by: Dan Ouellette, pages 12-13; 66-67

Ask the members of 10,000 Maniacs how and why they ever came up with their name and all you'll hear are groans. It's the question that's been asked 10,000 times and, depending on who you talk to in the group, one that will get you slightly different answers. To set the record straight: yes, the name was derived from the cult horror film, "2,000 Maniacs"; yes, it has been both a boon and a bane for the group; no, the group does not crank out a maniacal punk-thrash-rock that the name suggests; and no, the band members have no intention of changing their appellation. From there the facts get a little fuzzy.

Singer and songwriter Natalie Merchant remembers the 1981 decision as follows: "We were playing gigs in the area around our hometown at the time and changing names every week. We used to go to the library and pick ancient names for the band. We had a Halloween gig, and John Lombardo [a founding member since departed] picked the name from a book that had titles of late-night horror films."

Keyboardist and songwriter Dennis Drew recalls the naming process as being more calculated. "We wanted to do something funny and get some attention. It's important that a rock band have a memorable name as a hook for people to remember you. Early in our career, I'd call clubs and beg for gigs. The bookers would almost always say no, but when I'd call back they'd always remember our name. We ended up getting gigs just from familiarity with our name. It doesn't describe us as a group, but people rarely forget it."

Merchant, however, has never been crazy about the name, and admits that it has posed problems. "Yeah, people have avoided seeing us or buying our records because they were scared away by the name, but it's too late to change. Besides, names of bands are insignificant anyway." Drew agrees. "If people want to be so lazy as to judge us by our name, fine; they don't have to listen to our music."

Obviously, that hasn't been the case. The Maniacs fourth album, In My Tribe, recently turned platinum (signifying sales of one million), almost two years after its release. The group's new LP, Blind Man's Zoo, promises to be a mammoth-seller, especially now that the public has gotten past the name game and recognized that 10,000 Maniacs play deceptively simple pop and folk melodies that are lyrically haunting, absorbing and challenging.

Just how big have 10,000 Maniacs become? Responds Drew, "Sure, we've got the platinum record and we've sold out concerts in the U.S. and Europe over the last couple of years. But the first real indication I got of how popular we've become came when I saw one of our CD's prominently displayed in a magazine ad for a CD player. What I really got a kick out of was when someone told me that we had become a topic of converstaion in a TV sitcom. Apparently there was some joke involving a kid in the series who waited three hours in line to get tickets to a 10,000 Maniacs show."

10,000 Maniacs have indeed come a long way from their early days of playing songs by the Gang of Four, Joy Division and Bob Marley in Jamestown-Buffalo clubs in upstate New York. The band came together at a college radio station where both Drew and bassist Steven Gustafson were deejays. "One day Natalie just wandered into the station with some records and asked if she could play them," recalls Drew. "Rob [guitarist Rob Buck] used to call from a factory where he was working and request songs by Elvis Costello and the Specials." The four started hanging out together with rhythm guitarist John Lombardo and drummer Jerome Augustyniak. It wasn't long before the six friends began experimenting as a band. "We'd jam all night playing loud, awful music," remembers Drew. "But we had one helluva time. It was like being in college for us."

Group members began to write their own material, and the band released two discs, Human Conflict No. Five (a five song EP) and Secrets of the I-Ching, on it's own label called Christian Burial. "It was scary being 23 or 24 without a real job," says Drew, "and trying to realize the dream of being an established group with a major record label. We borrowed money from our parents and ran up expensive phone bills and production costs." Despite good press in England, major record companies in the States weren't interested in the Maniacs. Then Howard Thompson from CBS Records caught the group live in New York City in 1984. "It was a simple case of us being in the right place at the right time," recalls Drew. "He was impressed and wanted to sign us to CBS, but he ended up moving to Elektra. Eventually he signed us to that label in early 1985."

The first Elektra LP, The Wishing Chair, was produced by Joe Boyd, well known by folk-rock devotees as the man behind the boards for the Fairport Convention, Nick Drake and the Incredible String Band. The LP was recorded in 1985 in London, which proved to be somewhat of a distraction for Merchant. "I was so in love with the city that I got immersed in it and actually found myself ignoring the, making of our own record," she says. "I showed up at the studio, sang, then disappeared."

Despite her wanderlust, Drew notes, Merchant matured as a songwriter. "Joe was a mellow producer, a real gentleman. He wasn't into producing us to make hit records. He let us make mistakes, but also worked with us to make our songs more accessible. This approach had an effect on Natalie. She began to pare down her lyrics."

Though critically acclaimed, the LP made little impact on record buyers. After a rigorous tour schedule in the US and Europe, guitarist and songwriter Lombardo packed it in. Rather than sinking the band, the loss forced the other members to hone their songwriting and managerial skills. They headed back into the studio in 1987, this time with producer Peter Asher, best known for his production work for James Taylor and Linda Ronstadt, and as one half of the sixties pop duo, Peter and Gordon. It was an unusual combination, but one that proved to be successful, as In My Tribe attests.

Drew speaks highly of Asher. "He was the best person for us to come into contact with at that point in our career. He demanded a lot of us, which made us a better band. And he was very sensitive. He's a manager of artists, so he understands that angle. He was a singer and songwriter, so he understands that. Plus, he understands what it takes to produce hit records."

Merchant points out that the band was careful to not lose control of its music with Asher. "We didn't want a producer to take over, so we stayed in the ring the whole time. I stayed in the studio, keeping my corner vigil from the first preproduction practice to the mixing, a process that took over four months." Instead of forcing his ideas on the band, Asher took on the role of mediator between band members. Merchant commends Asher for his professionalism and credits him with helping the band discover its style. "All our other records were just a preparation for In My Tribe. Before, we were collecting all sorts of influences and not fully processing them. Peter helped us develop our own style of writing rhythmically oriented, concise and simple melodies."

If there's another topic band members cringe at, it's the query as to why they covered Cat Stevens' early seventies hit, Peace Train, and made it the showcase single of In My Tribe. "I am sick of that question," exclaims Merchant. "Why? Because we liked it. Very much. We had been doing it live and people liked it. We thought it was pretty harmless. We've had so many ideological clashes over that song, especially in England, where Cat Stevens is definitely not a patron saint."

Drew admits he's a bit embarrassed by the inclusion of the song on the album, though he does say he feels the song retains a great message. "Putting Peace Train out as our first single was calculated. We felt we needed an open door to radio. So we decided to play the game for three minutes and ten seconds."

Needless to say, Peace Train was not a hit. The group hit the road to support In My Tribe, winning over audiences in Milan, Paris and England, but not in the States. However, the Maniacs received a lot of national exposure in the fall of 1987. They played the Drew-Merchant tune, Don't Talk, on Late Night with David Letterman, toured with R.E.M. and appeared on the Tonight Show. By the time they played Like the Weather and What's the Matter Here? on Saturday Night Live in February, 1988, they had established a strong U.S. following.

In addition, Merchant was receiving due recognition as one of the most thoughtful and articulate songwriters in pop music (Drew goes as far as calling her "one of the great poets ofthe 20th century"). While she captures a mood perfectly in such songs as Don't Talk (about a relationship wracked by alcoholism) and Like the Weather (a view into a grey day of domestic ennui), Merchant also sketches stories about people facing such dilemmas as adult illiteracy and increasing militarism. Her most dramatic song on In My Tribe is What's the Matter Here?, a moving evocation of child abuse.

"I keep my eyes open, I am an observer," she explains ofher writing. "I use newspaper articles, overheard conversations in the street, films, and people I meet as the sources for my themes. I listened to a lot of ballads and song stories when I was growing up. The ones I liked the most were those that meant something, that had buried messages in them."

On In My Tribe and the new album, Blind Man's Zoo, Merchant's songs resemble short stories, both in content and form. Written on the lyric sheets in paragraph form, the songs are vignettes that don't rely on an overabundance of sing-songy end-line rhymes. "I don't consider myself a poet at all," she explains. "I write everything in complete sentences and in a prose style. I use a lot ofdialogue and action which I don't equate with poetry. I play with rhymes occasionally in my songs, but I tend to think of those numbers as being the most frivolous ones. I'm almost embarrassed about my songs that have choruses with really blatant and silly rhymes."

A reviewer for one prominent national magazine dismissed In My Tribe as insignificant and accused Merchant of being, as she sarcastically puts it, "puffed-up, finger-wagging and self-righteous." "But that's exactly the kind of writing I've always avoided," she bristles. "I write from a human point of view, rather than spout rhetoric. I've always avoided a didactic attitude. That's why I use a lot of dialogue and allegories in my songs instead of a preaching style."

Drew mentions that Merchant could come under fire for Blind Man's Zoo, also produced by Asher, as she again explores social and political issues. He adds, though, that the songs are far from pedantic. "Our songs ask more questions than they give answers. Most of our songs are about being confused and not knowing what to do and how to act to change relationships and global situations. But there is a song on the LP with a dramatic explanation point." Drew is referring to Poison in the Well, a prophetic tune concerning the contamination of the world's fresh water supply.

Other provocative story-songs from the album include Eat for Two, the lament of a pregnant young girl; The Lion's Share, a parable about one-sided wealth and the fate of the poor under dictators; Hateful Hate, a passionate tune that explores the implications of the colonial conquest of Africa; The Big Parade, a song about a young man visiting the Vietnam War Memorial; and Please Forgive Us, in which the singer seeks forgiveness for being an unwitting part the silent majority that supported Oliver North and the United States' "mercenary heydays."

The album's first single, Trouble Me, is an atypical love song, a cry for intimacy. "This songs picks up where What's the Matter Here? left off," offers Drew. "That song asked so many questions about how to confront the ugly and the horrific, Trouble Me is a way of suggesting that the only way to solve anything is to share each other's troubles, to love each other. It's a love song on many levels, a plea for friendship, family and community love in addition to romantic love. It's significant that Natalie made the video with her grandmother in it instead of her boyfriend."

Musically the new material continues in the same folk-rock-pop vein as the last album. "Our music is really innocent," says Drew. "It's got a smooth groove and it's not complicated because we want to recreate the studio sound on stage." Some critics have noted that 10,000 Maniacs' music takes a while to sink in, that it's not the kind of music to leap out and overwhelm on first listen. Maybe that's why it took In My Tribe a year to break into Billboard's Top 40 album chart, and another year to reach platinum. Then again, maybe it was the bizarre name that delayed the group's success.

But Drew maintains a who-cares attitude and says that the size ofthe audience isn't what keeps the band motivated. "We're not going to gear our material to audience expectations. We appeal to people who appreciate good lyrics, who like to think about a variety of subjects, and who are not embarrassed to talk about difficult questions and issues. We're going to continue to make music about what we feel is important."