Press
 
back
Rouze
San Francisco, California
 
NY rocker Joe Mannix looks for his audience
By Richard Morgantown
January 2000
   
1999 has come and gone, and you probably still haven't heard one of the best indie albums of the year. Mannix's Pretty Strange has been getting by on little more than dedicated radio support and a grassroots following. It may be the group's debut album, but the band is led by a long-suffering New Yorker. Joe Mannix has spent years as the most wrongly ignored star in a Manhattan scene full of hyped-up disappointments. Now, his new act matches lovely pop melodies with a relentless backwoods charm. People are slowly catching on, with Mannixrock.com playing a major role.

ROUZE: You spent most of the decade packing Manhattan bars with a punky little pop band ideal for the '90s market. Why didn't that make you a star?

Joe and Chris with Caleb Southern
   
Joe Mannix: I think it was because of where we were as a band. Oral Groove didn't have proper connections. Maybe it was just our destiny to never meet the right people. The clubs were packed, and we did really well, but we never had a manager. The only industry people who noticed were the booking people. It just never translated to the next level.

ROUZE: So then you formed Mannix and started working the heartland sound. Weren't you worried that it was a little trendy?

Mannix: The album has elements of that, but I prefer to think of it as kind of folksy. It probably had a lot to do with what I was listening to at the time. I mainly wanted to make some kind of break from Oral Groove. But it seems that I'll never get away from writing three-minute pop songs. That may be why I've never gotten too far in that whole No Depression scene. I've just been on the periphery. My whole career has been like that.

ROUZE: Do you at least take some comfort in being in New York City, where local acts just don't seem capable of becoming rock stars?

Mannix: Well, there's Spacehog—but I guess they're actually from the U.K. But no, I don't take comfort in that at all. I've thought about moving a few times, especially when Oral Groove broke up. I thought about it, but Chris Peck—who's my drummer and my friend—couldn't make the jump. He's a big part of what I'm doing, so I decided to stay in town and finally get a manager.

ROUZE: There's a big Manhattan hipster pop underground that parallels the movement in Los Angeles. Why aren't you ever involved in those things?

Mannix: To be honest, that whole obsession with the pop sound annoys the shit out of me. I consider the term to be really strange, even though the album I'm working on now has more of a pop direction. I just hate to be pigeonholed. I'm a big fan of Charlie Rich, and I guess he had a similar problem with his record companies, because they couldn't narrow him down. But I should add that I've played out west at the International Pop Overthrow shows over the past three years, and it's really made some connections for me out there.

ROUZE: Finally, the packaging looks great on Pretty Strange. Where does the money come from?

Mannix: Basically, I've worked. I was a branch manager for an import-export company for about seven years and saved a lot of money. I made a choice about eight months ago to just start concentrating on my music full time. Pretty Strange is doing well. It's gotten plenty of distributors, and the Internet has been great. It still seems like things are getting there.

 
top