Road warriors

2nd Avenue is still crazy after 20 years

by Michael Caito

2nd Avenue

Last week 2nd Avenue celebrated their twentieth anniversary as a bar band. More importantly, this week they're still at it.

Singer/guitarist Glenn Kuzirian, co-founder/bassist Chuck Doris, and drummer Steve Tancredi have worked small rooms since the mid-'70s. So we chatted with Kuzirian about MTV, karaoke, the health of corner pubs, the lost art of relaxation, and their new CD. Tancredi has a four-track at home, and recently produced their first disc. "I was surprised, but pleasantly so, that Steve took all the initiative," Kuzirian said last week."It was basically his doing." The disc is a stew of roots-rock with an overt Fab Four nod, with cameos by the producer's father, Julio.

Q: Congratulations on 20 years. Are you nuts?

A: Actually, you have to absolutely be certifiably crazy.

Q: Unfair question:who has been your favorite band of all time?

A: Over eras, more of a series . . . an era when I would've said Jon Pousette-Dart Band and another, Blood, Sweat and Tears. Right now I look at all the CDs I've got and say, "Nah, I wanna play Shawn Colvin again." I also like Jonatha Brooke.

Q: Formerly of the Story.

A: They're both good songwriters who are more interested in the craft of the song.

Q: Does the new CD have some 2nd Avenue chestnuts?

A: Not that old. It's not one of those things where a band's worked together for a long time to put out that incredibly good first album. We have enough to do another easily. If all of us were in the studio at the same time next time it would be a different feel. Most of these are from the last two years.

Q: Why do so few bands last less than five or six years? Talking macro- instead of micro- . . . .

A: One of our society's real heavy imprints is you can't keep doing this for a long time. The guys are surrounded by a bunch of people telling them they can't do this for a living. Girlfriends, wives, mothers, fathers. It lacks a certain legitimacy. So at some point [many] say, "Yeah, it's great to play in a band, but I really have to get serious about my life." It's a real pressure. Another [reason] is many musicians don't approach it like a business. It is a craft, it is art, but it's also a business of sorts. Like the thousands of artists who come out of RISD. Some of 'em make money doing their artwork, but a lot don't.

You have to have a certain melding of enjoying what you're doing but also keeping in mind the perspective of having to do some things because it's a business. You don't get to do everything you like. Many do think, when they're playing, that they'll get discovered, that they're gonna get nationally known and it'll be a gravy train. That if it doesn't happen in two or three years then they're wasting their time. An analogy I use when asked that question in bars is everybody knows who F. Lee Bailey is and a handful of famous lawyers, but there are 200,000 lawyers in the United States making money every single day that you don't know. Initially Chuck's and my approach was that we don't need to be famous. If we can actually do something we enjoy and put a roof overhead, food in our mouths, and drive a car, then if I don't become a national star I don't care. I've had 20 years playing guitar, something I love doing.

That's another reason there hasn't been more recording -- playing live is far more interesting. We've lasted because we're musicians but we're also entertainers, and there's a huge give-and-take between us and our audience. That's contributed to our longevity -- people feel they know us. We always joke from the stage if someone makes a mistake in a song. It's not brain surgery. No one died. You blew a verse, big deal. People sense when you're nervous onstage, and all that does is make the crowd nervous, so there's a bad cycle set up.

Q: You pre-date MTV, and it's now less of, what, a cultural icon, maybe?

A: I think that's true.

Q: Big picture, what did it end up doing?

A: I see it in any transgenerational event, like a wedding, which we don't do very often but have done. Those enjoying our music most who shouldn't be are 60 to 80. They're tickled to death to hear live music. People 40 to 60 like you if they recognize lots of the music. They're still oriented toward the band, and they will dance. Below 30, there's little to no band orientation, there's no dancing, and they cannot understand why you cannot do certain things. They grew up in a time watching musicians play a song while flying through the air on a trampoline. No one on MTV actually played until they started the acoustic thing. No one played their instruments. There's a generation that doesn't understand that it's difficult to play a song. There's no idea of the work of putting a song together.

Then there's karaoke. People come up and say, "I wanna sing with you," and I have no idea who these people are, so I ask what song do they know all the words to, and they say, "Whaddya mean, you don't have a book?" Speaking about a key or a tempo is foreign language to them. I'm amazed that '70s clothing style come back, so maybe in another 20 years people will cycle back into live music. There has been a suffering for those reasons.

Q: How are the corner neighborhood bars and pubs keeping pace?

A: In Rhode Island they're hanging tough, but we're pretty provincial. We played Burrillville every week for four years, and I spoke with people who said they'd never go to Providence, would never think about attending a show at Lupo's or the Strand.

Q: Fear of crime? Massive distance?

A: I grew up here, but that mentality exists in St. Albans, Vermont. It's a regional thing.

Q: Are young bands mistaken by overlooking smaller bars in outlying areas?

A: We were always small enough to fit budget-wise in a neighborhood bar. It's not fair to ask the guy for $500 dollars. It's not that he wouldn't pay the $500. It's economic death. Many bands that play [the Providence clubs] are from Burrillville. They work hard to get a gig, and sometimes it costs them money by the time they pay the sound guy. A&R people aren't there. They'd be much better off trying to convince someone in Foster to have them play a night. Many only have 25 minutes worth of music, if that. So there's no way they could sustain a night. So they'd have to get three other bands and offer a show. That's what they should do. They wouldn't make a lot, but would feel much better in the long run, and learn more about the business than weeknights at the Living Room.

Q: After two decades, what's left to accomplish?

A: Staying working. You tend not to pick your head up and look up too often. I worked 20 years and don't have a pension, so there's no way I could retire. That's completely out of the question. So my goal would be to find, be it a store or a bar, something that would work in conjunction with the band. Lots of bands used to do that, like good old doo-wop bands. Five guys bought a bar and played weekends. They were able to do both.

2nd Avenue will perform at Stuffie's in North Providence tonight and Friday, and on Saturday at the Albion Pub.

START 'EM YOUNG. For the next three Thursdays at the new Children's Museum downtown, area players gather for workshops, demonstrations and performances for kids. The free program at the Epiphany Arts Center continues on December 4 with group drumming with Abdoul Doumbia, followed by a jazz expo with Zach Pitt-Smith, Jeremy Berberian and pals, and closing with a performance on 12/18 by double-bassist/storyteller Richard Hartshorne, a member of the Apple Hill Chamber Players. Ring 273-KIDS for the skinny on this new event sponsored by the South Providence Community Music Program. An early holiday gift that could last for years? Can't say unless you try.