The month of August was full of Joe Iconis love at the Laurie Beechman where Joe and his crew performed almost every Monday night at 9:30 with a few special guests in between. I was lucky enough to get a good seat for his last show in the series where Annie Golden and Lisa Brescia were the guests of honor.
It's been a while since I've enjoyed a Rock and Roll Jamboree, and I know I gush about Iconis often, but this really is one of the best ways to view his work. It's one of the few theater events that even my non-theater going friends get excited for, which makes my heart really swell for a few reasons. First of all, it's nice to have something I can share with them, and the universality of the experience is wholly thanks to Joe's great music and the explosive passion of all the people that join him onstage. Watching the show and listening to some amazing new songs, I rediscovered what a great voice Joe is for our generation, capturing youthful energy and frustration, longing and confusion, and always humor that is never without consequence.
Annie Golden getting it with "Joey Is A Punk Rocker":
And the beautiful "Starting to Forget," sung by Lisa Brescia (this was followed by a touching story from Joe about how it was written for his grandfather...which was then followed by him scolding the cast for talking through his touching story about kazoos in the background):
So this blog post is a special one, if I do say so myself. A few weeks ago, the roster for the National Alliance for Musical Theatre was announced for the 2010 Festival of New Musicals. The festival itself is an event where writers and composers are able to show their works to members of the theatre industry in the form of 45 minute readings. Every year, 8 musicals are presented, and this year's selection boasts a slew of great writers and diverse subject matters. Please check out the full list of musicals here, and read about the writers as well.
I wanted to do something special to really highlight some of the talent that will be presenting their stuff at this year's festival, especially since it's an industry-only event. So in the weeks leading to the October 21-22 dates of the event, I'll try to highlight a show or a writer who has a show in the festival every few days in the coming weeks. To really get things going, however, I had the pleasure of sitting down with composer/writer Daniel Maté (who wrote lyrics and co-wrote the book with composer Will Aronson for the show The Trouble With Doug) in Prospect Park for an interview. Daniel was a 2010 recipient of the Jonathan Larson grant, is a two-time finalist for the New York City Hip Hop Karaoke Championship, and has his own custom songwriting business. Together, we discussed NAMT, being a slug, hip hop, and existentialism. Intrigued? Confused? Here is the transcript from our interview (and after the jump, check out more interview and youtube videos of his music):
(Daniel Maté singing "If I Wrote A Song")
Me: So I think I read somewhere that you said that you didn’t grow up with musical theatre necessarily. How did you get into it?
Daniel Maté: I definitely said that somewhere. What I meant is, I guess, I didn’t grow up all that aware of the history of American musicals, or surrounded by it as a general part of my cultural experience. Part of that was knee-jerk resistance to anything my parents thought I would enjoy – I remember deliberately not watching the movie of West Side Story for that reason.
If I actually look back, I was surrounded by certain particular musicals, certain soundtracks that I loved. So Fiddler on the Roof was a record that... this dates me a little bit... but an LP that my parents had. And growing up Jewish, I actually thought “Fiddler” was a sort of blueprint for what Jewish culture was supposed to sound like. I didn’t realize it was a Broadway show for not only for Jewish audiences. Little Shop of Horrors...the movie came out when I was 9 or 10. I loved it. And I went to a summer camp where we did a lot of singing and songs based on popular songs. Lot of theatre. And I acted most of my childhood and I played music most of my childhood and often I would do the two things together. So me saying I didn’t grow up around musicals, or didn’t like them, is a case of “the lady doth protest too much.”
I did develop an attitude about musicals though. That somehow there was a culture of musical theatre I wasn’t somehow a part of, so I had to have a chip on my shoulder about it. And that’s partly that I just wasn’t that familiar with it, and partly that I had a lot of assumptions, and partly that I didn’t want to open myself up to a form that takes time to get to know. I was, and am, an opinionated person, and unfortunately sometimes my opinions precede my knowledge. (Smiles.) That said, I probably still have an attitude about musicals.
I spent most of my 20s working odd jobs and doing music and theatre on the side. Acting, directing, collaborating on shows in my hometown in Vancouver. And also at the same time being a singer/songwriter. Ani DiFranco was sort of my idol; Bob Dylan and Tom Waits.
It was really when it came time to ask myself what do I want to do with my life, I had to face what do I really love, what do I care about? I realized pretty quickly it was music and theatre and I didn’t want to choose between them. And once I got over the idea that grad school wasn’t for me, I opened myself to the possibility, and a friend who was from New York said, “You need to check out NYU.” So I looked and saw there was a musical theatre writing program, and I was like, I love New York, but that’s not for me. And fortunately I have people in my life who kicked my ass and were like, “You’re a very theatrical and musical person and all of your songs tell stories and have a lot of character to them. Why don’t you take a leap into something you don’t quite know about?” And luckily I listened to them.
I applied and I got in. And in the program I spent 2 years facing how much I didn’t know and learning as much as I could. Also realizing I don’t have to know every lyric to every show to get the basic principles of what makes a good or bad musical and to figure out what it is that I want to write.
I had some big kind of epiphanies. Like realizing what Sondheim had to offer. I had him in a little box and that box didn’t include me. But the first Sondheim show I really encountered was Sunday in the Park with George and although I don’t think it’s a perfect show, it blew me away, both in terms of ambition and execution. I just got excited and thought, Wow, this guy is doing amazing things with language. It reminded me of my excitement in discovering really great rappers who are able to take command of a verse and master the art of flow. Suddenly you’re on their wave length. It was a long process of opening my mind and it still is.
Ask anyone who knows me and they will tell you that my absolute affinity for Joe Iconis and his work is no secret. I have dragged countless non-theatre friends to his concerts and have probably spent more money on his shows over the past year than I have on toiletries. There's something about his songs that is so infectious, addictive, universal, effortless, hilarious, and brutally honest that it's hard for me to really sum up why his work speaks to me the way it does.
In fact, the only ways I can really capture the essence of his songbook is through experience. The first time I went to a Rock 'N Roll Jamboree was two summers ago, and Joe opened his set with "Son of a Gun," which is still probably my favorite song of his to this day. Played by Joe himself, I instantly recognized the song as being excerpted in SPF's The Black Suits. And I remember sitting at the Laurie Beechman completely enthralled, moved by the poignancy and bitter realism of a song whose lyrics were all too familiar. Every one of Joe's songs tend to have a wicked sense of humor and sarcasm beneath the surface, but even in the kitschiest, most gimmicky of conceits, there's at least some kind of morsel of truth, something that transcends a simple song in a way that's not heavy-handed or self-serving.
So, rather than blathering on about the conceptual aspects of Joe's work, I figure I would do as many people are doing with the new year on the horizon and compile a list of my top 10 favorite Joe performances of 2009, to let you see what I love about Joe's music for yourself:
#10. "Everybody's at the Bar Without Me"
This is a fantastic song in its own right, but there were some politics concerning this being on the list. A primary factor is simply Katrina Rose Dideriksen. While Joe writes fantastic songs for girls, a lot of the songs in this list are male-heavy, so I thought I wanted to include a song where she really goes to town and show her stuff. In Things to Ruin, this song is also performed by Badia Farha, who adds her own sexy, humorous turn. So really, a song performed by two sexy ladies definitely deserves a spot on the countdown.
#9 "Son of a Gun"
If I were to make this list in the coming years, so long as Joe keeps performing this song, I will always include this song somewhere on there. The very raw, precise lyrics. The progression of an intimate metaphor. The way it inspires honest performance. Nothing will top the sensation of hearing this song for the first time, performed by Joe himself. But Jason "Sweet Tooth" Williams always brings it in performance. And Eric William Morris' performance in Things to Ruin has become a staple of the evening.
#8 "Guide to Success"
First of all, I love when Joe performs his own work (as I think I've mentioned a billion times before this). He surrounds himself with incredible talent who all perform his songs with commitment and heart. But when Joe sings his own stuff, you can hear the vulnerability in his craft. It's truly an incredible experience, and this song in particular, a tirade on the tyranny of industry, creates a moment of earnestness that is rarely observed.
#7 "Born This Morning (The Cicada Song)"
Things to Ruin in one of my favorite nights of Iconis tunes, and it's even survived the closing of The Zipper Factory. "Born This Morning" is an incredible opener, chock full of energy, catchiness, and swagger. Plus, it features the whole ensemble, and when you get all of those guys wailing their hearts out, nothing but genius can result.
#6 "Anymore"
Krysta Rodriguez is awesome. Joe Iconis is awesome. But it's when they come together in a musical dialog about lost connection that things get pretty fucking incredible. The lyrics aren't terribly sophisticated, but it's the clumsy but intimate words that get me every time.
#5 "Lisa"
Let me make one thing clear: Katrina has and will always sing the shit out of this song. She makes it sexy, passionate, and wonderfully courageous. But the first time I heard this song was in context in The Black Suits, sang by Jason Tam as the woefully conflicted John. There's something about the lack of confidence and sheer angst that he characterized in the song that really adds a story.
#4 "Rosalie"
It's about time that Ian Kagey stepped out from the Iconis band and had a song to rock out on. Not only do I love the funkiness of the music, but Ian's delivery is surprisingly soulful.
#3 "Girl, Your Days Are Numbered"
Incredible. On the aesthetic side, Jason in a Charlie Brown shirt and Katrina in a Max costume—what can be better? But add to that erratic and melodic music, along with the powerful voices of Sweet Tooth and Katrina, and this song becomes a rousing ballad of sorts.
#2 "Last on Land"
When I first heard this song, I enjoyed it but felt like it was a bit out of place with the rest of the music that evening. Also, with the samples of music I've been hearing of Blood Song of Love, I have a hard time grasping what exactly this show is going to be about/like. But when the haunting harmonies were still in my head weeks later, I knew that this highly evocative song is an example of Joe's capabilities in his future works.
#1 "It's All Good"
The first time I heard this song, one of the last numbers of The Black Suits, I distinctly remember how I felt in that moment. I was elated and also a little sad. This song seemed to sum up the entire show, the love of music and art, and I was upset because I knew that eventually the song would have to be over. It's hard not to feel a connection with the characters in this show and this song (whose cast is represented here, with the exception of Nick Blaemire who is substituted with Joe), and I was happy to see some kind of revival in this small space. It's an easy, unpretentious declaration of love for craft, a perfect description of how I feel about the genre, especially Joe's work.
