Marah: Where Have You Gone?

I’m a music junkie. When I find something that “fits” I’ll play it constantly. Up until a few weeks ago my disease was in remission. Then I checked-in on an old favorite, Marah.

Marah’s 2008 album, “Angels of Destruction” is my new, ultra drug. The entire album revolves around an apocalyptic theme; it is all spiritual warfare waged in the souls of tireless troubadours: in their hears, in their souls, in back rooms and back seats.

Brothers Dave and Serge Bielanko conjure Old Testament lyrical intensity with images of desperation in the desert, prophesy in the Midwest and spiritual malaise in the greatest city man has ever created: NYC.

Apocalyptic prophesy doesn’t belong in rock n’ roll, but when you hear it playing in Marah’s heart, as interpreted through their road-worn souls, you can’t help but feel a tangible authenticity.

Marah’s “If You Didn’t Laugh You’d Cry” was a perfect fit for most of 2005, and now I’m kicking myself for coming late to the “Angels of Destruction” show, because Marah are no more. Could it be? That’s what I’m reading.

Apparently Serge had a kid and decided to stay off the road (understandable…a great loss to rock n’ roll’s ruthless heart, but understandable none-the-less). Serge Beilanko’s departure was proceeded by an exodus from the Marah rhythm section, a team so perfectly able to transition from studio to road that one wonders how the lone Marah-ster Dave Bielanko will manage without them. Apparently, not so well.

As I rolled through my fifth straight listen to “Angels of Destruction” I was suddenly struck with a desperate desire to contact the band. My old band, The Trailer Park Travoltas, had worked with Marah a couple times in the past, and I still had their YepRock rep in my rolodex. Sadly (and kind of expectantly), calls were not returned. I went back to square one – sifting through the disintegration trail of data leftovers found on the old Interwebz. I found several email addresses to reps and etc., but alas alack, nothing came back.

Dave’s abandonment really hit home with me. About two years before my old band, The Trailer Park Travoltas, did our own dance of disintegration, my entire band left me: from the drummer to the lead guitarist. I was left with nothing. The sad part is that I didn’t blame them. But I had a lot of money socked into equipment, and six half finished songs at VanderPluym studios. Eventually, the universe smiled on us and beset me with a group of players whose worth far outsold my own.

But here’s Dave and Serge, two men who are very, very, very (did I say “very”?) talented. The Travoltas had about 10 songs that were worthy of a listen. Contrasted with Marah, The Travoltas aren’t even a pimple on the ass of the least caste beggar hobbling beneath the deadly hot sun of Marah. And yet, somehow their star burned out. It doesn’t make sense.

In fact, it makes so little sense that I am sincerely holding out for their triumphant return. And if you’re listening boys, you know that I’m not the only one.