“Every so often you trip up or tumble over something which is so very excellent it lights up your heart and might just save your soul – the music of Wild Colonials is one of those rare somethings…”
– DETOUR

“Over the years you've heard a voice but, may not know the name of the singer. If you've ever been to a great bar, a cool café or your favorite restaurant, you've heard her voice. Her name is Angela McCluskey.”
– MICHAEL STIPE

“…hauntingly beautiful …a gorgeous and intimate blend of pop and traditional folk…”
- CMJ

“The striking vocals of Angela McCluskey will make you remember the first time you heard Miles blow his horn or Billie sing the blues…”
- HITS

“…melding rock, classical, folk, Celtic, and soul elements with wisps of country, rockabilly, gypsy, jazz, and swing – you name it, they make it work…”
– RayGun

Since the early 90’s the Wild Colonials have been charming music critics and audiences alike with their eclectic rock sound. From the low blow of a Didgeridoo to the sweet rub of a violin, to experience the music of Wild Colonials is to take a step into a realm of rock where most dare not go, yet pull it off brilliantly.

Their story began in early 1992 at an Irish pub in Los Angeles called Café Beckett. Singer Angela McCluskey had gathered together a group of fellow musicians to arrange a “musical evening” to showcase her friend/guitarist Shark, who had recently relocated to Los Angeles. Brought aboard were Paul Cantelon, on violin and piano; Scott Roewe, on bass, keyboards, and saxophone; and other special guests. The “musical evening” evolved into a regular gig from the group soon to be known as Wild Colonials - named after the Irish song “Wild Colonial Boy.”

From Café Beckett the group developed a large following which allowed it to move to larger venues. The buzz that developed in the LA music scene procured the Colonials a record deal with Geffen Records. Fruit of Life (1994) and This Can’t Be Life (1996) were both released to critical acclaim, landing the group as the second stage headliner on the prestigious Lilith Fair lineup in 1997. Over that time, Wild Colonials – either as a group or as individual artists - have lent their musical talents to the great art of film - which brings us to their most recent creation.

Their third album (released through Chromatic Records), appropriately titled Reel Life Vol. #1, marks another stage in the life and times of Wild Colonials. Featuring songs and scores recorded and composed for films from Disney’s Mr. Wrong, to the quirky Indie sensation Flirting With Disaster and the Sundance Film Festival hit Dead Man’s Curve, their scores and soundtrack selections are as eclectic as the Wild Colonials themselves.

"Though I'd sung backup for friends' bands, singing was the last thing I thought I would do," she relates. "And I'd always wanted to sing - I figured I'd do it when I was 50, sing jazz or something. But it got overwhelmingly annoying that I wasn't doing what I wanted to do; I was always making other people's dreams come true and never really expressing myself. It was easier than doing my own work.

"Then I came to America and instead of saying, 'I'm a film publicist,' I just said, 'I'm a singer.' And the American Dream literally happened. I mean, I had to work hard, get a club show together and do a lot of stuff, but at the same time, over here you hear a lot more yes's than no's. People say, 'So you can do that? Let me see you,' rather than, 'Oh, get a life. Get a real job,' which is very Scottish." Also very Scottish, according to Angela, is the ability to sing. "I grew up singing," she says. "My parents would have these parties on Saturday nights. They'd play the Beatles and Rolling Stones, and Andy Williams. And everyone would sing and dance. I used to sing so I could stay up late. I'd do 'Summertime' or something and then they'd throw me back in bed. Singing's just not a big deal there, so nobody ever turns 'round and goes, 'You know what? You should sing when you grow up." Still, Angela took a chance on overcoming that attitude.

Paul took his chance on violin. He'd given up the instrument at four to focus on piano. The son of a trumpeter with the Philadelphia Symphony (his mother) and a traveling evangelist, Paul was born in Glendale, Calif., but has spent much of his life in Europe. At 12 he began classical piano study at the Paris Conservatory.

A devastating bicycle accident in his late teens, however, resulted in extensive memory loss, which forced him to learn how to play all over again. Then, when he and Angela began working together, he returned to the violin out of necessity. "He arrived at my house on his bike one day with his electronic keyboard and a tiny violin case," Angela elucidates. "Lugging this keyboard around to gigs was a nightmare. I pointed at the violin and said, 'Why don't you play that instead?' He didn't want to; I had to force him. It meant a lot of work."

A native of Wilmington, Del., Scott Roewe also comes from a musical clan. "We had a family band, just like the Partridge Family," he reports. "I started out on bongos, then picked up the recorder in about third grade." But he later switched to saxophone, "because it had a lot of keys on it. The trumpet only had three valves; it seemed too easy."

While working as a video editor and film and television composer (he wrote the theme for TV's "Rescue 911"), Scott cast his lot with the bass after hooking up with Angela and Paul in L.A. As with Paul's return to the violin, expedience dictated his decision. "I started out playing piano to fill out the sound, then bass parts on an electronic keyboard. So I thought, 'I'm playing all these bass parts; I may as well play bass.' That's how I ended up playing all the other instruments, too - I just do whatever works with the song. Playing didgeridoo or pennywhistle adds spice to the music."

Thaddeus Corea took a chance on Wild Colonials when he answered the call for a tour drummer (numerous guest drummers had appeared on the band's debut). Thad had played trumpet and piano as a child, but he was seduced away from those instruments by a blonde Gretsch drum kit he saw hanging from the ceiling of a Wurlitzer music store. "It was calling to me," he remembers. "So I begged Pops (jazz legend Chick Corea) to buy it for me and he did. I started torturing my mother, practicing to a ten-stack of Super Hits of the '70s on the record changer. She'd be washing dishes in the kitchen, yelling, 'You didn't get that fill right. Go back and get that fill right.'"

All along, Angela had turned to her voluminous collection of poetry for inspiration. "When we write songs, I'll pull the poems from everywhere," she says, "from under the couch, in the bedroom, the kitchen drawer, from my bag. I started writing poems at school. When these guys were really miserable growing up, they probably got in the bedroom and just beat up their sax or violin or piano; whenever I was really miserable, I would write. And Scotland is a stoic place; you don't express yourself. So I think poetry's a big outlet there, though everyone does it kind of secretly."

Says Shark of the band's collaborative songwriting method: "Paul will play some 16th century Gypsy folk riff, which I'll find really exotic, or I'll start playing some old country riff and someone will say, 'Ooh, what's that?' Scott will just pick up whatever instrument seems appropriate, Thad will start trying out rhythms, Angie will pluck
something out of her bag of poems and start singing a melody, and it just goes from there. Since we all come from different musical backgrounds, we're not fighting for the same light or the same space."

Reflecting on the disparate musical strains that have converged in Wild Colonials' singular sound, Angela can only wonder, "How did this band ever come to be?" Maybe it was pure chance. The question will surely be irrelevant to both fans and the newly initiated. As Shark says, "Better just to feel the magic than try to figure it out."

For interview requests, press materials and/or more information on WILD COLONIALS contact the Wild Life Preservation Society at wildnotes@aol.com.