311 remains part of music’s numbers game

Kirk Baird

Friday, Oct. 26, 2001 | 8:34 a.m.

Chad Sexton, 311's drummer, remembers exactly what he was doing the morning of Sept. 11. Sleeping.

Scheduled to perform that night with his band at Hard Rock's the Joint, Sexton was sacked out in his Las Vegas hotel room.

Then the phone rang. It was a friend telling him something was wrong.

Half-asleep, half in disbelief over what his friend said, Sexton got out of bed, turned on the TV and slipped into "this can't be happening" shock over the broadcast images he saw.

"Just like the rest of the country, I couldn't believe it," he said in a recent interview from Philadelphia. "It didn't sink in at first, then you realize how serious it is. It was just such a big event and it just keeps growing inside of each of our heads. It's a never-ending thought process."

The band made a quick decision, along with its promoter and city officials, to postpone that night's show, which was later rescheduled for Thursday.

But the following night in San Francisco, Sept. 12, the band performed as scheduled.

"It was pretty odd. It was even odd to feel that we would be playing a show that night," Sexton said. "Every time we play, it's almost like a celebration. I didn't feel like playing and celebrating that night. I felt a little weird about it."

Once the band took the stage, however, he said those weird feelings quickly dissipated, as he discovered the concert was cathartic for both band and audience alike.

"It was obvious to me that people needed that outlet. The energy off the kids was enormous," Sexton said. "During the encore, instead of shouting, '311,' they were shouting, 'U.S.A.' "

This new patriotic gesture has become quite common to the band's shows, he said. But it shouldn't come as a surprise; fans have been feeding off the good vibes of 311 since the band formed more than a decade ago in Omaha, Neb. (The band name, incidentally, is the Omaha police code for indecent exposure.)

The band has always maintained an upbeat, simplistic outlook.

"I think if you think positive and live life in a positive way, you're probably going to be happy. Otherwise, you're always bickering or full of hate or finding someone else to blame," Sexton said. "Of course everyone goes through problems, but (being positive) is a way of life we started living as teenagers."

That shared feeling of optimism along with a mutual love of music is what brought 311 together in the first place, he said.

They're also what's kept 311 together: through the early hardships common among bands trying to make it big; as well as some not-so-common tribulations, such as when the group's RV caught on fire on the side of a highway, taking the quintet's instruments, money, clothes and other belongings with it.

The group also struggled with a career that, at least in the first five years or so, never seemed to go beyond opening-act status.

That is, until '96, when the band scored hits with "Down" and "All Mixed Up." Along with that success, came such perks as recognition as a musical trailblazer: one of the first groups to bridge the gap from rock to rap, along with metal and funk.

"We're very honored to be associated with that group of rap-rock pioneers, along with the (Red Hot) Chili Peppers and Pep Squad," Sexton said. "I'm glad we could open the doors for that style of music, a collaborative style of music."

Even with the accolades, 311 hasn't necessarily found increased success in record sales. The band's latest album, "From Chaos," has yet to reach gold status since its mid-June release, even with a No 10 debut on Billboard.

Sexton, however, isn't too concerned.

"We're fortunate enough to be able to be able to write our own music, even if it's not accepted on a 12-million album-sales basis," he said. "It's up to the awareness of the people to look for stuff that's creative and might sound a little different."