from The Boston Pheonix
Buffalo Bill’s new ride
Buffalo Tom’s Bill Janovitz takes a cruise with Crown Victoria; plus Henry
go Underground
BY TED DROZDOWSKI
SILVER LINING:
Janovitz and Crown Victoria add up to a lot more than boss-plus-sidemen. When
Bill Janovitz hits a chord and steps to the microphone, all of his signatures
come booming through. Often literally. Although a few Saturdays ago at the Paradise
Lounge he’d left his big Marshall and Fender amps at home for what looked
like a pair of their offspring, his guitar was teeth-rattling loud, creating
a spray of distorted tones that flitted like tiny hornets around his chords
and even the notes in the spare melody lines of his solos. His sound is big
and uplifting enough to blow Marilyn Monroe’s skirt higher than that subway
grate did.
Then there’s his stance. Eyes narrowed, Janovitz bends at the knees and
approaches the microphone from its bottom, singing up from beneath. "That’s
a punk-rock thing," he says, laughing. "You wear your guitar low and
sing aiming high."
Also, there are Janovitz’s lyrics. No matter how streaked with cynicism
or futility they may be — after all, he is the author of the gem "Taillights
Fade," a radio hit for his main band, Buffalo Tom —there’s
always a silver lining or at least an escape clause for the people who dwell
in them. Even for the boy seduced by teacher Mary Kay Letourneau, the subject
of the song "Mary Kay" on the new album by Janovitz’s other
group, Bill Janovitz and Crown Victoria.
That disc, Fireworks on TV (Q Division), is essentially Janovitz’s third
solo release, following 2001’s acoustic-guitar-based Bill Janovitz (SpinArt)
and 1997’s Lonesome Billy (Beggars Banquet). But Janovitz has been working
enough with drummer Tom Polce and keyboardist Phil Aiken, who also has played
with Buffalo Tom, that they’ve jelled into something more than boss-plus-sidemen.
That was obvious at their Paradise set in advance of Fireworks on TV ’s
September 7 street date. Although the CD’s bassist, Josh Lattenz, was
replaced on stage by Matt Taheney, there was a discernable give-and-take in
their performance, especially when Polce pumped up the dynamics to underscore
the drama of Janovitz’s mercurial howl, or when everybody pulled back
to let Akin emphasize a sensitive passage with some atmospheric tones or to
allow the high capo’ed chords of Janovitz’s Telecaster to gently
ring out through the ballads.
"I wrote the songs and the guys play them, but everybody contributes so
much to the arrangements as we work them out in rehearsal that it’s really
a group effort," Janovitz explains a few days after the show when we meet,
like the clean-livin’ guys we are, over salads and soft drinks at Joshua
Tree in Somerville’s Davis Square.
Janovitz is taking some time from his third endeavor, selling real estate —
a job that provides the flexible schedule he needs to both rock and earn a living
for his family — to talk about his latest album and band, and about Buffalo
Tom, who fans will be happy to learn are still alive and well, albeit on their
own terms. He’s also writing a book in his spare time, on the Rolling
Stones’ Exile on Main Street, for the classic-rock-obsessed "33 1/3"
book series.
"I don’t know if or when Buffalo Tom will make another album, but
we might, and meanwhile playing shows seems to be enough for us," Janovitz
says.
"When we come together as Buffalo Tom, as much as we like to think we can
break our old habits, the music falls into certain patterns. It’s unavoidable.
We’ve spent so much time together we’re like brothers. But playing
with Crown Victoria, I get a chance to play differently. I can explore the soul
music I love with call-and-response vocals. I can really sink my teeth into
something closer to classic rock or to country at times, instead of that big
alternative-rock sound that’s associated with Buffalo Tom. Playing with
different people lets me bring those things out easier."
Indeed, there’s even more of that lingering, dirty, Neil Young–like
intensity in some of Janovitz’s solos with Crown Victoria and in the way
he’ll slide between brief melodic fills and fat, buzzing chords. Of course,
it’s not like he’s ever hidden the Young, Townshend, Richards, or
even Mascis in his playing. After all, Buffalo Tom and J. Mascis’s Dinosaur
Jr. came out of the same Western Massachusetts scene in the late 1980s. And
when it comes to establishing a big guitar sound, there are few models better
than Janovitz’s influences.
"When Buffalo Tom began, we all needed to fill more space so we slid into
the classic power-trio dynamic, where we all turned up to cover for each other
and fill up the bottom of the music," he explains. "Crown Victoria
came about because I wasn’t sure if Buffalo Tom was going to continue.
We were sick of the touring grind and couldn’t do it anymore, since we
had kids and all. We had just signed with Polydor and then got dropped by them,
in 1999. They paid us for some options so we thought it would be a good time
to take a break. But all the while, until we started playing live again, I didn’t
know if we’d get back together. But even if we had stopped I think we’ve
left a lot behind that we can be proud of and that will carry on."
Although Janovitz would like to keep Crown Victoria on the road, chances are
they’ll only be making spins through the region and maybe to New York
in the near future. The Janovitzes are expecting another baby. Nonetheless,
after more than 15 years in the rock-and-roll trenches, he still gets off on
playing live. "It’s like being an athlete, a Zen thing. I never feel
as comfortable in my own skin as I am on stage. But that said, if I had to give
up one aspect of making music, it would be performing live. I can’t imagine
ever not writing and recording songs."
Janovitz’s fans can’t imagine it either. There’s something
about the earnest tone of his voice, the pleas that creep into his most poignant
singing, that ring dead-on true for the hard-core listeners who came to hear
him play his new numbers with Crown Victoria or to catch one of Buffalo Tom’s
rare performances. Buffalo Tom recently played the Beachcomber in Wellfleet,
on Cape Cod, and Janovitz says he met fans from Chicago and one Buffalo Tom
buff who’d made the trip from Italy.
"Maybe it’s because they think we’re going to break up and
they’ll never get to see us again, or maybe it’s the ‘Jerry
Garcia Watch,’ " Janovitz jokes, "but knowing that people
came that far to hear us inspires me."