, nor especially well received when we played live. As three-chord wonders (sometimes two, sometimes one on “Triumph of the Will”) we were not mod, nor punk, despite hanging out within “the scene.”
We could not play our instruments well, were musically all over the map, didn’t have any semblance of a cohesive look, and co-ordinated/booked all our own shows. We invited other bands who could draw a crowd to play with us in order to get heard. Being broke, we would break into chem lecture halls at UCSD to practice. Sometimes we would just play outside on some UCSD loading dock that had a plug.
We would bug the college station there to play our demo, and would eventually book shows at the Che. We met through an ad in the Reader, and came together at this god-awful rehearsal space on University Ave. near 45th St.
The Frame comprised:
Jordan Faris, vocals
Chris Fite, guitar
Clifton Winnard, bass (Elaine Winnard’s older brother. She was mentioned on the blog recently)
Dave Anderson, drums (our one scenester in the group)
Mark Stern, guitar
Chris was our UCSD connection, as he was going with this woman who taught psychology there. He played a Stratocaster through a Marshall, loved The Clash and was very politically minded. I credit him with coming up with “The Frame,” a name perhaps he thought had both his ideals and Jordan’s love of The Doors in mind. Chris and I came up with the music for The Frame.
Clifton was the British guy who could drink a lot and was fairly shy. An English major at SDSU at the time, he was also hilarious and had great taste in music. He introduced me to odd-ball bands like The Fall. He played a Fender bass.
Jordan was unique. A bit of an outsider, an incredible illustrator and wordsmith, Jordan had a naturally grandiose voice. He was goofy, anti-fashion, and an all-around great guy. He was known to unabashedly worship Jim Morrison and The Doors, and didn’t care when told that it was obvious he was trying to emulate him. Jordan wrote all of the lyrics.
The Frame plays “In the Streets.” Listen now!
As a group, we had “the drummer problem” a lot of bands joke about. I don’t recall how we coerced Dave Anderson into playing for us, but I’m glad we did. Dave joined one rehearsal before we recorded our demo and I credit him for making what was essentially a very loose garage band into a band I’m proud to have been a part of 26 years later. I remember Dave being castigated by some of his mod friends for playing with us because we weren’t a mod band. Unfortunately for us, Dave was a highly sought-after drummer (as everyone knows) and left the group.
I was a junior at Mt. Carmel High in early 1983 when I met the others. I had “cut my hair” a year earlier and hung out with some of the North County/Poway crowd. I played a cheap Epiphone through a Music Man amp. My crowning achievement occurred when we played a gig with The Nephews at Club Zu and the entire bridge of my guitar evaporated mid-song. (Admitting my limits, I switched to bass later in life.)
Drawing from my experience setting up shows, after I left The Frame I booked shows for Faces of Drama, Hair Theatre and OC band Penguins Slept. I moved to Fullerton briefly and opened and booked a club called Big John’s with a high school friend, and returned to SD to book the all-ages New Generation club (those who can’t play sometimes book). I played in a band called The Pocket Venus (saw us, too, eh?) in 1989-90 and left San Diego in 1991.
I have no photos of The Frame, only the demo we did together and a few flyers. I recently played it for a 22-year-old co-worker who usually only likes rock-out-with-your-cock-out stuff. “I wouldn’t say it’s good,” he said, “but I can tell you guys did.” That about sums it up.
I was inspired to revisit The Frame after stumbling upon Matthew’s site. Matthew has created a place of visceral nostalgia for the folks who were a part of the scene from that time period. Personally, I would evaporate another guitar bridge given the chance.
— Mark Stern