Misfit moniker belies band's wide appeal

by: Peter Blackstock

Call it the "Edie Brickell and" syndrome.

Shortly before the release of 10,000 Maniacs' 1987 album In My Tribe, the band's record company, Elektra, seemed anxious to soften the hard-core image of the group's misleading name and turn the spotlight more toward its radiant singer, Natalie Merchant. The label suggested billing the band as "Natalie Merchant and 10,000 Maniacs" - a ploy similar to that used by Geffen Records last year with the New Bohemians against Brickell and her bandmates' wishes.

"They went through a phase, a panic stage before the release of In My Tribe, when they wanted to call us that," Maniacs bassist Steve Gustafson said in a telephone interview. "And we told them to get lost. Well, we didn't actually say that, but . . . we threw a few four-letter words at 'em."

The label backed off. And in the months that followed, 10,000 Maniacs proved its socially conscious pop music could reach the mainstream despite the band's misfit moniker. After a slow start, In My Tribe stayed on the Billboard charts for more than a year and reached platinum status (a million copies sold) a couple of weeks ago. Meanwhile, the group's latest LP, Blind Man's Zoo, went gold shortly after its release in May and remains in the Top 20 four months later.

The band members' refusal to alter the name was typical of their determination to succeed on their own terms. Another example occurred recently when they asked Elektra remove their version of Cat Stevens' Peace Train from future pressings of In My Tribe after Stevens endorsed Ayatollah Khomeini's call for the killing of Satanic Verses author Salman Rushdie. Gustafson said the label recently agreed to do so after initially questioning the move.

The band's appearance at Liberty Lunch Saturday is still another sign of its desire to do things its way. Manager Peter Leak said the group turned down an offer to play at Sunday's Austin Freedom Festival show in Zilker Park because it preferred a more intimate setting than a large outdoor show, even though the Liberty Lunch gig means a smaller payday and a much smaller audience.

That's an unusual situation for the Maniacs these days. The group has spent much of the last two years adjusting to the fact that its audience has grown considerably since the mid-'80s, when the band was a favorite among college and alternative crowds but an unknown to almost everyone else.

Perhaps the most significant aspect of the band's expanded popularity, though, is the extent to which the underground has remained loyal despite the more mainstream sound of the group's recent material. Trouble Me, the first single off Blind Man's Zoo, reached No. 7 on the Billboard adult contemporary charts and No. 3 on the magazine's modern rock charts, a feat almost as unlikely as placing the same song on both the country and rap charts.

"It's something that's very surprising, but it's very gratifying too, just to see that we're reaching such a wide audience," Gustafson said. "We're crossing over, only it's not from the pop market to the black market or the country market. We're crossing over the age barrier, or the generation gap."

"We're certainly my mother's favorite band," he added with a laugh.

The group's pleasant melodies, anchored by Merchant's smooth and expressive vocals, are part of a new pop sound (along with acts such as Tracy Chapman and the Indigo Girls) that indeed appeals to parents and children alike.

But the music is only half the story. Beyond the mainstream lure of the hooks is a serious lyrical approach that's far removed from the banal norm of the pop charts.

Merchant always has been a socially and politically concerned songwriter, and the group's latest album is her most ambitious effort yet. Topics on Blind Man's Zoo range from unwanted pregnancy (Eat For Two) to environmental irresponsibility (Poison in the Well) to U.S. involvement in Central America (Please Forgive Us).

Those are weighty topics for a band whose members don't necessarily share the same visions of the way the world should be. In a recent cover story in Musician magazine, Gustafson referred to keyboardist Dennis Drew as "a pretty hard-core right-winger."

"You can't disagree with her on things like child abuse, or illiteracy," Gustafson says, referring to topics Merchant had addressed on In My Tribe. "She gets into a few political things too... I suppose the band could get into some real arguments, if we wanted to, politically, with each other. Sometimes we do. But we try not to upset Natalie too much," he chuckled.