party (pärt'?) n. a gathering for social entertainment, or the entertainment itself, often of a specific nature [a birthday party, cocktail party]

extravaganza (ek strav'c gan'zc) n. a spectacular, elaborate theatrical production

Anyone can put together an album release party. The band shows up, sets up, rocks out. The crowd shows up, drinks up, rocks out. Everyone goes home happy. If they do it right, the only distinction between an album release party and any other performance is never-before seen stack of records in some obscure corner.

Not everyone can put together an album release extravaganza. Within a minute or two of discussing the plans for the release of their debut album Through the Distance and the Dark, at least three of the four members of Fermata could have you sold.

"We are going to end with a sing-along," guitarist Jon Koschoreck explained. "We are having lyrics printed up, will hand them out to people right before the last song and have everyone join us."

If the prospective ending is not enough to put you inside the King Club Friday night, vocalist Sara Weiland's explanation of the ambiance from the very beginning should. "It will be themed toward the CD, very earthy and organic," she said. "We want to make it a theme rather than a show. We are going to have props set up around the stage that correspond with the symbols on the album."

Describing the stage setup in reference to the images on the album packaging, Jon came to the block of wood and axe, which led percussionist Noah Buckley-Farlee to mention Jon's guitar jumps and the essence of Fermata took center stage.

"People are paying to see us perform," Jon said. "Some bands come up there like they came off the street or something. A little ketchup stain here, some mustard there. We don't do that."

What Fermata does do is put on a show. And just like the subtle distinction between the album release "party" and "extravaganza," there is a Fermatan difference distinguishing "playing" from "performing."

Such a difference is brought to life particularly through Sara. "I tend to get carried away or really get into it," she admitted. "Like during the Klinic show with the chair. I was singing and not really thinking about it and just kicked the chair."

"And as I watched the chair fly, I had two thoughts," Jon commented. "Either this is really awesome, or really bad."

Noah interjected, "It wouldn't be entirely bad for people to go home talking that night. We would be the band where the singer kicked the chair and injured some guy. We would be known."

Their devotion to the performance — whether by a suddenly made mobile chair, the mid-chorus ripping of Sara's skirt, the unplanned matching attired — certainly will make Fermata a name to know. But their songs will make them hard to forget.

Influenced by outdoors and books, Jon identified himself as a lyricist who found out he could also play the guitar. As such, he wants the audience to enjoy the extravaganza. But he equally wants them to buy the new album. "I want people to go home and find out what the lyrics are. You can't always hear exactly what someone is singing," Jon explained with Sara commenting on the additional trouble many soundmen have with getting a female vocalist properly mic-ed. "And that is the story right there. That's what the album is for — people hear something they like, buy it, take it home and actively listen."

"So we are going to have a mandatory two drink, one CD minimum," Noah mused. "Maybe we can have the bartender just slide the album under the drink as the coaster."

Bribery will not be necessary, if only people make the courageous step of spending the $5 cover charge. When asked how they perceived music in the Madison area, Sara fluttered her eyes and exhaled audibly.

"Exactly. That pretty much sums it up," added Jon. "Younger people go to the shows, they have no problem spending the money to see a show. That is their night. But –"

" — Madison is a bar town, not a club town," Noah interrupted. (In case there was any confusion, The King Club offers an excellent selection of alcohols and works some of the city's best bartenders.)

Even so, Fermata found little deterrence. They remain invested in making a sound that intrigues listeners. They continue to develop unique shows which reward those willing to sacrifice one cranberry vodka for club cover. "We are just experimenting and creating. You have to believe in yourself enough to do that," Sara said.

An album release party? Eh, another show will come along. An album release extravaganza? Only once. And only with the likes of Fermata.