Many sensitive, daydreaming children grow up to be capable singer-songwriters, but few distinguish themselves at aggressive guitar rock.
Despite an earnest effort, Marcy Playground leader John Wozniak didn’t change this state of affairs much during the first of the New York trio’s two sold-out performances Monday night at Schubas. During the band’s sharply executed 90-minute set, Wozniak’s longing ballads were consistently more engaging than his mildly quirky, moderately rocking songs.
Wozniak’s introspective-kid credentials are well-established. The name of his band itself is an allusion to the Minneapolis schoolyard he looked onto while staying indoors during recess to avoid bullies, and his songs frequently center on the fanciful refuges of the misfit child.
Wozniak sang about cartoon superheroes (“Secret Squirrel”), science fiction heroes (“Wave Motion Gun”) and heroes from classic children’s literature (“Ballad of Aslan”). Even the pickup in “Sex and Candy,” the band’s ear-catching breakthrough, played as a reverie, as Wozniak sang, “This must be my dream.”
While the naughty-and-nice frisson of “Sex and Candy” obviously accounts for much of the song’s popularity, its combination of gentle guitar strumming and easygoing vocals is every bit as important.
In the wake of the first Lilith Fair, even Green Day is having more success with melancholy ballads than noisy rock, and Wozniak filled Marcy Playground’s self-titled debut with acoustic guitars and pensive melodies.
In concert, however, Wozniak used amplification and effects to make his acoustic guitar crunch, grind and roar. The opening song, “Poppies,” featured a sputtering punk riff, and “Black Eyed Sue” began with an extended bout of improvised clamor.
Mostly, though, Wozniak played mid-tempo songs built around jangling guitar chords, sometimes adding jazz, country or Latin music flavorings. Dylan Keefe’s bass lines burrowed under the songs like a mole, knocking them slightly off-balance, while Dan Reiser added crashing drums.
Singing drowsy melodies in his soft baritone, Wozniak sounded more like he was commenting on the events of his songs than participating in them, particularly when dryly rolling off snapshots of urban despair in “The Vampires of New York.” His detachment added emotional weight to his quietest songs, imbuing “One More Suicide” with haunting resignation and filling “Sherry Fraser” with wistful desire.
Even Wozniak recognized that his music leaned heavily to the mild. “We’re going to do something different tonight,” he said, introducing the band’s third and final encore. “We’re going to rock.”
Too often, though, when Marcy Playground tried to be raucous, Wozniak’s muted singing and fussy guitar parts diluted the songs’ impact. Instead of giving his music a unique personal stamp, Wozniak absorbed the peculiarities of various indie-rock heroes.
Wozniak was most animated, and impressive, on some of the unrecorded songs Marcy Playground sprinkled throughout its show. For “Rebel Sodville” and “And I Knew,” he paired tense guitar parts with the throbbing rhythm section while his voice floated above the din. Once again, he was in the peculiar situation of being at his best when a bit removed from the fray.
