Eric Atria of Morningbell

Tuesday, 23 February 2010 15:44

Eric Atria zooms into the Reitz Union loading dock and quickly unloads two cars full of equipment.

By Tyler Francischine; Photos by Thomas Gaard and John Davisson

“Make sure they don’t bring the carts down the ramp—that makes no sense, leave them on the stairs,” he calls out to no one in particular. Several girls wait with carts to take Morningbell’s equipment to the Orange and Brew for the show.

Eric points out which equipment goes where and races off to park the car. He’s back minutes later, rushing to open doors for the girls.

“You guys should come on the road with us,” he says. “We pay in sandwiches.”

Eric, who plays bass, and his Morningbell bandmates have one hour before they play. They’re closing the show, but fans are already cramming onto the venue’s small floor.

Travis Atria, Eric’s younger brother who sings and plays guitar, sits in an overstuffed chair in the corner, his head leaned back comfortably and his eyes closed though Wait, Wait is playing loud, thumping garage rock on the nearby stage. Eric sits next to him, his head bent and his fingers pounding on his iPhone. His crossed legs are jerking to the music, exposing one argyle sock.

When it’s time for Morningbell to play, Eric paces the stage, making sure everyone’s microphones work. Then they start – soft, just maracas and a grooving bass line. The volume builds and the band sets off into a rolling, poppy, Beatles-esque tune. Travis sings, “Let’s not lose our heads” over and over again, turning the words into a mantra, lifting his arms up as the music swells.

Eric plays a Rickenbacker, the kind Paul McCartney played in the Magical Mystery Tour era. There’s a red rose embroidered on his bass strap, and it moves up and down his shoulder when he plays. When he plays the theremin, a sci-fi sounding electronic instrument, the rose disappears behind him as his thrusts his bass high in the air.

Eric uses a foot pedal to produce flashing and strobe lighting effects during the performance. At any given moment, even between songs, his hands and feet are moving, adjusting, making sure.

Eric is the methodic, driven unspoken leader of Morningbell, Gainesville’s biggest indie act. He also plays in The Shitty Beatles, a cover band that draws crowds of hundreds. Both acts have sold out Common Grounds, and sometimes Eric and his bandmates play as both acts in one night.

He sports short black hair and wireless glasses and takes his shoes off anywhere, including Leonardo’s Pizza. When he switches positions, which he did seven times during an interview, one black sock peeps out and disappears under the table again.

Eric’s the band member who handles all the business. Five years ago, he created his own record label. Orange Records of Gainesville records other big-name local acts like Michael Claytor and His Friends.

“He gets shit done,” his wife of six years and bandmate, Stacie Atria, says. “If he gets an idea in his mind, he’s going to do it by the end of the day.”

Eric describes himself as committed. “Whatever it is, I’m going to finish it – I’m not necessarily going to clean up after myself, but I’m going to finish it.”

Travis lived with Eric for 25 years. He says Eric is “the band mother.” Eric figures out the directions and the money and his bandmates just follow.

“Not because we can’t do all that,” he adds, “but we don’t have to.”

Eric works as a public defender for The Regional Conflict Council. He visits clients in jail, goes to court and investigates crime scenes in town and out west in Gilchrist County.

Eric’s also Morningbell’s unofficial manager. He says he’s the public face of the band, and he maintains their online accounts. Right now, he’s booking their summer tour.

His tenacity comes at a cost, though – he can’t sit still.

“A while ago, I asked him to go to a yoga class with me,” Stacie says. “We were relaxing and everyone looked serene, but Eric wasn’t enjoying himself.”

Midway through the class, Eric walked out.

“That kind of sums him up,” Stacie says, “although he’s made it through a couple classes now.”

In between Morningbell and Shitty Beatles practices, which Eric holds at his house Saturdays, Eric’s cleaning the kitchen counters with a sponge and disinfectant.

“This is the other side of rock ‘n’ roll,” he jokes as he moves to the stovetop. “This is how you make the hits.” Meanwhile, his bandmates are on the couches taking a break.

Eric stops cleaning when Travis puts on The Tonight Show with Conan O’Brien. Will Ferrell’s performing “Freebird.” Eric switches positions three times during that ten minute clip, from the couch and down to the floor with Arlo, the dog.

Travis says Eric’s drive can make him controlling.

“Eric’s the type of person who will walk into someone’s house he doesn’t know and change their A/C so he’s more comfortable,” Travis says. “It’s not a joke – I’ve seen him do it.”

Stacie says when Eric gets an idea, he expects everyone to instantly agree. Yet Stacie and Travis agree Eric’s personality doesn’t hurt Morningbell’s dynamic.

The Shitty Beatles sit in their practice space, a room with sea foam walls and blonde wood floors. A black and white poster of Paul McCartney watches over the men with a benevolent smile.

They are deciding how much set time to allot the other band, Brewster Baker, for an upcoming Common Grounds show. Eric wants to give the other band a little less time than desired. Collin Whitlock, keys, scrunches up his face, then gives a wide smile and says, “Well, you’re the boss.”

Travis absently fiddles with a riff, and Chris Hillman, drums, watches the exchange with a slight smile. No expression of resentment crosses either face.

That’s because Eric has this laid-back yet direct way of decision-making. In other words, he’s got it covered. All of it. And there’s nothing anyone else has to worry about. His next project? Getting Morningbell and their gear 1,000 mi. to Austin for SXSW in March.

Morningbell will play Common Grounds Feb 26th.