By Terrence McCoy
By Scott Fishman
By Deirdra Funcheon
By Allie Conti
By New Times Staff
By Ryan Pfeffer
By Deirdra Funcheon
By Kyle Swenson
As Fogarino's career took off, Chuck Loose decided to wind down his musical life. "It was liberating," Loose declares. "I didn't have to baby-sit anyone. I could enjoy playing music again." Freed from the pressure of making it, he spent the late 1990s drumming in local acts the Drug Czars, Gargirls, and Siesta Trailer Park before hooking up with the Heatseekers in 2001.
Loose's priorities were concentrated on the burgeoning graphic-design company, Snap-E-Chuck, which he had started three years before. "I was working at one printing place after another," he says, "and at each place, I'd pick up a couple of freelance clients who wanted more than what the print shop could do for them. When I got sick of one place, I'd show up to the next design company with my portfolio, and I'd get the job." After doing time constructing Arizona Ice Tea and Frappucino ads, Loose had struck out on his own and started Snap-E-Chuck out of his Oakland Park home in 1998.
Rob Coe grew restless after his first year grinding out ten-hour shifts at Universal Music. In 2001, he bought an acoustic guitar and ventured into L.A.'s open-mike scene. Testing new material at dive bars whetted his appetite for destruction, so he concocted the Enablers, a sonic barrage reminiscent of Cell 63. They began a month-long residency at L.A. hotspot the Garage. The band members wore T-shirts embossed with Robert Downey Jr.'s booking photo on the front and, on the rear, a pyramid that included the phrase "To Thy Own Ruin Be True." Word of their triumphant run in Los Angeles spread to England, where indie label Newest Industry signed the band. "I feel blessed," Coe smiles. "This will be my seventh record."
Fogarino and Interpol recently hosted MTV's late-night alt-rock showcase 120 Minutes, marking just how far the drummer has come from his sister's couch. "This wasn't the way I planned it," he understates. "Ideally, I would have stayed in Fort Lauderdale, formed my band, and taken it on the road. But it didn't turn out that way." With that in mind, he refuses to plan his career or speculate how long it will last. But Fogarino was recently encouraged when he met the members of seminal U.K. proto-punk legends Wire, who are all in their 50s. "I thought playing forever would be gross, but their new record is amazing, and they looked dignified. Those guys look their age. If it retains some quality and dignity, I'll play until my arms fall off."