It really irks me that you can’t read one single article about Steve Poltz without the writer mentioning a certain, famous, singer songwriter who co-wrote Poltz’s biggest hit. This particular female singer songwriter, who also lives in San Diego, went on to super-stardom -- and now you can’t find one goddamn article about Steve Poltz that doesn’t mention this Diamond that helped him scramble out of the San Diego rough.

Actually, it was he that helped her.

Just peruse his so-called fan-sites on the web. The biographies always begin with Poltz information, like, "He was born in Halifax, Nova Scotia. He attended the University of San Diego. He sold plumbing supplies. He was an altar boy. He’s really, really cute (tee hee). He roamed Europe in the early 80’s as a street musician," and so forth. Then you get to the part -- usually about a 1/4 way through -- about when he met this certain San Diego singer songwriter whose name escapes me at the moment, and suddenly, somehow, it becomes a biography about her -- with links to her fan-sites that are much bigger than his links, and photos of her that are much bigger than the photos of Steve.

And though their relationship hasn’t hurt his record sales any (or his mack-daddy status for that matter) I can’t help but wonder if the world only knows him as, "That cute guy in that video by that famous singer songwriter from San Diego."

Steve Poltz deserves an article without any mention of her and that confounded song they wrote together. Like, for instance, that he is about to form his own record company; or that his first solo album garnered 3.5 stars in Rolling Stone; or how he formed the legendary San Diego college/club-cult band The Rugburns.

The Rugburns were born when Steve Poltz returned to San Diego from Europe in 1982 and hooked up with his friend, and fellow USD student, Dr. Robert Driscoll. They started playing cover tunes in clubs as an acoustic guitar duo.

They soon realized, however, that "cover band" is usually a synonym for gutless bullshit, so they began writing their own tunes which turned out to be the antithesis of gutless: It was all guts. Guts was the point. They ruled the San Diego club and coffee house circuit, howling or crooning about such inanities, absurdities, and atrocities from their four studio cassettes such as "Uncle Reggie’s Pantyhose", "I Like Bananas", "Frankie’s Cow", "My Carphone’s on the Pill", "Gold’s Gym Guy", "Rub Somebody," or Skyfuckingline of Toronto."

The press described the Rugburns as "Acoustic based rock." Poltz described them as, "Really slow speed metal."  I published an article that began, "The Rugburns sound like the primordial, licentious grunts of Roger Miller, George Carlin, Tom Waits, Leonard Cohen, and Steve Forbert in a drunken, gay orgy."

But I kid the Rugburns.

In the late 80’s The Rugburns went large. Dr. Driscoll switched to electric guitar and they added two more players -- Gregory Page (bass), and Stinky (drummer). Then they started releasing CD’s; beginning with 1994’s release of Morning Wood on Bizarre/Planet records; followed by the utterly disturbing 1995 EP, Mommy I’m Sorry. In 1995, radio stations around the country began playing "Hitchhiker Joe," and "Me and Eddie Vedder."

Their success was slow, steady and conspicuous, inspiring the title of their next album, Taking the World by Donkey (1995). Indeed, it did seem they were going to take over the world, even it would take some time.

Too much time, perhaps, for Steve Poltz. In 1997, Poltz went solo. It was a good move. He released one of his finest albums: One Left Shoe. He won "Best Acoustic Artist" , "Artist of the Year", and "Influential Artist of the Decade" at 10th annual San Diego Music Awards. He continues to gather an ever increasing following of fans from around the world. And he is still -- and this is key -- having a blast. Just watch him on stage.

EJD 8/2001