“During our set, the smoke machine we rented got stuck and totally fogged the place out,” remembers the bassist. “It was a very Spinal Tap moment. We came up with the name a few weeks before the show. We liked that it sounded very non-metal. It was different and had nothing to do with our sound. In retrospect, I’m surprised we weren’t taken as a Christian band, because we are not that at all.

Don’t get me wrong; we aren’t Satanists either.” That harder, more metallic side of the Charleston band scene was deeply underground in the early ’90s, but Children’s Choir broke out of that with a tough, gruff sound, powered in large part by Richie’s sinister guitar work and Paolo’s piledriver drumming style. Through those early years, Children’s Choir put a lot of effort into writing their own material and establishing themselves as a legitimate rock act in the local clubs.

This was during the height of the Hootie/Panic era, when most local bands either grooved or jangled to a lighter beat. Kevin may not have sought the spotlight as the frontman, but he belted out his lyrics with a convincing growl, more along the lines of Henry Rollins, Pantera’s Phil Anselmo, and the Melvins’ Buzz Osborne than the guttural howls of some of the darker/faster death metal and hardcore of the time.

The Choir played their first big downtown show opening for an impressive bill of Corrosion of Conformity, L7, and Helmet. That gig led to further bookings and various showcases. Their reputation as a solid, menacingly-tight band grew. “Our sound was and is straightfoward, meat ‘n’ potatoes hard rock with influences of metal, thrash, and a splash of traditional punk,” Kevin says.