New York City, NY. 1997 – 2004 or so. Reanimated 2017.
First, play this:
That’s my old friend Nick Hill, introducing this band, Rosine, on WFMU on October 28, 2000, broadcasting from the Museum of Television and Radio in New York City. The other radio voice is another old friend, Laura Cantrell. I wanted to start this post with that snippet, because Nick has been ill and on my mind a lot lately as he recovers; stumbling across this bit of his fine booming radio voice from so long ago sent me into a rabbit hole of nostalgia and emotion, just the sort of thing I hope this blog does best. I’ve been away from it (the blog) for a couple of years, but I’m back. Thank you for reading.
Nancy Lynn Howell – Vocals, guitar
Lianne Smith – Vocals
Tom Laverack – Vocals
Jonathan Feinberg – Drums
Mark Donato – Drums, Vocals
Reuben Radding – Mandolin, Mandola
Philippa Thompson – Fiddle, Accordion
Josh Neretin – Percussion
Kurt Hoffman – Clarinet
Brian Dewan – Organ
Bob Beimer – Concertina
Al Houghton – Guitar
Diane Stockwell – Fiddle
John Frisch – Oboe
David Goldfarb – Trombone
Chris Washburne – Trombone, Tuba
Mark Lerner – Bass, Vocals, Guitars, Melodica, Banjo, Dobro, Percussion, Dubs
That was on the record, which you can listen to here as you read on….
At live shows we were a good bit smaller, and Rob Meador joined us on guitar and mandolin.
Crawling from the Wreckage
Rosine was my next personal project after Flat Old World disbanded in 1996. Careful readers of this blog will recall that I was in the grips of a pretty hefty dose of depression, which led to that band’s demise. So, although the date above says Rosine began in 1997, not too much happened for a while. I was beginning to write instrumentals with actual notes on paper—a new skill for me—and I got together with former Flat Old World violinist Diane Stockwell and my friend David McLary, both of whom were very comfortable with written music, to try some stuff. I remember us slaughtering the theme from The Third Man, and me struggling to play some of David’s material. I was also really interested in combining Jamaican rhythms and old-time and bluegrass songs, and trying to do dub effects live, so at one point my friends John Neilson, a guitarist, and Lianne Smith, a singer, got together with me and my wife, Nancy Howell, and someone on drums, probably Mark Donato, a few times. We did “Willow Tree,” by Hortense Ellis. We may have done “Bury Me Beneath the Willow” (I have home demos of me doing that around then). I had a notion at one point to do an EP with those two songs and my own song “Under the Willow,” which dated from the last days of Flat Old World. It was a waltz, but I was going to force it into 4/4 and do it reggae-style. That idea pretty much says it all about the early days of Rosine: forcing ideas together (bluegrass + dub!) and hanging it all on a thin conceptual thread (they all have WILLOW in the title!). Luckily, I was still pretty nonfunctional (depression) and couldn’t get a band seriously underway for a while. But by 1999 I got myself well and decided to do… something.
A New Broom Sweeps Clean, But an Old Broom Knows Every Corner
Having a band still seemed daunting. I was kind of fragile and my kids were very young. My last band had played out a lot and recorded as a secondary thing. This time out, I wanted to make a record first, with whomever I thought would be right for each song, and then—maybe—do a few shows. In 1999, I started rounding up people to record the Rosine album (I had the band name quite early on. Rosine is Bill Monroe’s hometown in Kentucky, and I liked the sound of it).
New York City, 1985-1987
Bill Fink – guitar, vocals
Mark Lerner – bass, backing vocals
Mike Marubio – drums (Libertyville)
Andy Akers – drums (Del Pez)
Kenny ??? – drums (South of Heaven)
As 1985 started, I went back to college, this time at NYU, studying film production. In April, I moved from the Upper West Side down to 14th Street and 5th Avenue, sharing a studio apartment (!) with my high school friend Mike Causey, who was now working as an assistant at a publishing house. We were so starved for privacy that we put a futon on the floor of our one closet, along with a glow-in-the-dark poster of the moon on the ceiling; whenever we needed to, either of us could escape to “the Moon Room” for some alone time.
My sporadic yet strangely detailed journal tells me that on Tuesday, May 28, 1985 (the last day of the NYU spring semester), I turned in a paper on The Grey Fox, saw a Judy Holliday double feature (Born Yesterday and It Should Happen to You) at the Thalia, and then “met with Mike Marubio and Bill Fink to talk about forming a band.” Mike and Bill were both at Columbia University. Mike had been the drummer in my previous NYC band, Hats Without Work, and had also played with Bill in another band, Double Felix (also called Felix). I knew Bill slightly from seeing him play with Felix. The idea was to do Bill’s songs, with a few covers.
Columbia University, NYC, January to May, 1984
Tom Adelman – acoustic guitar, vocals
Mark Lerner – bass, vocals, some keyboards
Mike Marubio – drums
Dave Robinowitz – keyboards at one gig
Folks, I’m diving deep for this entry. Deep into the world of shame. Join me, won’t you? Let’s begin with a band introduction that sort of says it all:
By the middle of my second year at Columbia University, it became clear to me I wasn’t going to stay there. As I’ve already written, I had big plans with my pal Dan Eilenberg to become the next Difford and Tilbrook (or Taupin and John). My dear friend Tom Adelman was also planning on leaving Columbia. His future plans included a career in the lucrative world of poetry and an early marriage (because those always work out, right?)
So with one semester left, we decided to play some music together. We thought we could take Tom’s LA-punk/glam/poetry mess and combine it with my love for pop music and have something listenable. Tom had no electric guitar at the time, but we figured, hey: Violent Femmes! Turns out that’s hard to do well, and my approach (overplaying the bass, with utterly horrendous tone) didn’t help matters. In our defense, we didn’t have serious or high hopes for the band. It was a way to kill a semester before we both left for what we hoped would be greener pastures.