Many months ago, I had the pleasure to interview Michael Mazzarella of The Rooks. At the time, Mazzarella was absorbed in some personal traumas which included the recent death of a very close friend and the frustrating inability for his band to complete the long-awaited album "A Wishing Well" The album had already been a year overdue and Mazzarella's pessimistic demeanor didn't make me feel like we would hear any new music from The Rooks anytime soon.
Numerous topics were touched upon and some readers may feel that the occasionally heavy-handed questions were unnecessary, knowing that Mazzarella is after all, a pop musician. The honesty in which he answered each question and the obvious passion he holds for the music he makes had me rolling with the flow of spontaneity. Some may ask "Who the hell is he anyway?" That is your prerogative. If you are a Rooks fan like me, I think you will welcome this lengthy conversation with one of pop's best songwriters today. If The Rooks aren't your cup of tea, then don't waste your time.
Sarah Cavallo
Atlantis Here They Come...
The Great Lost Rooks Album
By Sarah Cavallo
Imagine being part of a small excavation team on the verge of discovering an unknown gem, skeletal remains from the missing link or a scroll from that most unfortunate city west of Gibraltar, Atlantis. Your crew toils and digs and as the sun melts into nothingness, you decide to call it a day. Morning awakens and it's back to the site, as incredible excitement permeates throughout and suddenly... SHOCK...HORROR...DISAPPOINTMENT!!! Every precious crevice and carefully sculpted earth-opening is mysteriously filled in. Back to square inch one. Now let's say you dig a hole ten feet deep and the next day the hole is only four feet deep. Frustrating? Yes! Possible? You bet!
This is the story of a small yet very determined and focused excavation unit. What makes this lot different from any you'll find on the Discovery Channel is that their tools are stamped by such labels as Fender and Gibson and Pearl. They often assemble in the middle of the night and their landscapes are surrounded by wheeling tape reels and machines with a lot of knobs and faders. Their compressors are different than those of others in the mining field. Walkie talkies are unnecessary on their job site. Talk back microphones suit them just fine.
Rock & Roll is famous for lining up legendary, unreleased masterpieces by genius-boy halcyon day artistes and then standing back to watch these rarely heard virtu evolve into mythic mountains. Brian Wilson's Smile, Buffalo Springfield's Stampede and Springsteen's The Ties That Bind. Diamonds buried under second-guesses and record company catalog red tape. How about Dylan's original unreleased Blood On The Tracks or The Rooks' A Wishing Well. What was that? Yeah, you read it right, A Wishing Well.
Ok, I'm no fool and I'm not about to put my credibility on the line by suggesting that The Rooks are in the same league as genius Wilson or The Boss. But hang on, maybe they are the cream of today's new crop. You may or may not have heard of them and you're probably unaware of the fact that they have twenty-something songs available on CD. You may be surprised to find that they have recorded one of the pop classics (so says Rhino records) of the 1990's. They have. It's called Reasons and it's a mini-masterpiece wrapped in candyfloss guitars and Lennonesque jangle pop shimmer.
Wait a minute! Where did all that wasted print about excavating and Discovery Channel crap come from you ask? Here goes. This is classic three steps forward, two steps back. This is running under water and stepping in quicksand all at once. This is The Rooks and their never-ending battle to finish something they started well over a year ago. This is frustration and perseverance to the nth degree. This is about the great long lost Rooks album A Wishing Well.
Allow me to explain. It's been quite a long time since we pop fans have been given the opportunity to hear something new from those Rooks. An EP, (Chimes released in the fall of 1995) consisting of high-caliber melodies and musicianship was great, but where's the damn follow-up for Pete's sake? I've read in various articles about something called A Wishing Well and so on and so forth. What went wrong you ask? EVERYTHING!
In order: The Rooks (Guardian Records), A Double Dose Of Pop and Chimes (both on Not Lame). You'd think The Rooks would be chomping through the proverbial bit to get another album or something out. Maybe it's because there are two chicks in the band (Kristin Pinell and Anne Benkovitz), you know how girls are. They take forever to get ready. Maybe it's because their leader/singer/songwriter/producer (Michael Mazzarella) is so anal that he won't let the tapes roll until the moon is a certain whiter shade of pale. Maybe their drummer (Patrick Yourell) just can't get off the couch as long as there's a Simpson's re-run playing somewhere. OR...maybe it's because money is always tight or just maybe it's because their engineer/best friend (Gary Wade) recently passed away, leaving in his wake a band with a reputation for releasing high-quality pop and leaving them with a less than half-finished full-length tease. Maybe there was some depression and soul searching thrown in for good measure. I wonder if tapes being eaten by unruly recording machines had anything to do with it. Ups and downs and downs and downs. So, herein lies the story of The Rooks and their overly anticipated A Wishing Well, their great lost gem. Will it ever come out? Mazzarella smiles and frowns and looks into his beer glass, smile gone now, and mutters "I don't know." Upon my visit to New York I had a chance to hear a lot of the very unfinished A Wishing Well when I met Michael in the heart of Manhattan's culturally rich Upper West Side. This music has what it takes to get rumors going about a great woulda/coulda. Let me tell you that if this thing ever comes out, it's going to be one of the finest melodic splashes that's hit the pop pool in a long time. "Meditation," a slow meandering bass line and exquisite snaking guitar around a vocal melody that could make McCartney's puppy eyes well up. "Maybe," a powerhouse chordal roar with fuzz guitar chainsaw bite. "India," recorders and mellotrons melting around soft acoustic guitars with a falsetto sung like voices dancing on wind. "Girl Cried Nico," classic pop right out of the shute with big guitars and even bigger voices falling from the sky...WHEW! There's lots more.
This interview took place on a Friday night in the lower parts of New York City. October is perfect for bar hopping. Sometimes you sit at the bar and other times you find a vacant table outside. We did both. Hell, I have an expense account, let's go. A friend interviewed Michael earlier in the year and I was slightly jealous that I wasn't able to grab the slot. There are plenty of magazines out there. My time will come I told myself. It came. He's an interesting guy. He's even better when the beers are flowing like bloodwine and when the answers require some thought.
If you're only paying half-attention, his deep honesty can be mistaken for arrogance, but on closer examination you soon realize that here he is, the real thing. The genuine article who lives and breathes music and one who really walks the walk. Mazzarella has earned the right to "sound off" because he's been working in the coal mines for so long now that he can find gold blindfolded. He's been in the trenches and the mud is up to his chin. He is so serious about living the life of a music maker that he continues to exist in a minuscule, low rent, dormitory style room, complete with a hallway bathroom (shared with 5 others) and spends most of his time listening to every type of music in his quest to find that magical, musical El Dorado. The joy that obviously overtakes him when he's trying to make a point about a piece of music that means everything to him (i.e. Nilsson's "I Said Goodbye To Me") is so endearing that you want to take him home for milk and cookies. His facial expressions tell you that here's a guy who lives for the sound of a great song.
I treated this assignment as if I were interviewing Mick Jagger. I figured I'd better get it all in now while the getting is good and easy. Who knows, he may be out of reach this time next year. I knew I was armed with way too many questions but what the heck, if he'll talk all night, I've got a bag full of blank tapes.
Scene I: Bar on Avenue B, corner table, dark, beer, tape rolls.
SC: What kind of year has this been for you?
MM: Just a year...like all the rest. Different colors on a different page.
SC: Come on. Didn't some untimely event happen that marks this apart from other years?
MM: Maybe. Every year hands me down an unexpected happening in its own special way. The only reason this is different is because you happen to know about it...it got a bit of press or someone told you about it.
SC: So the passing of Gary Wade (Mr. Wade died of luekemia at age 36) is just another bead in a string of unfortunate circumstances that comes along every year, and that's it?
MM: (slowly responding) I didn't say that.
SC: Why don't you fill me in then? Certainly Gary's death has played a major role in The Rooks still sitting on an album that was started over a year ago.
MM: We've graduated to standing, thank you (half smile). What do you want? (clearly agitated, Mazzarella was obviously not yet ready to discuss Wade. Although I quickly realized my inappropriate timing, I continued on as I had already jumped into the fire). He was one of my best friends. He engineered every note this band had ever recorded up until then. He told me his secrets and troubles. I saw him break down and watched him fade as he waited for his mom to die of brain cancer. I got drunk with him and made some music with him. My band trusted him and he was my friend.(sarcastically) Is that enough for your tape recorder?
SC: Did you lose yourself?
MM: I dropped out for a while, yeah. It's an acquired taste...you get used to it. It's not the first time and it won't be the last but...this one stung.
SC: Did it ever hurt like that before?
MM: Sure. My mother, Munson (baseball guy), Lennon (Beatle), Nilsson (hip crooner)...Kurt (grunge God).
SC: With all due respect, out of the aforementioned, you only really knew your mom.
MM: You can believe that if you want to. These people got me through all the quirky underpinnings of teenage confusion. These people taught me how to dream and hope to be a big noise someday. So did Gary. He won...we did it together.
SC: Are you a big noise yet?
MM: I'm a legend in my own heart. Only in the sense that I'm happy and proud to be where I am. I'm a nobody on the charts of wannabes but I work hard and try my best. That's a big enough noise for me.
SC: Where were you when you found out about Gary?
MM: I was sleeping. I got the wake-up call on a Sunday morning and I haven't slept ever since. His girlfriend rang and through her indecipherable hysteria I got the message all too quickly.
SC: How soon after did you start to realize the implications of Gary not being around to help you complete A Wishing Well?
MM: There was a period of comatose...a long long time. I couldn't face it with any enthusiasm and I still haven't gotten it back yet. I've been going through motions for a long time now. My heart was torpedoed and I'm still in the water trying to retrieve it.
SC: Will this have an effect on the music overall in the final outcome?
MM: It might turn out better. When I do return to form it's going to be good. I'm making a record for me AND him now. I used to want this next album to be one of the best records to come out in the past 30 years. I prayed for strength to keep myself focused and I wanted to blow everyone's heads off with this album. That was when Gary was still here. Now I just want to make an album he would have been proud to be a part of. My goal for the album has less of a horizon but the nearby images are more acute.
SC: How has losing Gary affected the rest of the band?
MM: I don't know. We've never...strangely enough, had a dialogue about it. Maybe I've spoken to Patrick about it once or twice but we've never exorcised any pain collectively. Any mourning has been kept under individual roofs. We tiptoed around each other for a period. I don't know how often they think of him. I can't answer that question. I know he's missed by them. (long silence) I think about him every day. He was my friend.
SC: Has this tragedy put a change in the making of the album?
MM: How do you mean?
SC: Did it make you alter any of the music or did you go back and re-work any of it...did arrangements change or were there any songs scratched from or added to your original plan?
MM: Nope. The map is still the same. Only the seasons have changed more than once since we started this thing. This was to be out a long time ago
SC: What other factors are involved in the hold-up of this album?
MM: Countless circumstances involving faulty and unmaintained equipment, numerous tape transfers from analog to digital and back to analog again (tech talk, I guess). We've lost tracks because of tape drop-outs. Whatever...the wall kept getting higher and some days you don't have the strength to scale it anymore. There are sessions where we are booked for ten hours and everything falls apart within 90 minutes so it's...end of session, pissed off again. You walk out with not too much more printed to tape than you had the previous day. This really wears you down. Bruce from Not Lame is convinced that the making of this album is cursed, or at least somebody, SOMEWHERE has decided to slow down the process of making it, for some unknown reason. It is very difficult to be creative when you cannot gather any momentum.
SC: The unfinished songs that I heard this afternoon are really great. Can you yourself hear what is going on and see how wonderful these songs are turning out, or have you become so burned out...
MM: I know in my heart of hearts that there is something happening with the album that will make it our best work to date. On the other hand, I get fed up with how long it has taken us to get from A to B. It seems that the hour-long drive has taken a month. The train falls off of its tracks every hundred yards and then it takes another half day to make that train operational again. It's getting embarrassing already. The press keep asking about it and I have to come up with some half-hearted excuse as to why this band cannot enter into a studio and sit down and record an album. All of our peers must be asking themselves the same question. What has been taking this band so long? It's not like we're in there doing Sgt. Pepper. It's also down to not always having the money to get in there right away as well.
SC: Now that sessions have resumed, who sits in the engineer's seat these days?
MM: My friend David (Domanich).
SC: Did you ever work with him before?
MM: He engineered the piano tracking session on "House Of Fortune" (Chimes)... but I knew him long before that from a previous project that I was working on with another band.
SC: How is it different than it was working with Gary Wade?
MM: It's the same. We have the same chemistry. He knew Gary as well and the three of us hit it off straight away. I had fallen out of touch with David for a time and was concerned about finding someone to help me finish this album. VERY concerned. After Gary died and I was able to get some sort of footing back on the ground, I trusted God and time and knew something would happen. In fact, someone asked me, if l had one choice, who would I choose to finish the album with and my answer was David. By some mysterious miracle, two weeks later he rang me out of the blue, as he had just heard about Gary's passing, which had been some two months prior. We had a short meeting and there we went. A week later I did my first session in quite a long time. He's the best...one of my favorite people of all time.
SC: Do you realize how lucky you are to fall into a situation like that?
MM: Blessed...I think is the word.
SC: Is it possible that the long span in-between releases may hurt the visibility of the band?
MM: I don't think we are at a great risk considering the level we exist on at the moment. I hope that our fans realize that these albums are created on small budgets and any wrench thrown into the works can upset the balance for many months. I am not happy that so much time passes in-between records. In a perfect world, I would love the opportunity to put out two albums a year. Then again, there is no such reality as a perfect world. We really do try our best with what we have.
SC: Methods Of'A Mad Rook...there is a rumor that such a creature will soon be released. What is this exactly?
MM: Bruce Brodeen from Not Lame Records knows better than anyone about the trials and sorrows this band is going through to try and complete A Wishing Well. He is also sympathetic to those fans who are waiting to hear new Rooks material. Being very consumer oriented, he thought it would be a fine idea to do a limited run (500 copies) of some of my very crudely recorded home demo recordings.
SC: That sounds fun.
MM: Well...maybe. I wasn't too keen on the idea at the outset, but I spoke with some friends whose opinions I trusted and they thought it was a good idea, especially with the prospect of it being a limited pressing. You know, collectors item and all that.
SC: It sounds like a great idea and I want one. Which songs did you choose?
MM: Bruce had the final decision on the selections. I simply handed over to him a batch of tapes and he wallowed through them. The songs for the most part, have never been heard before. There are one or two from the next album in demo form ("I'm Not A Joker" and "Happenstance") along with two others that had been recorded for previous releases ("Reasons" and "In A Pinwheel Spin").
SC: What was the cause for your hesitation concerning such a release?
MM: These (demo) songs are recorded in the most primitive manner and they certainly were not created to be heard by the pubic at large, although our public is not very large (laughing). I take no great care when recording these songs alone at home and have very little regard for the perfect take and even less regard for harmonies being sung in perfect pitch or guitars and pianos being in good tune. These are mainly fast sketches for myself to evaluate the songs and then maybe pass them along to The Rooks. It's not that I'm paranoid about it...my initial question to Bruce was 'who is going to care about these recordings in the first place?' I thought that putting something like these demos out at this somewhat early public stage of the band’s life was a bit pretentious.
SC: I don't think so. I feel it's a good way to fill in the gap between albums and it gives Rooks fans a sense of something new to look forward to. Will this be in record stores?
MM: No, only via mail order through the Not Lame Recording Company (1136 E. Stuart St. Bldg. #2/Unit 2040 Fort Collins, CO. 80525 Phone: 970-407-0250). All of the 500 will be hand-numbered with a promise to never do another run. Let's see what happens.
Scene II: Bar on Avenue A. Pinball machine, corner window, more beer and a fresh tape.
It was time to move on to another bar with my tape recorder safely tucked in a shoulder bag. We headed to another Lower East Side establishment called The Sidewalk Cafe. More beer and more interview. Michael seemed to be fairly known here as musicians and others would periodically come up to him for a chat and he would fill them in with the most recent comings and goings in the world of The Rooks, their recording ventures and his current frame of mind. A kindly chap named "Scarecrow" buzzed by with a smile and a wave, leaving us to continue.
SC: What was your first exposure to music?
MM: Radio and records my parents would play, mostly 45's with some 78's snuck in for good measure.
SC: What's the first song you remember hearing?
MM: "Old Man River" sung by my father. Everywhere I went it was "Old Man River" and he even sang it better than Elvis (big smile).
SC: IM-PRESS-IVE!
MM: Yeah, that's him. I think he's always fancied being a Presley/Sinatra type.
SC: Can you read music?
MM: Not one note. It's all primitive ear training. It doesn't really matter to me either way...actually it does. I'd rather not have the ability to read music 'cause then it gets too much like math and I've always hated mathematics. I always dug creative writing more than swapping numbers from left to right margins.
SC: Does it bother you that your music hasn't gotten exposure to the point of an international following or MTV video opportunities?
MM: It doesn't bother me because I cannot control something like that. It would bother me if I thought I'd missed my mark in the recording of a song. That's closer to home and a bit more realistic. I'm pleased if our records keep getting stronger with a bit more depth and texture. I only really care about making recordings and I'd rather not get caught up in the game that most everybody else tries to play. I'm tired of 'capture the flag' because most times the flag waves from a very unsteady pole.
SC: So you feel that recording is paramount over performing?
MM: If you ask Patrick the same question, he would probably tell you the opposite because being a drummer and not a songwriter, I suspect the act of drumming keeps him up and going. I'm not sure recording projects are number one on his list, as he plays his parts and then steps away while the rest of the recording process unfolds. He gets his kicks playing his drums in front of an audience and I get mine in the confines of the recording studio. Whatever exposure this band gets is going to have its genesis, I think, with the music that we RECORD. The live performance exposure will follow that. My goal is to make the best sound paintings we can and hope everything happens from there. They won't fill the hall to see you if you don’t have a song to sell.
SC: Sell or sing?.
MM: It's the same thing, right? You can sing to a crowd of ten people all you want to but so what. You need to sell that song to a wide and vast audience to be able to come home with the spoils.
SC: Would you rather have been a Beatle or a Beach Boy?
MM: Beatle...I hate the beach and I'm not too keen on summer...the heat...can't exist in the heat. I'm from New England. Snow...cold.
SC: That's it. It only comes down to climate for you?
MM: For now. At this moment I'm very happy where I am.
SC: Where does Kristin Pinell get her talent for writing incredible guitar hooks with a combination of menace and finesse?
MM: Probably The Runaways, Byrds and Led Zeppelin...and a lot of beer.
SC: Is what she does something that you've just grown accustomed to and don't really pay that much attention to or...
MM: On the contrary...she's the best I've ever played with...ever.
SC: Why?
MM: She is a professional with a great focus and she always strives to bring the best she can offer to every song she's involved with. We treat these songs as fragile children who need to be looked after. My work...which in turn is her work as well, is in good hands because she cares and that's the most important aspect of creation. Taking care and time to make sure your vision is stated clearly and then taken to the highest level possible.
SC: Do you ever see yourself putting the guitar away for good to do something else?
MM: Are you asking me what I plan to do with my life when I grow up?
SC: No, because I think you are great at what you do and I only ask because I realize the industry often shuns bands who are over the age of 25.
MM: Listen (rolling eyes), this is my job. This is what I have chosen to do. As you write articles, and he (pointing to a stranger at the bar) sells insurance and she (to waitress) serves drinks, I strum a guitar. I pay no mind to the industry because I don't compose for the industry. I don't drag my gear all over town and I don't put in 18 hour days in the recording studio for the industry. I do it for the kid in England who happens to think some songs I've written are pretty good. I do it for the person who will play a Rooks CD after having a lousy day at work. I do it for my band members who place their time on the line every time they show up to perform without pay. I do it for me, not the industry.
SC: Your song "Reasons" on the Rhino Power Pop compilation (Poptopia: Power Pop Classics of the '90's- R2 72730) must have made the band feel good about getting some pretty major recognition. How did that whole situation come about?
MM: I'm not sure. I heard a series of board meetings took place with certain individuals and they all cast their choices and it trickled down from there.
SC: Were you suprised when you heard the news?
MM: Absolutely...and highly honored! Are you joking? Out of all of the songs that could have been chosen and Reasons is in there with Badfinger, Nick Lowe, Smithereens, Big Star...Matthew Sweet, Flamin'Groovies (Rhino's Power Pop Series also includes the decades of the '70's & '80's). It was a good surprise. It's nice to be noticed for your efforts.
SC: Did Rhino ask for your input on which song should be included or...
MM: No. They very much told me and I was happy to comply.
SC: That's the one I would have chosen myself.
MM: It's funny but they always say you can't make everyone happy. I recently read a review where some guy bitched about "Reasons" being involved. His argument was that "Colors" (from A Double Dose Of Pop) is a superior song, therefore it should have been on. So there you go.
SC: How much self-promotion do The Rooks do for themselves? I know it's hard to get the horse out of the gate when you're at a certain level and sometimes you have to give it a little kick yourself.
MM: I've never...we don't really do anything to promote ourselves really. I mean, I'm not one who goes through my phone book and rings everyone I know to get them to attend a performance. We DO send notices through the mail announcing dates for shows which is a pretty standard practice anyway. I guess...(Mazzarella stops himself and begins to laugh as if being reminded of some inside joke) you know, I used to go to... a whole group of friends would gather at The Kettle Of Fish (NYC bar) and The Rooks were in the juke box there. During the course of a long night of drinking, I would sneak off and put money in the machine and select about ten Rooks songs in a row (laughter). You know? I was drunk. Why not, right? I read somewhere that Elvis did the same thing in Memphis when his first Sun recordings were issued. He'd play his own records on the juke box (pausing to smile). So yeah, I would pretend to go to the bar or restroom or somewhere and pull out all this change and then quickly sneak back to the booth. (Pretending to be suprised) "Oh, what's that?" Suddenly "Love Said To Me" comes blaring out of the juke box. I'd look up and ask (using a voice of disbelief) "Oh, who played that?" (heavy laughter!!!) Whatever. It's no different than when Sonny & Cher used to phone radio stations for hours requesting their own singles. It's only good and innocent fun. I guess that's the closest I've come to self-promotion but I will say I was under the influence of the demon alcohol (smiling). Seriously though, one of my motives for playing Rooks on the juke box was because one of the waitresses there told me that they actually kept tallies on CDs played, and if you went very long without a play your CD was pulled from the machine and replaced with a more popular title...and I couldn't have that happen. (smiling) The game's over now...I've confessed.
SC: Where did the title A Wishing Well come from?
MM: My head.
SC: Any interesting little anecdote to go along with that?
MM: You know something ..I don't really remember. I've been carrying that title around in my brain for so long now that I don't really recall so much. I'm always clinging to little ideas like that and occasionally I lose where they come from. A long time ago, I planned on calling the album "All Saints Day" and then that lost out to A Wishing Well for some reason.
SC: For such a positive sounding title I find a strange irony in the fact that you've had all this difficulty completing it.
MM: Yeah, well maybe that means some good will arise when we do put it to rest.
SC: How did David feel about having to walk in and pick up on a project that was started by somebody else? Do you feel any sort of...
MM: No. David's enthusiasm for the music is great. He's been very respectful about what went down before he got here. He is an ace...a great engineer and even a greater man. He treats this music as if it were his own and he is not afraid to offer his opinions which I value immensely. I hope we can make records for the next twenty years together. I love working with him that much. (long pause) As Gary stood tall for this music and was prepared to climb over mountains to see that the outcome was just as perfect as possible, so does David work from that very same aesthetic.
SC: Was he aware of the troubles you had encountered before he came aboard?
MM: (sarcastic laugh) Most of the problems happened before his very eyes. He's been right there with me.
SC: Can we talk a little about some of the songs that I heard today? Perhaps you can give me a little synopsis about them. If this album never comes out (smiling), at least my readers can fantasize about what could have been.
MM. That's funny. Do you also have the nails in your pocket so when I get to the cross you can finish the job off?
SC: I couldn't resist. Let me throw a few titles at you (from A Wishing Well) and give me a brief thought on the lyrics. "Vows?" (the lyrics to this are so good it's scary)
MM: "Vows" is a situation that I found myself in with a girlfriend...I once turned to her with this cocky, ultra-suave attitude, you know, and I asked her...and I was VERY sure I knew what her answer would be... I turned to her and asked if she had one hour to live, who would she choose to spend that last 60 minutes with? I KNEW it was me and I sat there smiling. Complete (laughing) Sinatra-sure-of-yourself attitude...and the answer came back...her MOTHER (hysterical laughter)! I should have known. She was smarter than that. Me, completely crushed...down to earth like a screaming meteor. Now I don't ask questions (more laughs).
SC: "Maybe."
MM: That's me coming to terms with the fact that I've been a sinner. A sinner in the sense that maybe I've squandered some good time doing nothing, when I could have actually been making a contribution to something...or somebody. Foolish paranoia.
SC: "Happenstance."
MM: End of relationship...possibly boring. An overly-written about subject.
SC: But you approach your situations with an angle that makes your words very interesting to read. They're not "I broke up with my girlfriend and now I'm sad." There's always a certain twist in your approach. The part about walking around the world ("walked around the world mine is slightly smaller/rung another girl wish I hadn't called her") is a cool image (he graciously granted my request for lyric sheets as I was listening).
MM: Thank you. Well, I never try to over-write anything. Most times it's stream-of-consciousness, what's happening to me at the time writing.
SC: "India" (a beautiful, "Dear Prudence"-esque slice of magic. It's one of those rare melodies that draws you in, makes you sad and raises your spirits simultaneously).
MM: "India" is a pseudonym. I didn’t wish to expose her when I wrote it. I guess I was feeling a bit protective at the time...but on the other hand, if I wanted to blanket her in anonymity, I wouldn't have written it at all. That's always the contradiction I face when writing about real people and scenarios. You know, I'll keep the person nameless to a point...but then somehow you always overstep that boundary so you can make your point...your statement. It always allows the writer to get in the last word. It's an unfair game in that sense. Especially if you're a writer who people are buying...listening to. It’s always one-sided.
SC: "Sometimes" (a great rocker).
MM: That's me complaining about the world or something. I'd better "get me a pharaoh" or a witch doctor or a shaman...someone to hide behind when the sky starts falling. A healthy dose of apocalyptic pessimism.
SC: Do you think the world is going to end soon?
MM: (whincing) You're better off asking...Bono...or Michael Stipe.
SC: "Meditation" (talk about hypnotic, I was in a trance for ten minutes after hearing this one and it's not even finished).
MM: Another cryptic conversation piece...written in code.
SC: Which code?
MM: Mine.
SC: Is this person you write about schooled in this code?
MM: No (smiling), that's why I said it's always unfair.
SC: Then isn't it like dialoguing with yourself.
MM: Exactly.
SC: Is that fun?
MM: I never said it was a bicycle built for two...it's a nasty little ego trip. It's my song and I can make you look as inelegant and plain as I want to. It's artistic childish license. It's (Dylan's) "Positively 4th Street."
SC: "Meditation" isn't a nasty song though.
MM: No, it's not but we somehow ran down another path that led us to the conversation about the advantages of accusatorial writing...I don't know what happened.
SC: "Girl Cried Nico" (strong, immediate in-your-face hook)
MM: I was reading a story about the real Nico icon in some European magazine, and a friend of her's was describing a kind of typical week with Nico. Drugs, paranoia, eccentricity at play. It's a drug song really and to how low those abuses can take you. It's sort of my day in the life with Nico based solely on this one article I read. It's anyone's guess if the story is accurate or if it's just a nice piece of fiction.
SC: "Do You Have God?" (now, this really got me going. It jump-starts into an escalating melody line, asking the unfortunate recipient if she has God, "cos you don't have me to believe anymore"...wow!
MM: More dialogue. Questions without answers. Do you have God now that our sacred trust has been broken and what we thought was a real union has been torn apart by whatever tears people apart. We were two people, now standing alone after being so close for so long. We believed in each other and now maybe...MAYBE it's time to ground yourself in something a bit more...I don't know...spiritual, maybe. It was like me saying you don't have Michael Mazzarella to kick around anymore...the (Richard) Nixon thing. You had better seek something to ground you, because now you're on your own...(evil smile), little girl.
SC: How will this go over with the odd atheist out there?
MM: It's only a song. Switch over to the next song or...go buy the Spice Girls. It's not a preaching song. I'm not out to convert anyone. It's just me having a not-so-private word with someone. That's all.
SC: "In the Neighborhood" (possibly my favorite for now, opening with a slow, somehow all-knowing sounding guitar chime and a chorus that could have been on side two of Abbey Road).
MM: That piece was written a long time ago. It is a true story of something that happened to me which to this day goes unexplained. It borders on the paranormal and the eerie spiritual side of things. It's about being looked at as someone insane while trying to explain this very unorthodox situation to some very cynical people.
SC: What happened?
MM: In a nutshell, I was alone in this old, somewhat abandoned factory when I was younger. A band I was in turned this decrepit, dirty room into a rehearsal space. Something traumatic had just happened to me (Lennon's murder, I found out later) and at one point I hid away to this deserted space to be left alone. Out of nowhere I heard church bells ringing and strangely enough, there wasn't a church around for miles. I had never heard them prior to that day and I never heard them again after this incident. It was scary and strange, but at the same time I felt safe...as if something or someone was giving me a personal message...a message of hope. I realize it sounds like a fluff story now and all that, but it really did happen and to this day I cannot explain where those church bells came from.
SC: I'd like to ask you a question about some of your words. I get a feeling that many of your ideas and phrases are shrouded in almost Biblical inflections. Not so much in the strict sense of scripture, but there is often a modicum of spiritual awareness that shadows some of your work. I took some notes when I had your lyric sheets (for A Wishing Well) this afternoon and they supported my theory in what I had already picked up on in your earlier work. For example, In "Steeplechase" you talk about "mankind pushing itself around the bend" and "ashes upon ashes swelling upon the endless steeplechase." There's mention of a "lectionary" in "Monday Morning." "Do You Have God?" speaks for itself and you sing about the "serpent" ("pour the wine on my contrition, hand the serpent its permission"). Sometimes warns "everytime I think the world is gonna shine, it dies." "Happenstance" confesses "on my soul you don't bring me nothing/ on your soul I don't give you nothing " "Vows" forebodes "it's the end of the world so we'll stop and we'll qet it right." It was on a "Sunday morning" "In the Neighborhood" that you "heard church bells." You were "alone" and "answered back." But to whom? You talk about a "bigger picture" in "Maybe." Is this the afterlife? Then there's the part about "lay my body down by the riverside" because "it''s better than under the ground." Those are very inspired, doctrinal phrases bordering on a hidden, almost subliminal agenda. Am I barking up the wrong tree?
MM: I... I'm not a closet religious freak secretly working for the Church. They are only words...my words to try and express myself within the framework of music. Writers have often used textual, in this case maybe the Bible, expressions to form an image. I mean, I don't know...Elton John thanks the Lord for the people he had found in "Mona Lisas and Mad Hatters." Isn't that the same sort of thing?
SC: Well, it seems more recurrent in your work. Even when talking about a shattered relationship in War ("of mice and men, of love and hate and war and peace the end is simply a white flag away"), it just seems so refreshingly apostolic, rather than some throw away verse about being blue. Where does this come from?
MM: I can't say ..I don't know. It's just where my mind goes when I'm scribbling out words over music.
SC: Do you read the Bible?
MM: Faithfully? No. I know the Bible. My grandmother Katherine Maselek used to read it to me all the time when I was small. I still have her very same Bible now.
SC: Do you believe in God?
MM: Jesus and God, yes.
SC: Do you realize that Satan is in every bottle of beer you drink? I heard that on the PTL Club once.
MM: (sarcastic whince) Yeah well, he's also in the drinking water. That's where some say cancer comes from. He's in the crop fields and in the movies. I saw him at a Ramones show once (smiling). Right in the mosh pit.
SC: (laughing) How fitting.
MM: Let's get out of here.
Scene 3:
Mazzarella walked me around Greenwhich Village and at one point l wanted to check out the famous CBGB's. I stuck my head in and the non-musical noise coming from the stage was way too loud to continue our interview. Michael suggested that we go next door to The Gallery, CBGB's sister club with a more relaxed acoustic guitar oriented atmosphere. He led me downstairs and with pint in hand, we continued.
SC: Was there ever a time during the course of your A Wishing Well adventure when you thought that this might be one project to jump ship and start anew?
MM: No, because I have strong convictions about this album. Too much of it just seems too right. I've abandoned other projects before. In the summer of 1993, the band took to the studio to record a follow-up EP to our debut which was going to be called Waiting . We left for a European tour with the thing in various stages. Some songs were more fully recorded than others but even then, deep inside I knew that when we returned to New York, the project would be scrapped. We picked up later and re-recorded the songs for what turned into A Double Dose Of Pop.
SC: The song "Waiting" was going to be on it I presume. Were there any other songs from A Double Dose Of Pop that were originally intended for the Waiting EP?
MM: Sure. "Glitter Best," "Colors," "In A Pinwheel Spin," "War" (which ended up on Chimes) and "Praises."
SC: Do these failed Waiting tracks still exist?
MM: Yes, in unfinished form. They all have reference vocals and certain overdubs but I killed it off as soon as my instinct alarm sounded. It didn't feel right.
SC: Is that a hard instinct to develop? I bet bands release albums all the time knowing they didn't stick to their original intentions, for the worse.
MM: Oh yeah, you read about it all the time. Unless you're Madonna and have the power of the generating of a dollar behind you, it must be very hard to convince a record company to shelve a project that has already cost $75,000 to start fresh. Since I have taken care of the financing on most of our sessions, it's my loss financially. I'd rather throw the money out of the window than have an inferior record come out just to try and justify the cost.
SC: Are your best friends musicians?
MM: Probably. Creative people. I enjoy to be around people who are not afraid of expression. I know actors and writers and poets and those who push themselves to make themselves feel the freedom to develop and mature through inventiveness. It's not even on an intellectual field that we play on most times. We don't sit around discussing Diderot. We may find ourselves in a conversation concerning Carl Jung or Alfred Tennyson. Most times it's Chuck Berry and Bob Dylan though...along those lines.
SC: When did you decide to become a musician?
MM: Ed Sullivan show...Beatles. It took me a long time to get there though. I was mainly worried about which place the New York Yankees would finish or how many hits Munson (Thurman) would get against the Red Sox, when I was small. Music has been an important part of my life since I was very young. I learned the value of a good melody simply by switching on WDRC AM (in Hartford) on a transistor radio. Everything was good then. Everyone remembered how to write a hit. Now memories have faded and we’re left with Michael Bolton and K.D. Lang.
SC: Didn't the '60s and '70s produce their own Bolton's and Lang's?
MM: Well, back then it would have been... Tom Jones and Suzie Quatro. Much, much cooler.
SC: Is it a wise decision to strum a guitar for a living?
MM: It is if you're Sting. He owns a car.
SC: It's nearly impossible to break out and become a band that gains international fame. Doesn't this thought cross your mind and do you ever second-guess yourself in your decision to become a songwriter?
MM: No, never. Many people I know loathe their own existence and wish that their yards of grass could be as green as mine, even though they make an infinitely larger amount of cash than I do but with much less freedom. People are afraid to be free. They are held hostage by their weekly paychecks...shackled by green bits of paper. I may struggle to pay bills every month but I am free to do as I please which is...to be a songwriter. A WRITER OF SONGS! No money, but artistic freedom to play guitar and sing without the distraction of having to bow down to the boss with the Italian shoes.
SC: Are you suggesting that everyone leave their jobs to go sit under trees and write poetry or learn how to play the piano so one day they can possibly write a song?
MM: Yes...if they really want to write a great poem or become a fine musician by all means yes. If you want to work the computer and get paid for it, that's fine. If you want to sell real-estate then sell real-estate. My point is when the weekend comes, I don't want to listen to you complain about your work for the next three hours. You'll never hear me complaining about having to write a song. People have regrets all the time. They regret getting married. Some may even regret bringing children into all of this. People regret never letting go to see how the other side lives...the artists and free-thinkers who throw all caution to the wind. It's much safer to watch someone else do it on television or to read about it in Rolling Stone magazine. They would rather watch the lion trainer go into the cage from their seats than to go into it themselves. No, I am not telling everybody to quit their work and become hippies. Make a choice and do it well...and be happy doing it, and strive to be the best at whatever you choose to do. Then we'll all be better off . Unless your choice is to become a unabomber (laughing)... THEN learn how to play the piano instead.
SC: You never complain about having to pay your dues?
MM: I don't know what paying your dues means. I just do what needs to be done. Why, does it get better than this?
SC: Where were your dues paid?
MM: With The Broken Hearts in Hartford (Mazzarella's former band who released one album in 1985), trying to craft a presentable show to people, going to rehearsals three times a week and playing for no money. In England, alone with one suitcase, a guitar and an amp, combing through the English trades for ads for bands needing a rhythm guitarist/songwriter. In New York trying to hustle up enough cash to record our music. In my room, hoping that the next chord I strike may lead me down a path that takes me to the place where good songs are composed. Getting up enough strength and discipline to go into next week's Rooks rehearsal to see if we can remember how to play "Love Said To Me" for another show. The paying of dues should never stop because when they stop they also hold the key to the door that houses the need to always get better and better. We are always paying our dues. When you stop paying your dues, you become...Liza Minelli.
SC: What do you mean?
MM: A cartoon...caricature.
SC: Is there an advantage to coming from a place where you were unaccustomed to having the luxury of it all just given it you?
MM: Of course. History will tell you that. Look at the backgrounds of Presley, The Beatles, Robert Johnson, Beach Boys... The Smithereens. I'm not talking about a lower class/middle class thing, I mean in terms of dedication. These people WORKED!!! They worked until they got it right and then worked harder to make someone take notice.
SC: Are you a success?
MM: Yeah, I think so.
SC: On what level?
MM: I am accepted by my peers. I am sought out for my opinion on their behalves and there is a small but true following who believe in what I do. I get satisfaction out of my work with the band and I'm happy that people will pay money to see us perform. That's maybe the highest compliment, that people will pay hard-earned money to see you play.
SC: Can I ask you about the ring on your little finger? I noticed it today and it has been catching my eye all night for some reason. What's it say on it?
MM: It says HPHS and stands for Hartford Public High School.
SC: Your high school ring?
MM: No, my mother's. I took it off of her when she died in 1977.
SC: Do you ever take it off?
MM: No (staring at ring), never.
SC: Do you have a favorite place to write songs?
MM: My room...the one you were in today.
SC: I can see why. You have a really great vibe up there. There's a real calmness about the place.
MM: It's my home. It's my favorite place of all time. I get inspiration just by looking out over the courtyard (Mazzarella lives on the top floor of his building).
SC: What happens after A Wishing Well is finished and released? Do you take some time off from the recording studio? Do you sit back and wait for inspiration to arrive and begin writing for the next album?
MM: The next album is already written. It is then my duty to bring the new songs to the band so we can begin to round them off in a polished arrangement.
SC: It intrigues me that you already have the next album written.
MM: I write lots of songs...the album after that is written as well. You write a lot of bad to mediocre songs and once in a while you come up with a gem, BUT...you have to write a lot of garbage to be able to get to the good songs. It's all an exercise in writing.
Songwriting is like the lottery. Most times you lose, but there is going to be a time when you really hit upon something worth recording.
SC: It seems that you've won the lottery quite a few times.
MM: Well, I have boxes of work tapes at home and these boxes of hundreds of song ideas contain all the losing lottery tickets. I have tapes upon tapes, and most of the exercises on those tapes are fair or downright poorly written songs. The thing is, you'll know that a particular song is really going nowhere but you have to continue to see it through, because maybe you stumble onto a chord pattern that will take you to another world...so you abandon that song idea and start anew. The point is, you must continue and expect to fail before you can get the prize. It's sort of like an apprenticeship. Within that development through discipline you enter a stage where your work becomes more refined and then it's not so much the luck of the draw any longer. You can somewhat control how often your compositional skills hit the target. Then you realize that all those exercises in poor writing matured into something real and viable.
SC: You almost sound as if you could teach a course in songwriting.
MM: I can't. Most times it's tripping in the dark and trying to feel your way around. Once in a while you're able to touch something that you recognize as something good and you cling to that...whatever it is...for guidance.
SC: What is your goal as a songwriter and music maker?
MM: (staring into the distance with both hands clenched tightly around a pint of beer) To make people cry.
SC: How's that?
MM: To move people so much that the containment of their emotions are impossible to support. To shake the foundation of a person's stability where the heart-strings can no longer support a heavy heart. That's my goal. Sadness is good when it's triggered by art or beauty. I want to write songs that twist people up inside and make them think about things they've done and said...to think about people they miss and who are gone because of an abusive or sour relationship, lies and mistrust. I want people to learn about themselves by moving them to a place where words, sounds and melody corner them into a room of mirrors.
SC: How would you do that, and have you done it?
MM: I don't know how to do it exactly. I know I have been taken there myself.
SC: How?
MM: "Girl From The North Country" and "Boots Of Spanish Leather" (Dylan). "She Sang Hymns Out Of Tune" (Harry Nilsson), "The Dangling Conversation" or "Benedictus" (Simon & Garfunkel), "Both Sides Now" (Judy Collins), "Don't Worry Baby" (The Beach Boys), "Mr. Blue" (The Fleetwoods). Umm...I doubt The Rooks have recorded anything to make a person cry but that is one goal as a writer...to do that once in a while. I want to write pieces that tug and tug and tug until the listener comes to realize that MAYBE there's more to this music than "I'm Telling You Now" (Freddie and The Dreamers) or "Up, Up And Away" (The Fifth Dimension). Whatever..."If You Could Read My Mind" (Gordon Lightfoot), "The Lonely Sea" (The Beach Boys), "Vanished And Gone" (The Dave Rave Conspiracy), "Old Friends" (Simon & Garfunkel), "Cold Weather" (Mark Johnson), "4th Time Around" (Dylan)...all of those twirl me up inside. I hope only to have the luck to do that at least once. To compose a song that touches someone to the point of tears, then I'll know that I've created something worthwhile on a whole other level than songs as frivolous as "Night Writer" (The Rooks) or "Praises" (A Double Dose Of Pop).
SC: Where do songs come from...or more specifically, where do your songs come from?
MM: From books, television, newspaper articles, true situations, dreams, arguments, death and divorce, through drugs and drink, pain and suffering, victories and losses. Sometimes you steal ideas and hope you don't get pinched. It could be a phrase that's overheard or a single word can trigger an entire waterfall of ideas. I've been known to write complete songs from the sound of a word that appeals to me.
SC: Like?
MM: Umm..."Meditation" (A Wishing Well). I just like the word and the image alone was enough for me to draw myself a sound picture of what meditation would sound like if it made a sound. That's what we tried to accomplish in the recording. I mean. I've never really articulated that to the band, but the chord structure and phrasing and all sort of dictate that before it even gets to them. If it starts to fall off the mark, that's when I need to step in and re-shape it through communication with Kristin, Anne and Patrick.
SC: As I recall, you didn't sing the word "meditation" once in the song though.
MM: That's correct. There was no need for it. The word sparked the idea without me having to mention it at all, yet I think we captured a somewhat state of calm in the recording. The word "meditation" was enough to begin the process...the writing process. There are a batch of songs like that for me. "India" was the same. The word "India" was stuck on my brain for some reason one day and when I sat down to compose it, I tried to gather a feeling of...oh, I don't know...a kind of mystical afflatus if you will, and I also made a decision to make the word "India" a person to whom I was directing my feelings, all the while keeping a speck of that pacifiable mood in my idea of what "India" should sound like with acoustic guitars, recorders and mellotrons and things. Inspiration is like love. You have no control to conjure it up and when it decides to depart, you very much have to let it run its own course. We are the puppets, not the puppet masters.
SC: Who speaks to you musically? Which artists touch you the most?
MM: Well, there are lots. Beatles, Bob Dylan, Elvis, Ray Charles, Kurt Cobain, Peter Ham, Marlene Dietrich, Aretha Franklin, Harry Nilsson...(eyes closed), Agnelli and Rave, Creedence Clearwater Revival, Mozart, James Brown, Buddy Holly, Scarlatti, NRBQ, Pachelbel, Madeleine Peyroux, Ramones, Brian Wilson, Nick Drake, Stevie Wonder and Elton John, Billie Holiday, Daniel Johnston, The Beastie Boys, Tom Waits, Costello, Tammy & Jay (???), Simon & Garfunkel, Richard Thompson, Deborah Schwartz, Gordon Lightfoot, Sandy Denny...I can go on and on if you let me.
SC: How about new artists today?
MM: Well (long pause), I've got to respect anyone who is creative. It's so easy to slag off somebody who is trying to be creative whose work you don't necessarily care for. In the scheme of everything, SO WHAT!!! So and so didn't write a mediocre song to purposely ruin my day or personally betray my listening space. It's never that premeditated but people get SO UPSET and take it personally. Some people get so angry about a person writing a mediocre song...I mean, its only a song. I know artists who undergo complete top-to-bottom critiques which result in unfair character assassinations...not only from critics but from peers as well. As I get older, I try to keep in mind and perspective that these artists do what they do because they enjoy it or it makes them whole or whatever their reasons may be. I'm getting very weary of the behind-the-back lynching that goes down. I have so many friends who play music, act, write... that it's IMPOSSIBLE for me to like everything that goes on but I must try my hardest to think before I speak. I was not always this sympathetic and I occassionly catch myself falling back. I now realize that I don't have to like everything but I must ALWAYS be respectful. (shaking head) I've just made a short answer long to justify myself.
SC: Ok, who do you respect?
MM: A lot of the new music happening is coming from my friends or people I know on some level. It gets difficult for me to answer this question because I always leave people out without deliberate intention. It's not easy to name the entire list off the top. Agnelli & Rave are high on my list. Walter Clevenger, Richard Heyman. I dig the record I helped The Mockers record. Beatifics, Joe Mannix, George Usher, Gripweeds. Phil (Rosenthal) of Twenty Cent Crush is doing some great work now...Matthew Sweet, William Pears. Frank Bango, The Vacant Lot, Chris von Sneidern...I saw The Churchills somewhere and they were great. The Shambles... oh man too many! I can't remember. The Smithereens. I hold a special place for The Smithereens, not only because they are friends of mine but because they really opened up the door for a lot of bands like mine. They proved that music with melody and craftsmanship could still be an important genre. They were an inspiration to me. When I wrote "Circle Of Fools" (The Rooks), that was directly inspired by "Behind The Wall Of Sleep." (Pat) DiNizio played me a basement rehearsal demo right after he wrote it and brought it to the other guys. I think people have forgotten how important that band was. The pop musicians of today owe The Smithereens a certain amount of respect and debt.
SC: You said something before about stealing ideas. Does that happen often?
MM: That happens even when you don't know it happens. It's like leaving a store and then getting pulled aside by security and they find a brand new watch in your pocket and you swear you weren't even near the aisle that sells watches. It just got there SOMEHOW! It's the same with music. More people should steal because that's where good ideas come from. It's part of the homework...to study the classics and to find how that end result is achieved. If your songs aren't any good, that means you're not listening hard enough. It's the same with painting, acting and teaching. You must respect what happened before you and then learn from the ones who have turned their skills into a success. Steal is not a good word. Borrow is nicer...like a cup of sugar.
SC: As we sit here now, and I listen to you talk about songwriting and the inspirational aspect of that which I find very interesting, do you also sit around and have these same types of conversations with The Rooks?
MM: No...not really. I find I have these sorts of exchanges more with my friends who write songs either for themselves or for the bands they play in. There's really not a lot of talk when it comes to the music we make. I try to establish a route and try to dictate the song at the compositional stage. My bandmates will ask, Kristin does this often, what am I going for, but mainly it starts with me on a demo tape and they then take up their jobs from there. Sometimes the less talk the better. I think that is where the chemistry of the band comes in. Like-minded people trying to shape something into a cohesive form that's musical, and in the final outcome you hope the song beams with everyone's personal contribution being felt and heard.
SC: I read in an interview that you said you can see sound as color Are the colors in A Wishing Well going to be earth tones or a rainbow?
MM: Lots of colors. Right now there are lots of greens and blues. "India" is very yellow and orange/red and "Wish You Well" is violet at the moment.
SC: What's "In The Neighborhood?"
MM: Right now it's blue and silver but the hue will change a bit as we add onto it. I'm only telling you this because I've had a gallon of beer. Tomorrow I'll hate myself for talking to you this long.
SC: You've said nothing to embarrass yourself. I think the interview is going quite nicely.
MM: Yeah, well, my friends already think I'm off the deep-end.
SC: That's probably why they're your friends. They wouldn't want you any other way.
MM: Yeah well, that's debatable (smiling).
SC: How about women?
MM: How about them!
SC: Is there one in your life?
MM: I've not had a girlfriend in a long time. It's difficult to live the life that I lead and to expect someone to go along on the ride without a safety belt or safety net. I think I met my soul mate the last time around but... (looking away).
SC: That's pretty heavy. What happened?
MM: I don't think I should... (staring into glass)
SC: I'm sorry. I just thought I might get some insight into someone you may have written about.
MM: She has been the seed for a lot of my work, yes. Look, it's not that big of an issue (he was so unconvincing at this point, that I almost turned the recorder off. I didn't want to make him any more uncomfortable than he already appeared). This woman and I were very tight and then I decided to continue to write songs. I'm very difficult to be around when I'm in the creative process because I lose sight of everyone and everything around me, and need to lock myself away to compose.
SC: I can appreciate that but I'm sure that you don't drop off the face of the Earth for weeks at a time. Couldn't the two of you work around that?
MM: You have to understand that this was at a time when there was no Rooks and I was just some guy writing songs in a room, making very simplistic home recordings. There were no interviews, or tours or record sales, or record companies...or anything interesting happening. I think it got to a point where she may have asked herself, when is all of this going to end...or at least blossom? She never put any pressure on me, but I think she looked for a bit more stability for the future. I've gone off on a tangent now. That's only one small factor. The reality of the story is we just fell out with one another. We needed a break and the break has lasted about six years.
SC: Do you ever speak with her?
MM: All the time...she's the best. She has a boyfriend and her own life and I always pray for the best for her.
SC: Do you still write about her?
MM: I write for everybody these days (laughing).
SC: What will it take for you to find another relationship involvement?
MM: Another soul mate, I guess. I can't just date frivolously. Then it's just a game between me and her. I'm much better off alone with a James Brown record and the lights off. At least no one gets punished. She would have to be a creative sort with a great sense of humor for me to have any long term interest. But I never look in that direction. If anything is going to happen, it will take place when I least expect it to and probably with someone I least expect it with. I am so consumed with music that it's difficult to bring someone into this and expect them to accept it fully.
SC: Is there a lot of work left before you finish the new album?
MM: There's a fair share to go yet. I still have to deal with all of the outside players like cellists and violin players, viola, trumpet, trombone and oboe etc.
SC: That sounds like a lot to do yet. What happens if there are more road blocks?
MM: We crash through them...and then we go and see a movie...that's an in-joke.
SC: How many songs will be on it?
MM: (looking up at ceiling) Fourteen.. I've managed to lose count.
SC: What about the songs that I didn't get to hear today. Is there a reason why you didn't play them?
MM: Well...some are minus bass, lead guitars and background vocals and one doesn't even have a lead vocal on it yet. I tried to let you hear the ones that are on the cusp of completion. It's been so long that sometimes I'm even confused to where songs have been left off. I'm constantly having to reacquaint myself with what went down on prior sessions which is odd for me, because normally I have all of that under control. Sometimes it feels like we're recording on the isle of Atlantis and that at any moment our tapes could get swept under the ocean, leaving us without anything to show for our efforts. That's how I feel every time something else goes awry.
Scene IV:
It was now after midnight when Michael kindly placed me in a cab to take me to my friend's apartment on the Upper East Side. On the way there, I tried to recall everything we talked about for the last three and a half hours and I suddenly remembered something he said in between bar crawls.
I asked him if he'll ever write a song about his friend Gary Wade. As we crossed Second Avenue he broke into a slower pace and with his hands in his pockets, replied "No matter where life takes you, you have to be prepared to carry on and always push for the best." I thought then that his response had nothing to do with my question and now in the cab it hit me, that it had EVERYTHING to do with it.
I paid the taxi driver and decided to stroll around a bit. I came across a brightly lit fountain, reached into my purse, threw some change in and made a wish. I wished for The Rooks to get the recognition they truly deserve. I wished for Michael Mazzarella to someday finally realize that elusive, opaque, melodious dreamland that seems to possess him so profoundly and then I wished for all of us. All of us who wait for the arrival of the day when we can sit back and be swept away by the sounds of their newest creation, the great lost Rooks album...A Wishing Well.
(Sarah Cavallo is a freelance music journalist residing in London, England.)
