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Successful bands are born of a dream.  To be sure, there has to be talent, great songs, showmanship, endurance, and more than a little luck.  But these are just the kindling.  The indespensable catalyst that ignites the fire is the dream, that inner spark of desire to speak not just to the head but to the soul.  The nature of the thing is hard to describe.  Words don't do it justice.  But when the dream is alive, the audience knows it.  They feel it.  And when life and reality get in the way, and the dream begins to fade as it inevitably does with even the greatest of bands, well, the audience knows that as well.

John Wozniak still has the dream.  It's been twelve years since he and Marcy Playground made it big with the band's self-titled debut album and their signature single Sex and Candy, surely one of the best examples of late-90s post-grunge alternative rock.  Nothing the band have done since has quite measured up, at least commercially speaking.  Their next effort, 1999's Shapeshifter, was less successful, and drummer Dan Rieser left soon thereafter.  Another five years passed before the three-piece, re-constituted with a new drummer, released their third and most recent offering, 2004's MP3, which also failed to gain commercial success.  But Wozniak, bassist Dylan Keefe, and the band's third drummer, Shlomi Lavie, have been touring since spring in anticipation of the band's fourth release, titled Leaving Wonderland...in a fit of rage, which comes out July 7 along with a companion rarities and b-sides disc.  Last night, they brought the show to Juanita's, playing to an enthusiastic and adoring crowd.  And judging from Wozniak's performance, the dream is clearly still alive.

One of the first things that surprises you at a Marcy Playground performance is the depth of sound that the band are able to create with just two guitars and a drum kit, and the apparent effortlessness with which they do it.  These guys are seasoned musicians -- well, at least Wozniak and Keefe are -- and they appear to be completely at ease on stage.  But that's not to say that they're complacent.  Anything but.  Wozniak's unmistakable voice rang on the high notes and resonated on the low ones, while his guitar obeyed every command to great sonic effect.  Keefe and Lavie laid the foundation with a driving baseline and masterful drumming.

Though the set was not particularly long, the Little Rock crowd got a good sampling of the best from every album, including the soon-to-be-released new record.  The first album was represented by such songs as (of course) Sex And Candy, Saint Joe On The School Bus, Sherry Fraser, and, surprisingly, Opium, a song that Wozniak claimed he hadn't played in ten years.  Then it was Bye Bye and Secret Squirrel from Shapeshifter, and Rock And Roll Heroes and Barfly from MP3.  Finally, the audience was treated to Good Times, Star Baby, and Memphis from the new album.  The highlight of the night, though, had to be the band's final song, an excellent cover of Leonard Cohen's Hallelujah, which turned out to be the perfect song to showcase Wozniak's vocal range and Lavie's sophisticated drumming.  The whole set was a satisfying performance, though no one would have complained if it had gone on a few songs more.

It's anyone's guess how the new album will fare or if Marcy Playground will ever again top the charts.  The catalyst is still there, but are the other ingredients?  Talent?  Showmanship?  Endurance?  Check.  Check.  Check.  Great new songs?  Luck?  On those two only time will tell.  In the meantime, dreamers can dream.

--Richie Graham "G"

"That was the shittiest band I've EVER heard!" I was smoking a cigarette out in front of the Rev Room and I heard an unsatisfied hipster redneck remark on how terrible the band was. It brought a smile to my face. Much like all the swarming Ernie Biggs fashionistas buzzing around the River Market, oblivious to the fact that some of the better bands in Little Rock were baring their souls just inches away, some people just don't get it. I've noticed many people at the Rev Room typically show up for most of these events to be "cool" and "indie" and usually wind up an hour later, unimpressed, and seeking comfort in the American-Idol reject, Top 40 ass-hat at the bar across the street. Which is fine. Good riddance. Which is why I am glad that in the past year I've stumbled upon Little Rock's out of proportion music scene. Kris Allen even said it didn't exist. Which must make it all the more valuable to the people that created it back in the Towncraft days.

Going back to some of Little Rock's roots, the show last night was an announcement to Little Rock that the Localist publication is back. I wasn't here when it was around, but can already foresee the bi-monthly publications piling up around my room. Anything that is 80% words 15% photos and 5% advertisement is a breath of fresh air in our community. I don't have anything against The Arkansas Times or Sync, they are not marketed to me, nor the liberal leaning post college crowd of 7th and Thayer. With that said, the Localist will probably be a very boring and dry read to the people that only pick up a magazine to frantically look for their face amongst all the feel-good cocktail party photos of the lame-Os around town, skipping past all the full page furniture ads and the token self help patio and garden tips.  

Welcome back to Localist and I'm excited that the arts and music scene once again has it's mouthpiece.

-T