Superlative Gushing April 2, 2003 supergush carves its own niche in the local modern-rock milieu By Nathan Turk – Syracuse, NY
Since evolving from grunge and alternative more than a decade ago, the modern rock genre has grown La-Z-Boy comfy, with many groups relying on vapid, recycled choruses and contrived angst. Syracuse's Supergush disdains that cookie-cutter approach to their craft. "A lot of people relate to our songs because they're very basic, inspired by personal experiences," says singer-guitarist Chris Krupa. "It's not like we're trying to find rhymes that go together just to make them sound good." Krupa's couplets are a long way from your standard "spoon, June, moon, loon" fare. "I would walk the longest mile/ on the surface of the sun/ I would wait a million years/ to count them one by one...to be with you tonight," he sings to a lover in "Surface of the Sun," a track off the group's 2000 disc Confusion Among the Masses (Raz Cactus). In the background, Joe Sauve's buoyant bass bobs in perfect tandem to drummer Rick Borczuk's beats, as Krupa and lead guitarist Terry Clifton get their jiggy on with electric acoustics.
The music isn't too far from pop-rock darlings Matchbox 20 or the late Toad the Wet Sprocket, bands that Krupa cites as major influences. "I also like the Gin Blossoms, and Travis out of England. We all bring different perspectives to the music," he says. Clifton, Supergush's Van Halen junkie, has been musical partners with Krupa since 1993, when the two spent part of their Le Moyne College days in the band Brave Utensils. In 1995 they formed the Noisy Boys, an acoustic covers duo with a fancy for "everything from Simon and Garfunkel and Neil Young to Pearl Jam and Oasis," in Krupa's words. The Noisy Boys continue to gig regularly at local venues such as The Bull & Bear and Coleman's Authentic Irish Pub.
In 1997 the duo recruited Borczuk and Sauve, and the foursome recorded a self-titled album under the moniker Gush; the CD was released under the band's imprint, Raz Cactus. Gush had to hush, however, when a similarly named Long Island band had problems with the upstate upstarts. "We had to change it, for legal reasons," Krupa recalls. "We were looking for any way to keep the fan base we created, for a word to tag onto it so it would still be recognizable." Hence the superlative, "super."
Confusion Among the Masses was followed by last fall's live disc Radius. "We recorded shows over the past five years, with the intention of releasing something down the road," Krupa says of the compiling process. "Just straight, live recordings, no overdubs. It gives people a sense of what we're about live." The hollering and clapping between the tracks comes form "fans ranging from the drinking age to their 40s and 50s," Krupa says. "We have a diverse audience."
While the majority of the tracks cull from Confusion, three tunes from the debut are represented, including "October Days," in which Krupa's harrowing baritone summons the late Layne Staley. "It feels nice to have songs around from six, seven years ago," Krupa reflects. "It provides a sense of history." Two of the live disc's tracks, "Out of Stride" and "Stay," are previews of the upcoming Supergush CD, which should be finished by the time Syracusans are busting out their rakes and flannels. "We have nine new songs, altogether," Krupa discloses. "We'll be recorded in the fall at Kianka Studios on Tipperary Hill, which is owned by our sound man, Chris Cox. We've definitely been selective with what goes in. A good song is one we've worked on for six months, and are still happy with."
The fact that dozens of songs remain on the shelf, however, suggests the members are pretty busy dudes. In addition to Supergush and the Noisy Boys, Krupa and Clifton both teach at Henninger High School. Sauve runs a karaoke service, and Borczuk is a district manager for Home Depot. "It just makes sense to have a stable job," Krupa offers. "Any one of us could probably make a living just off the music if we wanted to. But I wouldn't want to give up either one of my jobs, I love them both equally."
The group's experience in Pennsylvania at the February 2002 National Association for Campus Activities Conference, an annual liaison between the higher education and entertainment communities, seems proof that everything eventually works out. "We were standing behind the curtain waiting to be introduced when suddenly Joe realized his bass wasn't working," Krupa remembers. "He snuck out from behind the curtain to try to screw around with the pedals, and we're all thinking, 'Oh no, our gear can't be screwing up now.' But at the exact moment the announcer rolled the name Supergush off his tongue, it started working again."
Krupa says "two of our upcoming shows, the Thursday, April 3, gig at Waterbury, Connecticut's Teikyo Post University, and our April 13 gig at St. John Fisher College in Rochester, were both a direct result of the NACA conference. It's a great way to make connections." Supergush's brushes with greatness have included warming up the crowd for Canada's Econoline Crush at the late Club Chameleon in 1997, and serving as the opening act during two Jamesville Balloon Fests: the 1999 edition that featured the Spin Doctors as headliners, and 2000's blowout with Stroke 9 and Splendor. "But that's just a drop in the bucket in terms of the overall plan," Krupa allows. "We'd really like to start pursuing more farther-out shows. There's always people out there who aren't familiar with your music, there's always room to grow. It's arrogant to say you've reached your pinnacle. We played at Happy Endings a couple weeks back, and some guy came up to me and said, 'What I really enjoy about your music is that it's honest.' And that really felt good."

April 2001
Supergush lavishes listeners with accessible melodies
By Allen Czelusniak
Supergush
There's a formula that reigns in the realm of good-guy rock, the comfortable kingdom that Dave Matthews, Counting Crows and Hootie and the Blowfish call home. Judging from their latest effort, Confusion Among the Masses (Raz Cactus), Syracuse pop-rockers Supergush know the recipe: easy-to-swallow tunes that seem more intent on bonding with listeners than forcing a musical concoction down anyone's throat.
Singer and lyricist Chris Krupa clearly articulates his takes on the standard subjects of love, family and friendship. Yet he also confronts his self-doubts and desires. While Confusion presents a first-person account of Krupa's dealings with the world at large, the nonconfrontational nature of the band's music invites listeners to stick around. Instead of sounding self-indulgent or absorbed, Supergush comes across as sincere and strong enough not to mask its sensitivity.
Many local rock bands obscure their lyrics behind a blitzkrieg of loud guitars, booming bass and bashing drums. This technique often hides a lousy singer or the fact that the band says nothing of consequence. Not so with Supergush. Contrary to the disc's title, there is no confusion about what Krupa voices.
Credit the band for giving him plenty of space to sing and producer Bob Aquaviva at Utica's Acqrok Studios for neatly capturing it on tape. And even if there were any communication breakdown, the liner notes contain all the lyrics, clearing up any confusion between the band and its audience.
February 4, 2003
SUPERGUSH COOKS UP A DELIGHTFUL ROCK STEW ON NEW LIVE DISC
BY MARK BIALCZAK MUSIC CRITIC
The four guys in the Syracuse rock band supergush have been collecting tapes over the last five years.
Now guitarists and singers Terry Clifton and Chris Krupa, drummer Rick Borczuk and bassist Joe Sauve are ready to share the stash with their friends and fans. "Radius" is a fine collection of live material recorded over the life span of the band. You can tell some of the stuff was performed in the late 1990s because the introductions salute the band by its first name - just plain gush. Yet there's nothing ordinary about supergush's stew of modern rock. It's brimming with pop melody, crisp with rich guitar work and spicy with original lyrics. The music was recorded in five different venues around Central New York: Borders Books and Music, Coleman's Authentic Irish Pub, Rosie O'Grady's, the former Styleen's Rhythm Palace and The Woodshed.
It's a good and appropriate mix, because supergush's live performance fits in at coffeehouses, pubs, bars, and, now, in the home CD player, too. "Live - Radius" has 15 songs and runs 76 minutes, 41 seconds.
Put it on when: You're looking for a rock bridge between the 1970s and today. Supergush goes everywhere you want guitar jangle to visit.

Supergushing
January 5th, 2005
--Christopher O'Connor
Supergush's new album Victims of Routine (Raz Cactus) sounds like the work of guys who have been through a lot of alternating heartbreak and triumph in their lives. Judging from the Syracuse indie-rock band's lyrics (Sample: "This is the song for all the songs I've let get in the way"), they've also become wise as their early 30s progress; they seem as hopeful as Tony Little, the buff guy with a ponytail who sells all of that freaky-looking exercise equipment on late-night informercials.
"There are always things to learn from and things to move on from," says Chris Krupa, 32, who sings and writes most of Supergush's lyrics. "Some of the lyrics {on Victims of Routine} were based on things I was going through at the time and some were past reflections. It's always therapeutic, I guess."
Krupa cites the early 1990s hitmakers Toad the Wet Sprocket as one of his big personal influences, something that becomes obvious after a listen to the new album, Supergush's fourth. Even when the band ratchets up the volume on the guitars, there's an overriding sensitivity to the melody, as on the jangly "I'm OK." Krupa finishes his most wistful, blatantly poppy tune "Out of Stride" with the words "On my friends are what I feed/ All my friends are all I need." The nice-guy sheen on Victims of Routine is so pervasive, you almost wonder if the tough rocker "Murder in the Afternoon" is merely tongue-in-cheek.
In real life, Krupa and longtime friend Terry Clifton really are nice guys. Both work as special education teachers at Henninger High School in Syracuse. They attended Le Moyne College together and played in bands before forming Supergush in 1996.
"Music's always been such a wonderful relief for us," Krupa says. "We share a common interest. It's been a lot of fun."
Despite all of the feel-good material they mine as songwriters, Supergush does have its mischievous side. The band ends most of its shows with a faithful cover of Young MC's "Bust a Move." They've also covered Coolio tunes: "It gets pretty ugly, actually," Krupa laughs. "It keeps it entertaining to ourselves."
Supergush will hold its CD release party for Victims of Routine on Jan. 14 at the Marx Hotel & Conference Center, 701 E. Genesee St. The album will be available for sale afterward at local music retailers and through the band's Web site, http://www.supergush.com.