BAM Magazine

Review by Gena Nason

September 10, 1993

From the moment one walks onstage, be it as a warbling Orphan Annie in sixth grade or as an electrifying blues belter in LA’s hottest club, there’s always a need. A need to be noticed, approved of, adored and, sometimes, paid a few bucks. For the musically intense and thoroughly absorbing band Lava Diva, however, the pressing need is to please themselves first. Hardly a selfish move, since the members want to make sure they’ve got it all together before they tell everyone to listen.

“We really haven’t pursued any press,” says bassist Johnny Sabella. “We’re a little wary of promotion at this point. But, we’re getting out there, playing shows, to get to know ourselves better. We want to push us on ourselves now, not on others.”

Sabella, guitarist Dawn Fintor, and drummer/percussionist Greg Bernath have unintentionally captivated a loyal crowd. The sometimes disturbing but always intriguing weave of gentle melody and dark rhythmic discord cannot help but pierce the weary, welcoming ears of Los Angeles clubgoers.

“People who come to see us are our biggest motivation,” Sabella says. “They’re so cool to us. It makes us work that much harder.” One audience member enjoyed a recent show so much he asked Lava Diva if he could record a single by them. Steve Riskin, always on the lookout for interesting bands for his “singles-only” label Meltdown Records, finally came to an agreement with the band, and released their single of “Imago Dei,” backed with “Vertigo,” earlier this summer.

Pretty good accomplishment for Sabella and Fintor, who when first playing together about a year and a half ago, “Got excited just playing a note together!” Sabella says. In fact, the musical experience was entirely new to Sabella. “It was my first time holding anything,” she says of her debut as a bassist.

But during the LA riots, something came alive, musically (for) Sabella and Fintor, who’ve been acquaintances since attending the same local high school. Locked inside and feeling rather emotional and helpless, ideas and songs started jamming their brains. “I felt like we were kids fingerpainting, trying to get mom to put our pictures up on the refrigerator,” Fintor says (of) those breakthrough moments.

Though their songs have been committed to vinyl and draw respectable crowds to the clubs, Lava Diva still does not want to claim victory—at least not yet. “Our basic scheme right now is to play our shows the best we can,” Sabella says. “And after every show, we feel we’ve grown that much more.”