A sign on the door reads, “Ice Man, come in. We’re downstairs, rollin’ in our 5.0’s.”

Nadas singer Jason Walsmith, dressed in sweats and slippers, and bundled in his shaggy new beard, meets me in the foyer with a surprisingly formal salutation.

“Welcome to my humble abode,” he says between sips of coffee.

He swiftly closes the door behind me, admitting only a dash of the frigid winter air that will soon be poetically exhaled as groundwork for another summer soundtrack courtesy of the Ames folksome foursome.

“I’ve never observed pre-production before,” I note, heading into the makeshift rehearsal room.

Drummer Tony Bohnenkamp remarks, “Don’t worry. Neither have we.”

The basement is precisely the environment you would expect from a twenty-something musician. Old couches and amplifiers line the room, overshadowing a couple of beat-up snowboards and a Nintendo-equipped entertainment center.

Walsmith takes a phone call, while bassist Brett Nelson cleans spilled coffee from his guitar case.

Seconds later, the two are knee-deep into a conversation about Walsmith’s bad habit of hanging up the phone without saying good-bye.

“It’s one of those things you don’t even notice you do,” he says. “But, I’m working on it.”

The group begins recording an early demo of a new tune by The Nadas’ other frontman, Mike Butterworth, and the conversation turns to business.

Basic questions seem astoundingly complex once the music kicks in.

“Hey Bonus, tell me what you’re going to do in that middle part,” Nelson says.

Bohnenkamp is the Nada with the nicknames — Boner being the most common. His bald head and naked feet betray him as the outsider, but his clever sense of humor and inviting smile prove he’s actually the premium draft of a comedic four-pack.

As Butterworth sings, his bandmates watch him, playing off every twitch in his eye.

Nelson notices something. “You hate that part, don’t you?”

Both Nadas songwriters are perfectionists, but in their own ways. Butterworth writes constantly, but is rarely content with his material. Walsmith writes on occasion, and only when the environment is perfect.

“All of this touring has really slowed me down,” Walsmith says. “As much as I say, ‘I want to write a song now,’ it’s difficult because my mind is in this work mode, which is very far away from songwriting.”

Butterworth also admits to having an occasional writing block.

“For the song ‘Coming Home,’ I was in a block for six months, and I said, ‘I’m going to write a song, I don’t care how crappy it is.’ And I wrote it and it was crappy. Then I edited it and it was a little less crappy. Then I came up with a guitar part that made it even a little less crappy.”

One of Butterworth’s latest concoctions is the upshot of a writing assignment from a songwriting workshop he and Walsmith attended over the summer.

He was told to write a song about the music business in 30 minutes and the result is a tongue-and-cheek narrative he’s rewritten more times than a junior high love note.

The tune is just as much an ode to one-time major label folkster Todd Snyder as it is to Butterworth’s own career. Lyrics range from his high school punk band, Lovebelly, playing the homecoming dance, to being named Pick of the Week by Rolling Stone.

“So tell me how good I am, tell me I am the man,” Butterworth croons.

Nadas Start

Walsmith and Butterworth began playing music together in the fall of 1993 in the stairwell of their fraternity house.

Jamming on Big Head Todd and Jackopierce covers, they slowly began writing their own material and playing small club shows in Ames.

Nelson joined the duo the next year, and with local drummer Ray England, The Nadas spawned their first studio album in the spring of 1995.

Recorded and mixed in less than a day, “Not A Sound” went on to sell over 4,500 copies and introduced the Ames music scene to its first fictional icon, “Dancing Lucinda.”

As a four-piece, the group found a home in People’s Bar and Grill and a Nadas show quickly became the place to be on a Friday night.

The demand for new Nadas material grew out of control and in the spring of 1997, after declaring themselves full-time musicians, Walsmith, Butterworth and Nelson re-entered the studio.

The Nadas invited former music scene pal Bohnenkamp, who once sang and played guitar for Lunchbox, to become the band’s full-time drummer.

“New Start” was released in October and for the first time, fans got to hear The Nadas on a professional level.

The project was local producer Paul Wright’s baby and he brought in an array of instruments and guest musicians to conceive it.

College radio embraced “New Start,” and it began charting in the College Music Journal’s Triple A chart. The record peaked at No. 10, giving The Nadas the confidence to stay on the road the remainder of the year.

“We had to get one of those fuzzy steering wheel covers,” Walsmith jokes just before the touring conversation becomes serious.

“It burns you up real good, real fast,” Butterworth admits. “I know my tolerance for shit has gone down. When we first started, I used to love everything from riding in the van to tearing down. And now, basically, I only like playing and meeting people. It’s a negative feel. Like, I used to be a lot nicer.”

Butterworth still has some niceness left in him as he has no intention of letting the downs of touring get more talking time than the ups.

“Sometimes its really cool, like you’re driving in the middle of the night and everyone’s asleep and there’s a shower of falling stars,” he says. “Or we’re in Virginia, where the pine trees are just gorgeous.”

Butterworth is a glass-half-full guy, the buddy you hope to run into on a bad day. His personality makes you smile as easily as his songs make you cry.

As the philosopher of the group, Walsmith is the perfect peanut butter for Butterworth’s jelly.

“If touring had no effect on our psyche, we’d probably be more successful because we could work that much more and play for that many more people,” Walsmith says. “But we’ve reached that breaking point where if we tour for too long, then it ends up being worse because we don’t do as well.”

“Here’s what I think,” Bohnenkamp announces as he straightens his figure on Walsmith’s massaging chair. “Every night we play, there’s a certain way that everything is supposed to go, sort of an unwritten itinerary. You have to drive there, meet your contact person … And depending on how many of those things or how often those things either go good or bad, pretty much sets the way that your psyche is.”

Standing tall on the top of the list of the faults of touring is parking, the band says.

“People think it sounds ridiculous, but a lot of times, with a van and trailer, parking is a huge pain in the ass,” Walsmith says. “Our New York City show, we spent at least two hours one day trying to find a parking space.”

Sitting in a circle with The Nadas is like watching the 4 X 100 at a track meet. Each of them speaks his mind, then passes the baton so gracefully you hardly notice.

And like an accomplished relay team, The Nadas are tight. Calling the four of them friends would be a sinful understatement.

“We get along better than any roommate I’ve ever had, and we’re on top of each other all the time, night and day,” Butterworth explains.

“Because we know each other so well, we’re not really shocked by anything that anybody says,” Nelson adds.

Although he’s the shy one on stage, Nelson’s just as prone to give a million dollar answer as his mic-happy bandmates.

That is, until the million dollar question is asked: “Would you say The Nadas are evolving more into a folk band or a rock band?”

“Oh no, I’m leaving,” Nelson jokes.

“It is a pretty big issue, actually,” Butterworth says. “We’re playing a lot of rock clubs, and we’re able to play more fun, dance rock ‘n’ roll, but it’s in our hearts to play places where people are sitting down and listening.”

Walsmith admits to writing his songs with folk music influences, though he says they turn into something different when he brings them to the band.

“When I hear a new song that Mike or Jason comes up with,” Bohnenkamp says. “I don’t have any sort of musical genre in my mind. I’m not trying to think, ‘OK, what would a folk drummer do here?'”

“How would Metallica play this?” Nelson jokes.

“As Tony one time said, ‘We’re not always sitting there thinking of who we should be playing for; we’re playing what we like.'”

Butterworth reviews an official answer with his bandmates and gives the go-ahead to print it: “We’re able to adapt to our surroundings.”

Nadas Live

Along with a couple of hefty parking tickets, The Nadas were able to pick up some valuable souvenirs from a year on the road, including “En Vivo,” a collection of two-track board tapes recorded live by sound engineer Lou Lyle at clubs, festivals and radio stations across the country.

The group began recording its shows to critique during the next day’s drive, until they accidentally began sounding good.

“It wasn’t just that,” Nelson notes. “It was that we had a lot of people that said they loved our CDs, and there were certain moods when they would listen to those, but it was nothing like going to the shows.”

“It’s kind of like a historical record a little bit,” Walsmith adds. “One of the parts talks about our van breaking down every day, and the very next day, we got our new van. There’s a lot of little things that say where we were at the time.”

The 10-song CD is equipped with two hidden tracks, but no mention of where each song was recorded, partially because the band members don’t know.

“I bet I know where all of them were done,” Butterworth says, unconvincingly.

“All of our venues are important to us,” Nelson says. “So that’s another reason. By saying that we played at all these places, we’re giving everyone credit.”

“En Vivo,” which means “live” in Spanish, offers two previously unreleased songs in “Mi Corazon” and “Coming Home” and classics from both “Not A Sound” and “New Start.”

“For Your Love” features an extended jam, “Run In Place” includes Walsmith telling the story of the Taharamara Indians, and “Life In A Bucket” boasts Butterworth’s famous “field and a farm” routine.

“Some of the things that happened during those recordings had never happened before that time and have never happened since,” Walsmith says.

The Nadas took on the “En Vivo” project knowing what songs they wanted to use, but changed their minds when they decided they would do a series of live records.

“So whatever was good, we used,” Butterworth says.

Lyle and the group screened the tapes for perfect board mixes and high energy. Nelson says they also searched hard for the tunes when “Tony sang off key.”

While it is common to use live records to showcase covers, The Nadas decided to stick with originals and not hassle with any legal issues.

“And there’s not necessarily one cover song that we really pride ourselves on, like a trademark cover or something,” Nelson says.

Since “En Vivo” was released in mid-December, the group has heard the most feedback about a radio clip montage that appears as one of the hidden tracks.

“That’s my favorite part, probably,” Butterworth says. “It was all Paul. He picked what went there, put it in order, put the genius little sound effects after each clip.”

Wright, who trots down the stairs a few minutes after my arrival, brought with him pages of notes he took from hearing the demos from the day before.

His ideas are met with open arms by all of the guys. He suggests using an accordion rather than a piano on one song, and even shares his alternative song lyrics, though he doesn’t seem proud of them.

“We’ve never taken the time before we got to the studio to talk about the songs and rehearse and try different angles,” Butterworth says. “We’ve just gone in and played ’em how we play ’em, and now we’re trying to find what works best for each individual song.”

The Nadas have not set any goals for their next record, with the intention to avoid pressure in the studio.

“We’re starting early and we’re going take a long time and do it right,” Butterworth says.

The Nadas continue reviewing song specifics with Wright as I attempt to sneak out. Walsmith notices and walks me to the door. Without forgetting, he says “good-bye.”

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Nadas Trivia

1. What was the year, model and make of The Nadas’ old van?

2. What was Mike Butterworth’s major at Iowa State?

3. What semester did three Nadas graduate from ISU?

4. Which fraternity was home to three Nadas?

5. Which two Nadas worked at the Daily?

6. Where did Tony Bohnenkamp live before moving back to Ames to join The Nadas?

7. Which two bands did The Nadas play between at Star Fest ’98?

8. What number did “New Start” reach on the College Music Journal’s charts?

9. What well-known bar in New York City did The Nadas play in ’98?

10. On the cover of “New Start,” what’s the young boy’s name riding the bike?

To enter the Nadas Trivia contest, e-mail your answers to Scott Jacobson at [email protected].

One winner will be randomly selected to receive an autographed copy of “En Vivo,” the new live disc by The Nadas, and special mention in the next Nadas Newsletter, read by more than 1,000 Nadas fans around the country.