Robert Christie founded Oswald Five-O in 1989 as a vehicle to showcase a slew of songs that he had been writing while drumming in Snakepit. In putting the band together, musical talents was secondary to Robert's desire to find people he wanted to hang out with. He quickly impressed local poet and bon vivant, Gary Schartz and working man's drummer, Joe Brooks, into service. He also recruited rock and roll ingenue, Diane Beck, whoe previous musical experience was limited to two months of learning to play bass and a brief stint in the Eugene Gospel Choir. Diane remembers coming home one day a note that Robert had slipped under her door asking if she wanted to be in his new band. She checked the "yes" box and continued to play with Robert for the next eight years.
That first incarnation of Oswald was a slapdash, messed-up and beautiful thing to behold. Rob commanded the stage; his guitar slung low, staring in a mad daze over the heads of the audience, belting out song after song in an off-key caterwaul. Behind him Joe and Diane maintained the rhythm, while off to the side Gary shot about the stage like polka-dotted cyclone, squeezing out fractured metal leads. At their second show, a trembling Diane sang a few songs, adding a sweetness that smoothed out some of the band's rough edges. Singing together, Diane's voice was the creme missing in Robert's coffee. This line-up had a brief life, but within its span manage to record a single and make some tracks along the I-5 corridor (They once even made it as far as Canada, enduring a humiliating border search to play to an audience comprised of the member of Mecca Normal.) Things fizzled out after Joe left to play with Billy Jack and Gary grew tired of his equipment breaking down show after show.
It may have ended righ there if Diane and Rob did not meet Nick Tucker-a transplant to Eugene via Southern California and San Francisco. Nick learned punk rock in Palos Verdes, and then he drove down to Pedro. He came pedigreed with membership in a long line of hardcore bands all starting with the letter "D": Drunk and Disorderly, Decontrol, Dissonance (you get the idea). Robert subjected Nick to a rigorous tryout that involved playing basketball, eating pie, and coming over to his apartment for movies. Later, after deciding that Nick made the cut, Robert was chagrined to discover that Nick could really play. This new development changed everything. Robert decided, against his better judgment, to do what made sense and went back to playing drums, abdicating the frontline to Nick and Diane. And with that, Oswald's sound transformed from a homemade go-kart careening out of control to a freight train barreling down the tracks.
The second Oswald was a much more democratic outfit. Instead of only playing Robert's songs, Nick and Diane began to contribute in equal parts. The result was three distinct styles of songwriting that somehow fit together. But beyond just being bandmates, their lives grew together. For several years Nick and Diane lived in the same house, and Robert and his family just lived across the alley. This arrangement not only allowed them to practice regularly, but also give them a chance to spend time together - which they did often, playing catch int he alley and meeting for morning coffee. All of this made a recipte for a band that was built to last.
And last they did, for six years. They played often in Eugene at the old John Henry's club, Icky's Tea House, and in assorted dank basements. Also, despite jobs, college, and family, they continued traveling the well-worn path north and south on Interstate Five. In 1992, the band went on a summer tour with the Spinanes and Some Velvet Sidewalk that covered points far and wide, including Washington D.C., New York, Minneapolis, and, of course, Lawrence, Kansas. It was a typically low-budget affair. Oswald and Some Velvet Sidewalk traveled together in a VW Vanagon and Al showed up with nothing but the clothes on his back and a poncho. Fortunately, they made it home safely after spreading their "not afraid to suck" Eugene ethic to small pockets across the USA.
Oswald live was unpredictable but never boring . When they played things broke and people bled. Despite snapped strings, crackling amps, and splintered drumsticks, the band always played on--and the shows were everything fell apart were often their best. Their signatures were Nick and Diane's harmonies (again the sweet and the sour), Nick's spine-chilling deconstructed guitar solos, and the way Robert beat the hell out of his drum-kit. And, of course, there was also Robert's brilliant songwriting.
The band finally ended sometime in 1996 without drama or acrimony. Robert was a new father and less excited about traveling long distances to play and late nights at clubs. And Nick moved to New York to become a librarian.
The band released 2 full-length CD's on Grinning Idiot records, For Losers Only and Serenade. In 2006, Jealous Brothers records issued a very nice compilation of singles and orphans called Nothing to Prove.
