I Must've Spent 30 Rainy Days
Can you see a theme here? We're getting stuff done these days. We stacking up the bricks and smearing the mortar. We're skippin in lock-step. We're scorching the old to make way for the new. And what does the new look like? Well, a lot like 1999. It's an ambiguous time, what with all the pre-millennium tension and ignorance. Confusing times for sure, since it wasn't anything like the world Prince sang about. But there we were. I can clearly see myself turning a corner at a street fair and seeing Mazarin up on a stage while people drink lemonade and guzzle funnel cakes. They're wrapped up in jangle and glisten in the sun, smelling like a new cassette. When they finally get to Wheats in their setlist -- their first single -- the crowd is right there with them, smiles and fists in the air.
Too bad that never happened. Too bad I never had any idea who Mazarin was. They were quietly strumming their way in the underground, getting worshipped in the UK as the second-coming of Jeff Mangum and signing to spinART. Who knew?
This is from the second volume of Tiny Idols, which is a compilation series unearthing forgotten indie bands from the mid-to-late 90s. It's rock solid, all the way through, and curator Mark Griffey has done his homework. He's already at work researching volume 3. And holy shit, what a song. Where was I during all this? I mean, 1999 is right in my wheelhouse of underground music... but with the internet still in its toddler phase and a dearth of decent record stores, it's not hard to believe this little band slipped through my fingers.
The crazy part is that Mazarin is still around! Dudes surfaced again just last year and they're about to go into the studio and record another one! Well, if it's even half this good I'll be happy. At any rate, you can pick up Tiny Idols from our friends at Snowglobe Records. It's so worth it.