Baltimore Sun - December 4, 1987

10,000 Maniacs hits the road to seek wider appeal

by: J.D. Considine


"Last night I took a walk in Jamestown", says singer Natalie Merchant, the lead singer of 10,000 Maniacs, over the phone from her home town in upstate New York. "I walked to the highest point in Jamestown, a reservoir, and it's in the lawn of a school. And there were two deer - this is in the middle of Jamestown - two deer standing in the school yard. That was one of the most magical moments I've had in months. Wildlife, right in the middle of Jamestown!"

"Those kind of moments are really important, and I don't get to have them much anymore," she adds. "Because we don't come back here very often."

It isn't that the band has grown tired of life in Jamestown, mind you. As Merchant puts it, "It's good that my home is in a quiet environment; I just can't keep up with the pace of a city and I think a lot of people in this band feel exactly the same way."

No, what has kept the Maniacs away from home has been work, plain and simple. Like many bands attempting the leap from rock underground to pop mainstream, 10,000 Maniacs has spent much of the last several years on the road, playing clubs and small halls and slowly building an audience. Things picked up two years ago, when the group signed with Elektra Records and released The Wishing Chair, an album that won over most of America's rock critics.

With In My Tribe, though, the Maniacs have gone after a much bigger audience. Produced by Peter Asher (Linda Ronstadt's guiding light), it astutely focuses the group's folk-oriented approach, bringing its melodic strengths to the fore while retaining the uniqueness of the Maniacs' sound. Still, despite the allure of songs like Don't Talk or The Painted Desert, many radio programmers remain wary of the group - in part because of its maniacal name. "In a way, it's our curse," shrugs Merchant, "but once people know our music, that obstacle doesn't exist anymore."

One of the best ways to wear away at that prejudice is to play live, so the band has been back out on the road, touring both on its own and with R.E.M. Moreover, this album brought a step-up for the band: in mid-November, Merchant and guitarist Robert buck made their network debut on "Late Night with David Letterman", while the entire band was on the "Tonight Show" a week later. (The group will play Shriver Hall at the Johns Hopkins University Monday).

All that traveling generates a certain amount of physical strain, says Merchant, "but that's about it. If I didn't get so tired, I could probably tour eight months a year. It really wouldn't bother me, because I like the constant changing environment. It fills my head with all sorts of images that, when I come home, I can spill out onto paper."

Merchant's habits of observation go well beyond the standard gawking-at-landmarks of which most tourists are guilty. Instead, she says, she often prefers to ponder the sort of things most people take for granted, like leaves. "I'm fascinated by leaves, and water droplets on leaves. I can sit and stare at something like that; I can stare at a tree for an hour, and just try to take it in.

"A lot of my friends who live in cities tell me I'm too easily amused," she adds, laughing.

Her powers of observation, though, are central to her songwriting, for she is able to pull stories out of even the most commonplace occurrences. "Life has poetic qualities to it," she insists. "A day can be completely mundane, unless you observe it from a perspective that is a little bit more creative."

Taking a bath with someone playing music next door is a pretty common experience. Nonetheless, that was all the inspiration it took for Merchant to write Verdi Cries, the song that closes In My Tribe.

"It was just a journal entry," she says. "But I loved paralleling the opera about the Ethiopian slave girl being entombed alive with her lover, and this old man in the hotel room listening to it alone while I was taking my bath. That synchronicity, I guess it is, really amazes me - that, at every instant, there are so many people doing diametrically opposed things, and at the same time, they interlock."