Man of 1,000 bands talks

Mike “Man of 1,000 Bands” Shanley, A’E Editor at Pulp, not to mention a vocalist and bass… Mike “Man of 1,000 Bands” Shanley, A’E Editor at Pulp, not to mention a vocalist and bass player, opens up with this intrepid reporter about writing music, writing about music and performing live with The Mofones.

Have you always been artistic?

I’ve wanted to play music from the time I was seven years old and heard Alice Cooper for the very first time. I wanted to tour with Alice Cooper. I always wanted to play in a band. I had this idea that I was going to be a music major because I played the saxophone. I applied to a couple music schools, including Duquesne, where I had one of the textbook horrible auditions. I was totally demoralized but I couldn’t bring myself to realize: “try something else.” The Berklee School of Music; I got into them just on the basis of the written applications.

But you didn’t enter Berklee.

I went to Duquesne for five minutes when I was 18 – one semester, really – and then goofed off for a few years and enrolled at Pitt when I was 21. I was still thinking, “Well, I’ll be a music major.” By that time, I knew that if I had 12 hours a day to devote to playing saxophone, I might be pretty good. But I didn’t, and by then, I was a much better bass player because I played twice a week at practice with a band. I used to be in a band called Bone of Contention years ago, and I thought, “Well, I’ll just be a writing major.” I can still remember sitting in Algebra class thinking that. I was like, “Whoa! That’s what I’ll do. Yeah! You can’t make money from playing music anyway, and you can from writing, and I like writing.”

Do you have any regrets waiting to go back to school?

I think I had a better perspective on things. I was hanging around Pitt all the time ’cause all these people that I knew worked for the radio station and I wanted to work for the radio station and I wanted to go to classes and talk about the same stuff they did. ‘Cause I was just like the guy who just came around and hung out. You know – this crazy, beatnik roommate.

Tell me about being the Arts and Entertainment editor at Pulp. What do you like about it?

I’ve always loved music, and it’s great writing about it and hearing stuff and talking to musicians. I never want to think about things this way, about how I did a good job or I really connect with musicians, but there have been times I’ve talked to people where I feel like there has been a bond there. There was a jazz musician, Charlie Haden, a bass player who came to town earlier this year. He started out playing avant-garde jazz in the ’50s. His work deals with human rights and struggling to overcome prejudice; things like that. He said something that struck me as kind of deep in the middle of the conversation. Something like, “I always want to tell audiences that you’re a really great audience and I wish I could multiply you three thousand times and the world would be a better place.” I didn’t know how to respond to it, and I always hate having dead air. I just said, “Wow, man, you gave me something really – you’ve given me a lot to think about.” And he said, “That’s cool man! That’s great – I’m glad!” It felt genuine and, like, he doesn’t always get that kind of a response from interviewers.

The song “Failed Attempts at a New Testament” from Mofones! The CD that you and The Mofones recorded last year – I think a lot of artists can relate to having doubts about their art.

Yeah, that’s really what it’s about. I think every few years, I write a song about writing songs, but a few years ago in The New York Times, they had a round-up of all the boxed sets that came out that year. They had the Guided by Voices boxed set, and, you know, Robert Pollard is the guy who is kind of the leader of the band. The guy writing about the boxed set said something to the effect of, “any time Robert Pollard sneezes, a good song comes out.” And I was thinking, “I wish I could really do that, just come up with a song.” So from putting down the newspaper, going upstairs and getting ready to take a shower, I had this chorus in my head, and an idea for the song, and I kind of built it around that. It is hard writing a song. It’s really like pulling teeth for me.

Why do you think it’s hard?

I doubt myself all the time. I’m always really insecure about my melody lines, you know, “Does it sound like the last song I wrote?” Sometimes I’ll sit down and come up with a song idea and get the structure down and a melody and a few lines, and I’ll think, “Well, that’s good for now. I’ll come back to it.”

Who has influenced you a lot with bass?

Mike Watt, who was in The Minutemen and then fIREHOSE. The Minutemen were a punk rock band out in California in the ’80s. They didn’t sound like a typical punk band – there were jazz influences and funk, and he’d just play all over the bass. I remember seeing them when I was in high school. I was just learning to play the bass and my way was like hitting the low E string, just playing an open note and moving up like this. I swear, for the first half of the set, he didn’t even touch the E string. He was just all over the other ones, so I always thought, “Wow, I’d really like to play like that.”

You seem to have a lot of fun performing – would you like to do more?

Oh, I’d love to do more. It’s hard the day after a show coming down just because, I mean, it is fun. It’s a blast. Playing in general is – you know, I think if I did it more, it would make the down times even harder because it is kind of a rush playing, especially if you have an appreciative audience. Anytime we can play, we’ll be happy to do so. Anywhere they’ll have us is good.

Mike Shanley and the rest of The Mofones play Thursday, Oct. 2 at 9:30 pm at the 31st Street Pub, 3101 Penn Ave. in the Strip District. For more information, call (412) 391-8334.