The recent history of American songcraft has many threads and traditions, and one of its most vibrant and timeless legacies is that of the singer/songwriter. The torch has been passed through many hands, from Charley Patton and Jimmie Rodgers to Woody Guthrie and Hank Williams and Doc Watson, from Bob Dylan and Phil Ochs and Townes van Zandt to Lucinda Williams and Ryan Adams...
Place such a musician in a group setting and you somehow amplify the song and its impact, and even the words are embellished with a special new strength.
Will Maranto understands that strength.
It wasn't so lomg ago that he was re-calibrating his expectations and understanding of the music business - with its ups and downs, pitfalls and rewards - and found himself taking stock and asking "What do I want?" before realizing "If I accomplish nothing else, I want to be in a good working band." This is the story of the realization of that simple goal, and more, and it begins in a smaller town up the road from Shreveport.
"I grew up in Blanchard," Maranto remembers, "and I went to St. John's and St. Joseph, 30 minutes from where I lived. My dad took us to school every day, and he'd always have KEEL on. This was the early '80s, there was lots of '60s music, all jumbled up with whatever, and that's where I got an appetite for a lot of that. Even at a young age, second or third grade, it exposed me to a lot of stuff and I kind of started to develop an ability to say 'now what does this sound like...'"
Young Will soon obtained his very first record (Billy Joel's An Innocent Man on cassette, a recording that remains a favorite), and from there his learning curve steepened upward through Tom Petty to George Harrison. Harrison's LP Cloud Nine caught Maranto's ear, and the discovery of the artist introduced both the Beatles and, along with Petty, the Traveling Wilburys, which begat knowledge of Dylan. "That was the kind of stuff that made me want to be in a band [and] playing that kind of music," he says. "Shortly after that, my next-door neighbor Bryan Copeland got an electric guitar. Not long after that I got one too, and really started learning to play."
His first band - toward the end of high school - dovetailed with some exposure with multi-track recording, about how the music he liked was actually produced: how all the elements fit together to create "...songs, and thus, songwriting." Early struggles produced efforts such as "Your Love is a Miracle," but it was fairly tough going. "I thought songwriting was really hard," Maranto remembers, "and how do you got from listening to the music you like to creating it? The natural inclination is to try to beat your head against the wall and emulate it." The plan in college was to write one song per month, and this led to a larger pool of songs - and confidence. Fast-forward a few more years, past that med-school decision, to a new phase in life as a resident MD at Shreveport's LSU-HSC hospital. Maranto worked with a friend from med school with which he'd made a record called That Great Connection in 1998, a blues aficionado named Joe Tynes. Through Tynes, Maranto met Wes McKinney, an MICU nurse who turned out to be "the key relationship that led to a lot of places. "We talked...we hit it off," he says of McKinney. "We started hosting this open-mic night at Semolina's of all places - we just had a great time."
Getting back to Gyspy Mountain, by 2006 they were on hiatus, so Maranto reassembled Retroverb, and a lineup of Maranto, Charlie Dempsey, Mike Gauthier, Jeremy Hale and Kenny Brown recorded Lost Letters in 2007-8, again at Premiere Digital (sadly now defunct after its owner's move to Dallas).
With Retroverb he was again working from the standpoint of the sole songwriter, and was pleased with the band's sound and recording. "It's not a big 'rock record,' but it's exactly the way I wanted it to be," he says. Listeners can get a taste of these bands' songs on the compilation CD Retroactive, an energetic good time that captures the particular grooves they access as a unit.
Gem "Hope You Understand" kicks things off, and features a fine solo and rock-solid rhythm section that's underscored by its bright, punchy production. Again, with strong ensemble playing the elements of a band are interwoven to become something new, and such is the case with "Faith, Love, Hope and Pride," a number that's wistful yet no less powerful for it. Featuring fine dual-guitar interplay and soloing, Maranto says of it "...we still play [it] out - it still goes over well, and I love it because I remember sitting in my parents' kitchen, home for the summer, and writing that."
Next, "Not Giving Up" (recorded at Shreveport's Sandbox Studios) adorns its declarations with some adamant licks, while "Strangest Ways" ponders our past, our choices, and the effects those choices have on where we must now go. It's about a time, or a person or feeling that we keep deep in our hearts, whether the time was good or bad or, as is usually the case, some of both.
Hopping guitars and organ work from Gauthier set up rocker "Time for a Change," and the song indeed declares "I know it's not what you wanna hear..." but the singer's striking out for something new, something yet discovered...the band unspools restlessness and cabin fever and is again brought home by a wonderful rhythmic underpinning. I hate to saddle "No Going Home" with a bunch of shorthand descriptors such as "Byrds/Burritos Country rock" or "alt.country," or whatever, but the track is as good as any of that stuff. "Shoot out the lights - cover your tracks - take a long last look - watch your back - 'cause there is no goin' home...again" it says, augmented by a little plaintive harp.
A nice, choppy lick (with some great keys) opens an ode to Maranto's younger self, and every young music-maker, called "Rock 'n Roll." It's for anyone who ever picked up an instrument and those who hope the energy lingers on. He casts another eye back toward youth and its vivid impressions with "Make Me Think of You," (a song augmented by a fine Bakersfield lick) which finds him "...older and wiser, but not by much." Bittersweet "Far Away From My Mind" seeks a place in a frenzied world that's "so complicated - way beyond repair" in which to save or restore some kind of conviction and personal strength, a "better time, a better place - where things might just be right for me."
The theme of seeking continues with "Melanie Makes a Choice," a song about taking a chance at a better life (no easy thing, often), even as "A Sunny Day" (written during a tough hospital duty rotation) gets at the simple truth that sometimes, a current of happiness and optimism is enough. Album closer "So Misunderstood" features yet more fine organ and bottom end, for a satisfying conclusion.
Altogether the record is a nimble, engaging experience, and recommended to anyone who enjoys a straightforward set of rootsy guitar rock.
For the last year or so, Maranto's been playing in a loose aggregation called Will Maranto and The Usual Suspects, a group that features members of both Gypsy Mountain and Retroverb, and includes bassist Kenny Brown and old friend Travis Pierrelee (who played on That Great Connection) as the core.
A six-piece "conglomeration" played this year's Red River Revel arts festival and had a great time of it. Maranto found it "fantastic," noting "I'm blessed with these talented co-conspirators" who can come together from fair distances, and with minimal practice deliver a solid show. Such practices can make it tough to capture that showtime spark, and if he had his druthers Maranto would always appreciate more prep time, but with the Revel "everyone was hitting on all cylinders...the setup assistance, the sound guys were prepped...I loved it!"
He's thankful for crowd response and the boost it gives to the performers. "I'm 37, and I fall between two different generations," he says of his straddling a tradition of working musicians and today's tech-heavy industry. "I love that young musicians are still under a model of 'we should be a band, we should play original music' - to me, that's fantastic." He regrets, in contrast, the lack of seasoned musicians who are playing original music for audiences. "For me, I've always felt like I have to be good at what I do, yet you almost have to invent your market. It's not clearly laid out in front of you. [Original songs are] your art," he says, "and therefore harder to make a living."
This summer there should be a fair number of Maranto's collaborators in town, with the result of more shows, and even more recording. "It's frustrating if you don't have songs, but it's frustrating if you do have songs, and you're just waiting around to do something with them," he notes, and says of solo performances "It's okay, but if I'm going to take that much time to make a record, I want it to be a full-band record, fully produced...the listener is better served by hearing the song with a full arrangement, fully realized."
Onward, then, to coming days, pleased crowds and that next elusive, wonderful song.
Booking info, updates and blog may all be found at http://www.willmaranto.com/
- Dave Bottoms
Place such a musician in a group setting and you somehow amplify the song and its impact, and even the words are embellished with a special new strength.
It wasn't so lomg ago that he was re-calibrating his expectations and understanding of the music business - with its ups and downs, pitfalls and rewards - and found himself taking stock and asking "What do I want?" before realizing "If I accomplish nothing else, I want to be in a good working band." This is the story of the realization of that simple goal, and more, and it begins in a smaller town up the road from Shreveport.
"I grew up in Blanchard," Maranto remembers, "and I went to St. John's and St. Joseph, 30 minutes from where I lived. My dad took us to school every day, and he'd always have KEEL on. This was the early '80s, there was lots of '60s music, all jumbled up with whatever, and that's where I got an appetite for a lot of that. Even at a young age, second or third grade, it exposed me to a lot of stuff and I kind of started to develop an ability to say 'now what does this sound like...'"
Young Will soon obtained his very first record (Billy Joel's An Innocent Man on cassette, a recording that remains a favorite), and from there his learning curve steepened upward through Tom Petty to George Harrison. Harrison's LP Cloud Nine caught Maranto's ear, and the discovery of the artist introduced both the Beatles and, along with Petty, the Traveling Wilburys, which begat knowledge of Dylan. "That was the kind of stuff that made me want to be in a band [and] playing that kind of music," he says. "Shortly after that, my next-door neighbor Bryan Copeland got an electric guitar. Not long after that I got one too, and really started learning to play."
His first band - toward the end of high school - dovetailed with some exposure with multi-track recording, about how the music he liked was actually produced: how all the elements fit together to create "...songs, and thus, songwriting." Early struggles produced efforts such as "Your Love is a Miracle," but it was fairly tough going. "I thought songwriting was really hard," Maranto remembers, "and how do you got from listening to the music you like to creating it? The natural inclination is to try to beat your head against the wall and emulate it." The plan in college was to write one song per month, and this led to a larger pool of songs - and confidence. Fast-forward a few more years, past that med-school decision, to a new phase in life as a resident MD at Shreveport's LSU-HSC hospital. Maranto worked with a friend from med school with which he'd made a record called That Great Connection in 1998, a blues aficionado named Joe Tynes. Through Tynes, Maranto met Wes McKinney, an MICU nurse who turned out to be "the key relationship that led to a lot of places. "We talked...we hit it off," he says of McKinney. "We started hosting this open-mic night at Semolina's of all places - we just had a great time."
Maranto and McKinney formed the germ of the band Retroverb, an act that saw a lot of talent pass through its ranks. Will's baritone and Wes's tenor seemed a natural fit, and "We worked well together, we sung well together," he notes. A year later Gypsy Mountain - the "first, best working band I was in" was formed. Tynes came in on bass, and a med student named Bryan Shelby provided drums, while Mike Gauthier contributed keys.
That lineup made a record called Roadhouse Quintessential in 2005, working with Precision Digital studios in nearby Haughton. "That was fun," says Maranto, "it was the first time I'd ever been in the studio and wasn't doing everything."
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| Maranto and Gypsy Mountain |
As we're discussing a band that featured three doctors, a look at the very specific issues of maintaining a balanced life with two very different aspects is perhaps needed. "I'm blessed that I have a very lucrative job - [yet] it makes it hard to jump into that other thing...it's freeing, in that I don't feel I have to play a show. I can compartmentalize the two," he says, adding, "I have to." The elements of the two lives don't really complement each other, as with one particular downside: being an MD who can dispense meds, and being in the entertainment arena. "It comes up all the time, so I try to keep those things as far apart as possible." About his craft, however, Maranto speaks effusively. "The most important thing I do as an artist is at the songwriting level, by far. If that's there, everything else falls into line," he says. "When I look at songwriting, there are two skills to it. One is the inspiration - that bolt from heaven that gives you the goods - the second part is learning to be a good editor and arranger, just for the song. One is very right-brain, one very left-brain...I think I learned the left-brain stuff first."
Only too aware of the fleeting nature of inspiration, he continues: "[You're] hopefully seizing it and catching it when it's there. The problem is, a lot of times it goes out of focus...usually when a song comes to me I have a good 5-10 minutes when I can get it, get the fundamental parts of it, and if I get it, it's fine - maybe come back and finish a verse later, but you'd better get the idea in..." Getting back to Gyspy Mountain, by 2006 they were on hiatus, so Maranto reassembled Retroverb, and a lineup of Maranto, Charlie Dempsey, Mike Gauthier, Jeremy Hale and Kenny Brown recorded Lost Letters in 2007-8, again at Premiere Digital (sadly now defunct after its owner's move to Dallas).
 |
| ...and with Retroverb |
Gem "Hope You Understand" kicks things off, and features a fine solo and rock-solid rhythm section that's underscored by its bright, punchy production. Again, with strong ensemble playing the elements of a band are interwoven to become something new, and such is the case with "Faith, Love, Hope and Pride," a number that's wistful yet no less powerful for it. Featuring fine dual-guitar interplay and soloing, Maranto says of it "...we still play [it] out - it still goes over well, and I love it because I remember sitting in my parents' kitchen, home for the summer, and writing that."
Next, "Not Giving Up" (recorded at Shreveport's Sandbox Studios) adorns its declarations with some adamant licks, while "Strangest Ways" ponders our past, our choices, and the effects those choices have on where we must now go. It's about a time, or a person or feeling that we keep deep in our hearts, whether the time was good or bad or, as is usually the case, some of both.
Hopping guitars and organ work from Gauthier set up rocker "Time for a Change," and the song indeed declares "I know it's not what you wanna hear..." but the singer's striking out for something new, something yet discovered...the band unspools restlessness and cabin fever and is again brought home by a wonderful rhythmic underpinning. I hate to saddle "No Going Home" with a bunch of shorthand descriptors such as "Byrds/Burritos Country rock" or "alt.country," or whatever, but the track is as good as any of that stuff. "Shoot out the lights - cover your tracks - take a long last look - watch your back - 'cause there is no goin' home...again" it says, augmented by a little plaintive harp.
A nice, choppy lick (with some great keys) opens an ode to Maranto's younger self, and every young music-maker, called "Rock 'n Roll." It's for anyone who ever picked up an instrument and those who hope the energy lingers on. He casts another eye back toward youth and its vivid impressions with "Make Me Think of You," (a song augmented by a fine Bakersfield lick) which finds him "...older and wiser, but not by much." Bittersweet "Far Away From My Mind" seeks a place in a frenzied world that's "so complicated - way beyond repair" in which to save or restore some kind of conviction and personal strength, a "better time, a better place - where things might just be right for me."
The theme of seeking continues with "Melanie Makes a Choice," a song about taking a chance at a better life (no easy thing, often), even as "A Sunny Day" (written during a tough hospital duty rotation) gets at the simple truth that sometimes, a current of happiness and optimism is enough. Album closer "So Misunderstood" features yet more fine organ and bottom end, for a satisfying conclusion.
Altogether the record is a nimble, engaging experience, and recommended to anyone who enjoys a straightforward set of rootsy guitar rock.
For the last year or so, Maranto's been playing in a loose aggregation called Will Maranto and The Usual Suspects, a group that features members of both Gypsy Mountain and Retroverb, and includes bassist Kenny Brown and old friend Travis Pierrelee (who played on That Great Connection) as the core.
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| The 2011 Revel set |
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| Jamming at Shreveport's Naked Bean |
This summer there should be a fair number of Maranto's collaborators in town, with the result of more shows, and even more recording. "It's frustrating if you don't have songs, but it's frustrating if you do have songs, and you're just waiting around to do something with them," he notes, and says of solo performances "It's okay, but if I'm going to take that much time to make a record, I want it to be a full-band record, fully produced...the listener is better served by hearing the song with a full arrangement, fully realized."
Onward, then, to coming days, pleased crowds and that next elusive, wonderful song.
Booking info, updates and blog may all be found at http://www.willmaranto.com/
- Dave Bottoms
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