BUBBLEGUM MAGAZINE

THIS MONTH'S SPOTLIGHT: CAROLINE STARK GETS ROOKED IN NEW YORK
"Friends Of Mine"

There has long been a suffering down an avenue of music that largely remains misunderstood. The jingle-jangle mornings for most pop-oriented bands that play minus the sleek synth or deep purple-hearted muscle have been shadowed by cash-cow major label rainclouds. "Popular demand" may be a fleeting misconception. Often have I had Friday night soirees with friends, and friends of friends, and often the musical ambience is shaped by none other than yours truly.

Many a time has a friend, or even a friend of, donned the air of quizzicality when one of my choices embraces the room. I can spot that look from eight miles high. One is lost in conversation and then, slowly a distraction sets in. The eyes move toward the direction of a speaker and the concentration light grows dim in mid-sentence. The confused look breaks into a soft, bright, smile and the victim, in all his/her radiant bewilderment manages a whisper aimed straight at me. "Who is this?" "Do you like it?" I ask with the excited squeal of a teenager. "Yeah. . . . . a lot!" is the reply of the friend, or the friend of a friend.

Most times "popular demand" is the Devil incarnate. The end must be near. If I hear that Hootie guy (complete with his collection of dunce-boy baseball caps) one more time I, I, Iíll. . . cancel my cable subscription so to not accidentally click on MTV. Hell, I'll even rip my radio's lifeblood giving wires from my dash.

Boyz To Men take a hike. Sheryl Crow, fly outta here. This can't be what the populace of kids want. I was so much cooler. Still am, if Celine Dion is the measuring stick.

Wow! I'm on a roll. I have a point. I'll get there. If I have a thousand compact discs to my name, then close to half have to be bands or compilations of bands that most major label people, or your sister's boyfriend from the yuppie ranks have never heard of.

Music that is bigger and more musical than anything REM has wailed in the last couple of tries. Music with passion and heart, substance and desire, all wrapped in neat little gifts yet, made for next to nothing. If you're looking for slick Genesis-like sterile production, or play by the rules in songwriting 101, then stop right here. If you want the new year to start off fresh and bright, write these down. Brad Jones, Guided By Voices, Loud Family, Critics, Mop Tops, Wondermints, Rainyard, Wannadies. Keeping up? I can go on all week. Artists with movement and ideals and ideas. . . Vacant Lot, Gigolo Aunts and The Sun Sawed In Half.

Here's one that sits atop my list of unhousehold names. Rooks. Chess piece? European crow? An act of swindle? To some maybe. To me, one of the brightest bands on the road to bubbling under greatness. I feel even closer to them than I do other bands because we share common ground. Two girls. One, Kristin Pinell, plays guitar like Badfinger's Ham with attitude and another, Anne Benkovitz plunks bass ala Bruce Thomas stoned on McCartney tea. That's a compliment! I ALSO play guitar, though I bet Rook Pinell knows more than four chords. I've even held a bass once. We girls must stick together.

The guys in the band are just as exciting. Drummer Patrick Yourell holds down the drumming duties and lead singer/songwriter Michael Mazzarella crafts wonderful, tightly knitted pop gems that have you memorizing the hook before the chorus rolls in.

The Not Lame Recording Label in Denver, Colorado is responsible for putting the Rooks on the obscure map. Two releases, 1994's A Double Dose Of Pop (a two band CD split with L.A.'s Twenty Cent Crush) and 1995's Chimes EP (which includes a masterpiece original Christmas song) account for all of the band's work under the Not Lame umbrella to date. Their eponymous 1993 debut on Guardian Records made Goldmine Magazine's top 50 essential U.S. power pop albums of all time. Not Lame houses a carload of "Insanely great pop" bands that struggle to keep their tiny identities above water. I've always had a soft spot in my heart for underdogs, but this has nothing to do with the love I have for these not-so-lame outfits. The Rooks are as pure as they come when the least common denominator is desideration. From the first notes of "Glitter Best" (from A Double Dose Of Pop), you can tell that these people just love being Rooks.

On a trip to New York City to cover an assignment for some major label "blah" band, I decided to parlay that into something that skipped more down my alley. A week before departure, I decided to use the services of the New York City directory to locate the telephone number of one, Michael Mazzarella. An annoying pre-recorded happy voice came back "Sorry, at the customers request that number is unlisted." Ding ding. . . lightbulb over head. . . idea coming through.

I decided to write to the band's address found on the inside of their CD and hoped I would get a response in time. Dear Michael, my name is. . . and I am going to be in New York City. . . would love to do an interview. . . my number is . . . Two days before I was to leave, my phone rings and the Michael at the other end is the Rook I've been waiting for. We exchange pleasantries and a date is set. New York City here I come, interview here we go.

"83rd Street," I tell the straight-out-of a black and white Cagney film taxi driver, as I fumble with a hastily scrawled street address on the back of a lunch receipt. "88th Street" I loudly correct myself, hoping that my voice penetrates the thick plexiglass barrier that separates me from my chariot prince. Hmmm, an old brownstone building with a many flight walk-up. I am greeted at the door by the guy whose music has touched me for the last two years. His long brown hair parted somewhat down the middle hides the boyish baby face that I know from the cover of his bandís first release. He smells REALLY good. Wearing what looks like a war-torn faded pink button-down shirt holed at both elbows, he graciously seats me on an even older looking loveseat. I am in the home of Rooks leader Mazzarella. These New York City apartments are sure small I tell myself as I size up the place where, I imagine, all Rooks material is birthed. We get travel and hotel talk out of the way and my tape recorder is clicked into high-gear.

BG: What a city you live in! This is my first visit. I've been to many large cities but this. . . . do you think your songs would be much different if they were created in a suburbia?

MM: Most definitely. The entire pigment of the band would be a different color. Think what "Judy Is A Punk" would have been if the Ramones were from Wisconsin. Imagine (Steve) Cropper and (Duck) Dunn if they came from Jersey (laughs). Everyone is the product of their surroundings. That is the beauty of the geographic blueprint. Every band is branded by the neighborhoods they create in.

BG: What interests me is that in my research for this interview, I learned that some of your Rooks songs were things written within the past ten plus years ("Circle Of Fools," "War," "It's A Crying Shame," "Always You And Me"), long before there was a Rooks. I guess, what I'm driving at is, those early songs were composed in another environment yet, they aren't a great departure from the songs that you write here (in New York).

MM: True. . . . but there are great modifications that happen to the older ones. Alterations that are made because of growth, and that growth goes hand in hand, I believe, with the experiences of living and surviving in New York City. If I played you the original working tapes for some of the old songs, there is a certain naivetÈ and to some extent artlessness that encompasses those pieces. Only through experience and maturity do those songs come alive. I could not have done with those songs ten years ago what I am able to do here. . . . and now.

BG: Why wouldn't that same experience and growth, in time, come forth if you remained in Hartford (Connecticut)?

MM: Hartford isn't New York. I knew every inch of that city when I lived there but it's day and night. I think my work would have hit a level of inertia had I remained there. The aspiration tide never gets too high there.

BG: Have you ever gone back to the old material, being that they're fairly old songs, to re-write words when you reincarnate them? You know, to sort of update yourself?

MM: No. . . I've not done that. The changes made are in arrangements and instrumentation. I may add a musical bridge or line to fill it out. There is a song that we are working on now called "In The Neighborhood" which was written shortly after John Lennon died. The words remain exactly the way I wrote them on that day, but the song has so much more depth now that we have worked it out properly. In fact, I've even discarded part of the lyric and made it into a musical section. The method is just an extension of the last record (Chimes) but again, that extension is made possible because of where we exist and where we make our music. It all comes down to what makes us tick as individuals, and as a unit. Hence, the town's throes affect us.

BG: I haven't written an introduction to this article yet. Can you tell our readers a little of what the Rooks are about (this I wanted to hear).

MM: I don't know. . . ice cream and a cherry. What am I supposed to say?

BG: Be honest.

MM: Why start now? (sly grin) I guess, as a writer I try to create songs and sounds that will appeal to people who are interested in a melodic, musical genre which remains largely guitar-based with close harmony singing. Oh that's stupid! I don't know. . . you write it.

BG: (laughing) That's pretty good. I would add that I think the Rooks are one of the best in their field and there is quite a unique element involved, in that half of the partnership is of the female variety who actually play their instruments. Is it coincidence that the make-up of your band is thus?

MM: Completely. It just worked out that way. Maybe God is a woman (laughs).

BG: I know you produce your own music. How much input do your band members have in the music?

MM: A lot. I don't destroy good ideas out of hand. If what they bring to the party is a very nice addition to a piece, I would be an all out sadist if I rejected quality suggestions just to prove who is boss. The weight is pulled evenly. They really care in what goes down and take pride in their contributions. I maintain that my guitar player is a genius. Anne has come up with beautifully clever bass lines on this new album (A Wishing Well). Patrick worked very hard and the result was a batch of very lively drum tracks. It's all in the roles that we take on. The difference is, that I often make moves without consulting them, but not a note goes down without me knowing about it first, but after all, I am the producer of the record. We have to trust one another. Kristin sometimes comes into the studio with a guitar line she's been toying with at home. We may record it with me hearing it for the first time in the studio. 98% of the time it works.

BG: Do you ever get remarks from musicians in other bands?

MM: Regarding?

BG: Having women in the band. I know what women are up against in the creative field. Chauvinism runs wild in this business.

MM: Oh no. . . no! Everyone has always been very respectful. Although, the respect stems from their great talents. If they were just pretty faces who couldn't play, then that would be an opportunity for ridicule. I think a lot of guys are in awe of the fact that Kristin and Anne have such command over their instruments. Like someone wrote on the Internet recently, "Mazzarella sure knows how to pick 'em" (laughs).

BG: The Rooks are on an independent label. Do you feel limited in any way?

MM: Never. We love our home. Bruce Brodeen (Not Lame boss) treats us like we sell a million records. He believes in what he does and believes in what we do. There are never guidelines or boundaries or suffocating headlocks. There are many limitations where lack of funds is concerned, but I feel that as a band and a label, we are growing simultaneously. (Mocking excitement) Kids, send all your tapes to Not Lame! If you're good you won't be sorry. (Laughing) Let's see Bruce get out of this one!

BG: Do the Rooks play many live shows?

MM: Less than some and more than others. We play when someone asks us to. It's very easy to become over-exposed here. . . or anywhere, if you're playing in the same town all of the time. We do our share, enough to keep it interesting.

The telephone rings and Michael gets into a conversation with a character named Latch. As my recorder eavesdrops on this one-sided conversation, I seize the opportunity to take in all of his subminiature jail cell of an apartment. Where it lacks in spaciousness it makes up twice over in cozy character. His door, hand-painted in a colorful psychedelia, adds a brilliance. Paintings, nick-nacks and biblical overtones caress the room. The only light shining on this dreary late autumn afternoon is candle generated. A large pile of books sleep on the floor to my left. I sneak glimpses into what the chief Rook writer likes to read when he is not penning pop pearls. . . The Corruption of American Politics And The Fall of Richard Nixon, Writing: The Story of Alphabets And Scripts, The Portable Rabelais, Satan And The Early Christian Tradition, Flash Backs By Timothy Leary, Hunter Thompson's Fear And Loathing and something called Through The Vanishing Point: Space And Poetry And Painting. Not a Danielle Steel in the bunch. I quickly write down as many titles as I am able while he leans out of a window overlooking a quaint courtyard five flights below. As he is explaining to this Latch fellow why the Rooks will be unavailable for shows, I shut my notepad, satisfied with my spy work.

BG: Are you a competitive person? I know Brain Wilson is important to you and I have also read that he was very jealous when one of his peers made a great record. Do you feel the same?

MM: Not really. I truly love music. So much so, that I wish more bands worked with greater consistency. When one of my friends makes a nice track, I almost feel as if we did it because it makes me glad and proud. I always welcome good songs. If that's what Brian needed to motivate himself to make great work, then that's all right. No, I like it. Who wants to listen to wank music?

BG: What does it take for you to get into a songwriting mood? Do you have to sneak up to it or can you just turn it on?

MM: I don't know what a songwriting mood is. I never had it. It happens so quickly, there isn't enough time for a mood to set in. I usually instinctively go to the guitar and within minutes a song is finished. Sometimes I'll be strumming a guitar or feeling my way on the piano and suddenly I hit upon something. I don't go to those instruments necessarily to write, I go there for solace. . . comfort. What comes out of it is an act of God. I just never know.

BG: What do you think of Oasis?

MM: I like them. I like their sound. . . (pauses) they don't baffle me.

BG: What do you mean?

MM: They don't baffle me like Brian Wilson or George Martin do. . . in their arrangements. Oasis never makes me talk to myself but yeah, I like them. Lets see what more they have in them.

BG: Who baffles you now?

MM: Hootie and the Blowfish. How did that happen (laughter)?

BG: Seriously, who making records today makes you walk around talking to yourself?

MM: (after a long 30 seconds) I don't know. . . no one since Nirvana. His (Kurt Cobain's) chord structures and arrangements kill me. His voice and what he does with it. . . the whole thing intrigues me still. He makes me still talk to myself (voice trails off).

BG: Is there a unified pop community here in New York? Do bands pool their talents for all night pop shows?

MM: Those shows happen every once in a while. New York's cup is not running over with so-called pop bands. There are a handful of working bands and we try to share bills when the clubs are feeling kindly. A number of us are trying to keep the snowball effectively moving.

BG: Seattle has a somewhat protective brotherly bond amongst its local musicians. . . almost like an inner-fraternity. Does that attitude exist here?

MM: You know. . . . . . (with eyes closed, Michael begins to rock back and forth as he sits on his floor in Indian fashion. I can sense the wheels turning as he takes a minute to think over his answer). . . I'll probably get into trouble with this but. . . (speaking slowly) it's at a point now where I doubt the "we're all in this together" principle. The more press that The Rooks get, the more grumbling I hear from so-called friends. There is a small amount of blood spilled from back-stabbing comments. When you really scratch away the happy pop mask, you realize that a lot of people are just concerned with themselves. It's strange. . . it's a lesson in behavior and a lesson in how self-preservation sleeps with jealousy. On the other hand, there are some bands like Bubble and House Of Usher (both New York City bands) who go to great lengths to keep us all in the game together. It's a sorry day when the backlash knocks at your door. (With voice rising steadily) Everyone talks behind everyone else! Look, I'm also a part of it. I wear no halo, but most times, I hope for the best for everyone. It's always pathetically petty. The pop community isn't as close as you would think. . . or hope for. Whatever.

BG: Thatís a pretty candid statement.

MM: I know what goes on. I hear the footsteps behind me. . . Kristin knows. We're not deaf and blind. It really wears us down sometimes. The stories that go around are unbelievable. It's not just about making good music. The competition gets really dark sometimes. It's what others will do to get themselves to a certain level. At times, that journey is lead by insecurities.

BG: You went to Los Angeles last year and played some shows. Is the scene there any different, from your point of view?

MM: We went there for a singular reason and played under a specific tent that was called Poptopia (L.A.'s first annual Pop festival). Under that circumstance, the whole of Los Angeles pop was brought together, which made it look like a large united fellowship. Being a New Yorker who spent a limited amount of time in California, I can't answer that question with certainty. Yes, it did seem like Los Angeles has opened her arms to the pop guild, but I only saw it for two weeks. You would have to ask Twenty Cent Crush or the Wondermints. . . bands who thrive there. I often wonder if Poptopia could be possible here. And you know, I'm not sure. Tastes are too diverse. The sewers are not overflowing with pop bands in this town.

Another ringing telephone. This time the one-sided conversation concerns an upcoming recording session for The Rooks' next album. I find out later that the caller is ex-Records lead guitarist Huw Gower, who'll make a guest appearance on a song called "India." Ironically, guitarist Gower will be playing a recorder on this track.

BG: What do you think the future holds for bands like yours? I am such a pop fanatic that if it were up to me, people who make music like you would rule the airwaves. I have so much great music in my collection from bands who nobody knows about and I think, where is the justice?

MM: Again, look at the walls Oasis have broken through. On the other hand, how many records (I love the fact that he still uses the term records) do Teenage Fanclub push? The industry last year got killed. Sales are way off and ninety something percent of all records released in 1996 sold a total to an average of around 4,000 units per artist.

BG: Is that true?

MM: Yes. I just read something about that recently and I know what's happening, because I have a lot of friends who are in the trenches in the music industry. The bomb has been dropped.

BG: What do you think accounts for such a dramatic drop off?

MM: Well, bands no longer build a fan base. MTV has buried that in so many ways.

BG: How?

MM: Well, a heavy rotation video guarantees a million sales. If a video comes out of nowhere, and an unknown band is suddenly king of the hill, the listener buying that record bases his purchase on the strength of that one video clip. It's like a quick fix. That said band hasn't had the chance to build a fan base via live shows or successive album releases. Their audience has not had a long term chance to expand .

BG: Why couldn't that same heavy rotation video initiate a fan base?

MM: A lot of kids buy a record just for that one MTV song and then move on to the next band with a hot video. I think Gin Blossoms got caught in the middle of that. Their record skyrocketed due to the video and then. . . forgotten. Kids then went on to buy No Doubt or somebody. It's just one example.. In the end, everything hinges on a band's ability to consistently produce good music. Gathering fans can take years and you need a record label to have confidence in you to stand by you through the first few years, which probably includes poor record sales. Artist development is also a dead concept at labels. That used to be the saving grace for a lot of acts. A group didn't have to worry so much if the first number of albums didn't sell. Labels knew that with time, success would be evidential. Now, if you miss on the first try you are dead. . . most times. Another reason is that a lot of mediocre bands were signed to labels, which watered down the focus in marketing and priority. The rosters have grown too big. . . like too many sick fish in a small pool. Now everyone is cutting their rosters in half just to keep alive. Also, in a sad way, I don't think music is as meaningful to kids now as it was when I was growing up. Their attention spans have shortened. A lot of their time is spent with computers. Computers have become virtual home entertainment centers. Music is secondary. Where I would get lost with records, kids are now doing that with a screen. The bottom line is, too many lousy bands are getting signed and that's one of the reasons why kids are losing interest.

BG: Does this worry you?

MM: No. . . not at all. It saddens me. I don't let the climate dictate our movements. We are still going to make the records anyhow. We're lucky. We continue to have some people who enjoy our work. If the empire falls, weíll just record in a fallout shelter (laughs).

BG: When is the next album due to become available?

MM: Sometime this year (he says with a giggle). It was supposed to be ready for the fall and then in early 1997. I cannot tell a lie. I'm not sure. We have a good amount of work to go yet so. . . I don't know.

BG: What is the hold-up?

MM: Budget as usual. Always money. It's always our roadblock or. . . workblock, I should say.


I got very excited when Michael asked if I would like to hear something from the new album. "These are only works in progress," he warned, "with a lot of the musical embellishments and harmonies absent."

The first song he played was called "Happenstance." This lacked Pinell guitar work but bass player Anne's lines make for a delightful ride. Michael's voice is strong with positive exuberance and Patrick drums with total confidence. An entire musical section was missing in the middle, only kept intact by Yourellís hi-hat/kick drum tandem. "We have to fill that section in" yelled Mazzarella over the sonic rise of the newest Rooks' magic. I can't wait to see what he does with it.

"In the Neighborhood" is sublime from the start. Kristin's electric 12-string rings in arpeggioed gaits and a spanish style guitar line smiles out of nowhere. The rhythm section is once again a fine musical union skipping in a warming, moderate tempo. Is that a bass solo I hear at the end? Terrific.

The final song he plays for me (I could do this all night) is a rocker straight out of the shoot. "Sometimes" has the same potency that their lead off track on the debut, "Love Said To Me," displayed three years ago. Only now, the maturity and time spent together escalate the band to a higher level of rock and roll. None of these tracks were complete when I heard them, but as far as I'm concerned, if they went out sans backing harmonies and decorations, they would still blow away most of what's out there now. If the music I heard is any hint to what The Rooks are going to give to the pop world with their next effort, I suggest that you the reader, right now, save every penny you have and grab this diamond the day it comes out. Buy one for a friend. . . or a friend of a friend.