From Dylan To Droge On The Outside Of The Seattle Grunge Scene, Troubador Pete Droge Just Kept Playing His Music Until The World Noticed

You could hold casting calls for a month and not find anyone who looks more like your classic ‘60s troubadour than Pete Droge, a 26-year-old who gazes at the world through soft, penetrating eyes that seem constantly storing up images for future songs.

Wearing his guitar on his back as comfortably as an old jacket, the lanky, 6-foot singer-songwriter is filled with the same sense of wanderlust associated with the early Bob Dylan or James Taylor.

All this may tie him to one of pop-rock’s richest traditions, but it stamped Droge as a definite outsider in the grunge-dominated Seattle club scene, where he honed his craft in the early ‘90s.

With record scouts tossing six-figure contracts in the air like confetti in search of the next hard-rocking Nirvana or Pearl Jam, many young, folk-minded rock musicians would have been tempted to change their style in hopes of a shortcut to stardom.

Not Droge, who writes about the longing and doubts of relationships with the softer, more customized edge found in the work of his singer-songwriter heroes, including Dylan, Neil Young, Tom Petty and Gram Parsons.

“I was definitely doing something completely different,” the easygoing songwriter says. “I was in a band, but it was much more traditional and rootsy, more country than the kind of things the record companies were looking for.

“But I always felt there was a place for me because the artists I admired had made records and had enjoyed successful careers. My thinking, I guess, was ‘There may not be any spot for me now, but there will be one someday.’ “

Droge was proved right when his debut album, “Necktie Second,” was released early last year by American Recordings and was well received by radio’s new adult album alternative format. One of Droge’s songs, the quirky and atypical “If You Don’t Love Me (I’ll Kill Myself),” also landed a spot in the hit “Dumb and Dumber” soundtrack.

The young performer’s main exposure, however, has come from being the opening act on high-profile tours with such acts as Petty, Melissa Etheridge and Sheryl Crow. His dates this spring with Petty went so well that Droge has been invited back for another leg of the tour.

“Pete might have been outside the (hardcore Seattle scene), but all the musicians in town liked to listen to his band - from Jerry Cantrell (of Alice in Chains) to Eddie Vedder,” says Kelly Curtis, who manages Droge as well as Vedder’s band, Pearl Jam.

“Personally, his music reminded me of the music I’ve always liked over the years - a little bit of Neil Young, a little bit of Dylan, a little bit of Petty. I didn’t so much think, ‘Hey, this could be big.’ I just thought, ‘Hey, this is good.’ “

Droge comes to the wanderlust troubadour tradition naturally. He was born March 11, 1969, in Eugene, Ore., and was less than one-month-old when he was adopted by a Minneapolis couple. His new mother was an elementary school teacher, and his father set up group homes for troubled juveniles.

After four years, the family, including an older brother, moved to South Dakota and then to St. Louis before settling in the late ‘70s in the Seattle area; Droge lived there until moving to Portland, Ore., two years ago.

He responded to the restlessness reflected in such songs as Paul Simon’s “The Boxer” and Dylan’s “Like a Rolling Stone.”

“I was intrigued by the idea of someone who is a sort of nomad and doesn’t have any ties, any normal lifestyle - someone who is constantly in search of new adventures, new experiences,” he says.

Droge, who started writing songs during his late teens, was fronting a band called Ramadillo by his early 20s and working day jobs as a dishwasher, busboy and pizza cook.

At the pizza joint, he and co-worker Mike McCready spent their free time talking about music, sharing favorite tapes. McCready, now a guitarist in Pearl Jam, introduced Droge to the music of the late Gram Parsons, whose work in the late ‘60s and ‘70s with the Flying Burrito Brothers forged a masterful blend of country emotion and hard-edged rock observation.

“I fell in love with the fragileness of his voice,” Droge says of Parsons. “He wasn’t a great singer in a technical sense, but he sang with such urgency and immediacy. The songs too were very simple and pure - stories about the choices people have.”

Droge made a few demo tapes through the years, hoping to attract record company interest, yet he wasn’t satisfied with any of them. He mentioned to McCready two years ago that he wanted to save enough money to go into the studio for a week and make a professional demo.

In an act of generosity, McCready, who was by then reaping the rewards of Pearl Jam’s success, gave Droge $5,000 - no strings attached - to record the demo.

Impressed by the results, Kelly Curtis agreed to manage Droge, and Brendan O’Brien, who has produced two of Pearl Jam’s albums, signed Droge to Rick Rubin’s American Recordings.

There is in Droge’s music a healthy mix of optimism and disappointment, leading one to wonder about how he balances these feelings in his own life. The phrase “faith in you” pops up in two songs. In one the faith is rewarded, whereas a couple’s happy ending seems just out of reach in the other.

Droge smiles when asked whether he is an optimist or a pessimist.

“Well, I think of myself as definitely an optimistic and positive person,” he begins. “But as soon as I hear myself say that, I start feeling more negative because it’s so hard in this world to count on anything.”

Droge, who plans to record his second album this summer, pauses and looks across the room at his unpacked suitcase on the bed.

“In some ways,” he continues, “That’s probably what all this search is about. Everyone is looking for something to believe in.”