The Mavericks live up to their name
by Seth Rogovoy

(WILLIAMSTOWN, Mass., July 26, 1998) -- (mav-er-ick) n. (1). An unbranded or orphaned range calf or colt, traditionally considered the property of the first person who brands it. (2). A horse or steer that has escaped from a herd. (3. a.) One who refuses to abide by the dictates of his group; a dissenter. (b). One who resists adherence to or affiliation with any single organized group or faction; an independent.

The above definition of the term "maverick," taken from the New College Edition of the American Heritage Dictionary, unwittingly tells the story of its namesake group, The Mavericks, (4). the Miami-bred quartet of musicians that makes records in Nashville but refuses to be hitched to any preconceived notion of what constitutes "country music."

When they first appeared on the scene nine years ago, The Mavericks were branded as a country group, and signed to MCA Nashville. The band's second album, "What a Crying Shame," garnered it two awards from the Academy of Country Music in 1994, separating the group from the generic herd of neo-traditional pretenders.

With the group's latest album, "Trampoline" -- an adventurous, eclectic tour de force recorded live in the studio and scattered with mariachi horns and neo-cocktail sitar lines -- The Mavericks have fully lived up to their name. A declaration of independence from mainstream Nashville, the album is a dizzying journey through Roy Orbison balladry and Tom Jones lounge-pop, with brief stopovers in Byrds-derived jangle- rock, Memphis soul and a bit of vaudeville-inspired surrealism.

When The Mavericks appear at the National Music Center in Lenox on Thursday, July 30 at 8, the neo-honky-tonk quartet will have swollen in size to a 10-piece mini-orchestra, with a four-piece horn section, a keyboardist and an extra guitarist on hand to help portray the band's new, expansive sound: one-part Phil Spector's wall of sound, one-part carnival.

"We've always had a little identity crisis," said bassist and Mavericks co-founder Robert Reynolds, in a recent phone interview. "Are we a country band? It would depend on the definition. I would tend to say, we're an American band." (Yes indeed, at this point in the interview, Reynolds broke out in song, quoting the classic Grand Funk Railroad hit.)

Whatever they are now, their roots are clearly in country music. When they first got together, The Mavericks took the Miami club scene by storm, playing souped-up versions of classic honky-tonk numbers by Hank Williams and Buck Owens, something unusual for that place and time. Fueled by their love for country's heyday and lead singer Raul Malo's heartbreaking, Roy Orbison-like tenor, the group made it to Nashville and in short order had a record deal.

"When we got to Nashville," said Reynolds, "there were so many country acts and there was so much sameness....There were a lot of hats, a lot of wranglers. It was a trend that I don't think The Mavericks fit well in. At best, in '95 and '96, when we were winning some awards and selling a lot of records to the country-music market, we were still square pegs."

As a result, the group followed its inclination to escape the herd, or, as Reynolds put it, "We decided to let the pendulum go the other way a little bit."

"A little bit" is putting it mildly, as "Trampoline" is a downright exotic excursion into nostalgic pop music. There are hints of country in Malo's natural twang, and an occasional guitar lick suggests a pedal steel, but the overall effect is somewhere to the left of recent efforts by Chris Isaak or K.D. Lang. Get out the martini glasses and cocktail stirrers and the old Twister game, and let's lounge!

"As long as I can remember, since age ten or so, I had this strange fascination with some past eras," said Reynolds. "I was already collecting collectibles and antiques by that time, and music followed shortly after that. I didn't buy Foreigner records or Styx albums. I got Buddy Holly and the Everly Brothers.

"We're not just a throwback band. We've tried to contemporize some of those sounds and musical concepts, some of that simplicity, and bring it back, blow the dust off, and make it work today. We never really set out to be a Sha Na Na-type group. As a matter of fact, we've all at one time or another made money playing covers. And The Mavericks were definitely a break from that. It's like, let's take everything we feel and know about that music and let's make some original stuff."

Which is exactly what "Trampoline" sounds like -- as if they've taken everything they know and put it all down, without irony or post-modern pastiche, but with sincerity and unabashed nostalgia.

"America is that proverbial melting pot," said Reynolds. "We're almost like a microcosm of tha melting pot-thing musically. Take a little Tex- Mex, a little of that Latin thing that migrated up into the States. We've got just a touch of R&B with these new horn things we've got going on. We love classic rock, which stems from anything from country to blues. And we love our old country stuff. You mix it all up, I'm not sure what you've got, but we're that band."

If you would like to purchase Mavericks' latest CD "Trampoline" on-line, please click on the SoundStone logo to the right.

[This article originally appeared in the Berkshire Eagle on July 30, 1998. Copyright Seth Rogovoy 1998. All rights reserved.]