ND: Were there also specific singers out of the Cuban traditions that you heard growing up that were an influence or inspiration?
RM: Oh my God, yeah. The thing about that is, since growing up in Miami you’re around Cuban music so much, when you’re a kid you don’t appreciate it; you want to become Americanized. If you were a son of immigrants, it wasn’t cool — back then — to be Latin, to be Cuban. It’s different now, of course. Cuban music was around me; I loved it at parties and all that stuff, but it wasn’t something that I wanted to do.
ND: There’s an interesting parallel in the many young southern or midwestern kids we encounter in No Depression who were raised with country music in the house, but became punk rockers or were interested in grunge or anything but country, because it was their parents’ music — before later feeling pulled back to it.
RM: Yes; you rebel against what you might naturally go toward, and maybe you should go toward! I spent my whole life listening to Celia Cruz, and Benny More, and Orquesta Aragon, and all of these great old Cuban orchestras; so that music was always part of me. And the Mavericks’ first real album’s title track was “From Hell To Paradise”, but it took leaving all of that behind to really appreciate what that meant to me. While I was in Miami, we were doing country music — and as soon as I left for my solo record and Nashville, then I wanted to do Cuban music!
III. TAKE YOUR CHANCES AND TRY TO SING IN TUNE
ND: Did the kid singing alone in that apartment banquet hall already find it easy to figure how to take on a song, or is that something you’ve had to work at a lot?
RM: That’s different at different times for me, on a song by song basis. Sometimes it’s really easy and natural and just happens, and there are some that I labor over. One was a song we did for the Gram Parsons tribute, and now again on the Acoustic Sessions — “Hot Burrito #1”. I had the hardest time getting into it. For melodic structure, Gram had his own inimitable way of doing things, which was great for him, but not necessarily easy for someone else. It was so difficult I thought I’d never sing it, but I took a break from it, relaxed, and just lived with it a little bit — and now it’s one of my favorite things to sing.
ND: So the fact that a song may be a tough nut to crack doesn’t mean you won’t do it.
RM: No. If there’s anything to say about me it’s that I’m relentlessly stubborn and stupid sometimes, and I will do things that a lot of people just won’t do. Part of it is that I’m just made that way, and part of it is that I like to be challenged; I think that’s exciting.
ND: “The Air That I Breathe” is really a simple, very teenage rock ballad in much of what it says — “Baby, I’d even give up cigarettes and records for you!” So it has to get nailed just right or there’s not much to it but size. And your take on the Mavericks reunion CD is just great! How did that arrangement take shape?
RM: I had been toying with that song, just playing it around the house a bit, on guitar. Then in the studio, between takes of other stuff, I started playing it, and the band joined right in, since they kind of knew it. Everybody thought it sounded really good, so though it was really off-the-cuff, our producer said let’s do it, and that’s how that came about. You can think yourself into a ball of inertia, you know; I’d rather risk making a wrong decision. Some people won’t like it, but you just gotta take your chances and try to sing in tune.
IV: THERE WERE OTHER PROJECTS THAT I WANTED TO DO
ND: Does your songwriting — solo or with collaborators — reflect that you’re generally writing for you as the singer?
RM: I don’t write for a lot of other people, though I have — like the song “That’s What I Get” that I wrote with Chuck Mead, for the new BR549 record, or the collaborations with Rick Trevino….When I write for me, I definitely write in a different style, because I like to elongate words, and draw out phrases. And again, this goes back to the drama that you were talking about: I know that drama’s in my psyche, it’s in my voice. It’s what I do. I automatically go toward that.
ND: What makes a song not just a Malo, but a Mavericks song? It seems that’s been subject to evolution over time.
RM: If it has more than two chords, if it has strange, syncopated Latin beats, it’s not going to be a Mavericks song! That’s pretty much it. And by the way, the Mavericks will admit to that themselves; I’m not dissing them in any way.
ND: It’s the element that makes the Mavericks, still, a country rock band.
RM: Exactly — and I love it that way. So if I want to do a Latin album, it can be something completely different. I didn’t always feel free to do that. When a major label has an act like ourselves that want to venture out and try different things, it’s difficult for them to take that in. They’ve got numbers that they have to meet. Back then, there was no talking about outside projects — which was very frustrating. That’s really what led to the band’s break. There were other projects that I wanted to do.
So now that I’ve gotten to do them and we’re on a label that’s pretty wide open to whatever I want to do, it’s a beautiful thing. Labels like Sanctuary are going to be the labels of the future — with the musicians taking more of a lead, and where you can have a career selling a couple of hundred thousand records, and tour, and have a nice life without working for a #1 every time you make a record. I mean, that pressure is just insurmountable — and it’s ridiculous.
ND: About some of the other projects you’re free to take on now — how did The Nashville Acoustic Sessions set come about, with Pat Flynn, Rob Ickes, and Dave Pomeroy?
RM: That happened in between record deals; it was done a while ago. A friend of mine does A&R at the CMH label, and he asked if I’d wanted to do a sort of bluegrass project. I said, “First of all, I’m not a bluegrass singer.” I mean, I love bluegrass — but it would be a slap in the face to the bluegrass guys if I suddenly started doing that! It would be a disingenuous effort, and I couldn’t be comfortable with it.
