By Nikki Novo
Every now and again, you get turned on to a band that sounds fresh yet familiar at the same time: a group undoubtedly influenced by the great bands of the past but transcending their heroes to produce a genuinely unique sound. To many Miamians, experimental dance rock group Outereach is that band.
Influenced by ’80s pop and ’90s rock, but managing to steer clear of the stereotypical sound of today’s indie rock movement, Outereach is sure to take you back to the days of jamming to Eddie Vedder and dancing all night to The Police.
"They’ve grown and ripened, and I believe they have the right stuff to [be] a substantial contender in today’s version of the music business," shares Cosmo Ohms, legendary soundman at Tobacco Road. "They have great songs, which are well-written and well-arranged, making them sound fresh. "
Like a lot of bands, Outereach began in a dusty garage. In this case, in guitarist Alex Salazar and drummer Chris Riveron’s grandparent’s home in Coral Gables. The cousins knew bassist Eddy Davis since childhood, who later met singer Joey Espinoza at a high school party. After one jam session between the four, Outereach was born.
"We were a crappy high school band, a decent college band and now… I don’t know what we are," muses Davis. "After ten years I would hope we’re not bad, and if so, we should probably quit now."
Attend one of their shows and you’ll discover that shouldn’t be an option. The crowd jumps, hands in the air, some singing along, desperately trying to reach the high notes in singer Joey’s seemingly endless range.
"Each member is undeniably talented, not one shadowing the other," says Pablo Reyes, who handles artist management at Fernan Martinez Communications and is a long-time Outereach fan. "The love Outereach has for music drives you to fall in love with theirs."
The band’s latest CD includes a cornucopia of songs — exactly what you would expect from a band gathering its influences from a melting pot like Miami. From local favorite techno dance track "The District" to sing-at-the-top-of-your-lungs "Patiently," you’re destined to hit repeat at the end.