Mad Man Films: Back For A Second Round

Words by C.D. Di Guardia

Photos by Jeff Galusha

He has the gruff, yet hospitable air of a long-time local. Working at a bar in Central Square must be only slightly less weird than working in the Mos Eisley Cantina, so it would take something special to make this man take notice.

He has taken notice of Mad Man Films.

He is slightly bemused by the drink order, as if he somehow likes these three young men for some reason that he does not yet know. George Zapata has just informed him that "I'll take a Budweiser - because it's American," a statement that would possibly get him a backhander in other situations. No worries here in the Cantab Lounge, however - this large man is clearly on the Mad Man Films team, even though he can't explain what is so charming about this trio.

The three play off each other constantly - even in their drink orders. Drummer Joe Ciampini instantly goes for a gin and tonic, which doesn't seem to surprise his band mates. Zapata makes his Budweiser spot, and then bassist Zak Longo orders a more intricate, yet potently strong mixed drink, drawing murmurs of appreciation from the table. The Cantab Lounge man stalks off to get the booze, and the three members of Mad Man Films sit at the small table, considering just how they ended up here in this particular situation - if they can indeed put their fingers on just what this situation is.

If one were to make an actual film about the existence of Mad Man Films, one would need a good travel budget. The band has so many stickers affixed to their figurative suitcase that it seems improbable for them to be sitting in a Mass. Ave. bar, but here they are, eating French fries, drinking beer, and figuring out just how it is that this came to be.

The East Coast is a common factor. Ciampini grew up in Long Island, New York while Longo calls Atlantic Highlands, New Jersey his hometown. George Zapata grew up in Venice, Florida, even if he takes a little while to admit it. "Kind of. Sort of. More or less ... Yes I did," he finally affirms. It was there that he met bassist Zak Longo, not yet a bassist. "We were 'acoustic warriors'," says Zapata.

How long ago was this? The band never seems to be able to immediately identify a year.The two played together for around two years, until Zapata moved to Boston, "mostly to get away from Florida," he explains. Longo made the same move about a year later.

"George and I wanted to make a band [in Boston] because we had so much fun playing acoustic together," stories Longo, who had just started playing bass a year prior to his move. Interested in music school, Longo was accepted to Berklee College of Music, where he met Ciampini.

Having formed the band, the next step was actually creating something. The band responded with 2005's Blak Powr EP, which the group recorded over a scant few days at Boston's New Alliance Studios. The six songs on Black Powr have been called everything from "art-funk" to "funk-punk," often with an accent on the funk. What most might hear as "funk," though, was really the group's devotion to strong rhythms and stronger accents as showcased in early Mad Man Films songs such as the standout "Brotherfucker," a song that will never, ever be heard on any radio, but most definitely should.

The overall sound of the band is a very full one that belies its three-man makeup. "I don't think I did any overdubs," says Zapata of the Blak Powr recordings. Longo takes the band's full sound as a point of pride, almost. "It's like a George guitar line is very involved, and the bass line is very involved and the drums fill in the spaces and it ends up sounding like a four- or five-piece band."

Armed with a strong recording and a few handy phone numbers, the band began playing local shows. Several high profile shows launched them if not into the spotlight, then the very soft edges of the spotlight. They have played with big-name New Alliance allies such as The Campaign for Real-Time and Stu Walker, and with arty underdogs such as Guillermo Sexo. Last month they played a veritable all-star show at the Middle East Downstairs with Tiny Whales, Blanks., Read Yellow and the aforementioned C4RT. This isn't bad for a band that hadn't performed a scheduled gig since the previous August.

Where did Mad Man Films go?

When a well-known Boston band disappears for such a long amount of time, most assume the worst. People never assume that maybe two of the members just went to Europe for a few months to play in a high-budget theatrical production.

Of course this sort of thing would only happen to Mad Man Films.

"We were part of a production called 'Uncle Danny,' doing some composition and performance," explains guitarist/singer turned theatrical composer Zapata, who met music producer Chris Lancaster after doing a few shows in New York City. Fellow traveler Ciampini is almost apologetic about the duo's sojourn to Copenhagen. "It was faux-artsy ... It wasn't a musical, which is what it sounds like we did. But it was as close to a musical as you can get. Without it being a musical," he concludes, having hopefully convinced himself.

The three musicians also launched individual side projects in the intervening months: Longo's project, Before Lazers, shared the February bill with Mad Man Films. Ciampini started Death to the Weird, and George Zapata continued work on his own project, George Lewis Jr.

The term "side project" usually sets off alarm bells for any band, but the three individual artists embrace this non-band music as an exhibition, a chance to separate the layers and see which aspects of the Mad Man Films sound come from which member of the band. Longo counts this experiment as enrichment to rather than detraction from the Mad Man Films experience. "By listening to what we do solo," he explains, "you get to say 'I see where that [aspect of Mad Man Films] is coming from' which I think is kind of cool."

The "vacation," coupled with the band's artistic outlets, were positives for the band, who months earlier had almost killed themselves and each other on a month-long tour that was very DIY. It was on this tour that group discovered that they, in fact, were not a DIY band.

"We were playing shows like crazy," says Zapata, who booked a month-long tour for the band in the summer of 2006. "We kind of 'overplayed' ourselves," he says, and his band mates nod in agreement; they are all tired of Doing It Themselves - they want to devote their energies to music, not music business.

"Some people are better at the DIY thing than others," shrugs Longo. "I don't think we're the personality types anymore."

"I thought that we were," wists Zapata. "I watched Fugazi's Instrument a few too many times!"

As touring is for any band, this trip was a defining moment for Mad Man Films, who drove as far west as Chicago and as far south as Florida. "We toured the Bible Belt without actually going to the Bible Belt," explains Zapata with a thumbs-up.

At this point, every tour is expected to have periods of tension, and the Mad Man Films tour was no exception. "I think we fought a lot less than expected, but when we did fight it was very personal and very agitated," explains Zapata.

Longo knows that the arguing had nothing to do with the music or the shows themselves - it was all business, which brings them to their current mindset. Money, logistics, advertising and promotion are things that the band has cleared from their collective plate.

"We decided to not worry about that stuff so it couldn't be argued about. If we had just been dealing with the tour we wouldn't have argued at all," says Longo.

"The three of us are just like 'Fuck it. Sleep in the mud? OK.'"

Mad Man Films is not willing to drive themselves into the ground with worries about airplay, advertising, press kits, booking or any of the other aspects of the music business that can make an otherwise good band implode. To them, this is "band death" - a demise brought on by endless worry and urgency. This, as they see it, should be someone else's job. They just need to find that Someone Else.

The best example of their commitment to this attitude is their new record.This record isn't on the rack of any radio station. It's not on your iPod and it's not in your friend's collection, no matter how underground he or she claims to be.

This untitled record sits in a studio vault, unheard by anyone save the members of the band and Ethan Dussault of New Alliace. Everything has been recorded, and save a few mixing details, it is ready to be heard.

They are in no hurry; they are prepared to wait "until it's time." They see no need to divert their artistic energies to the heavy task that is getting a record released.

Mad Man Films is the anti-DIY band and they are not willing to go back.

But the band is not worried. Zapata is all confidence. "I've got a lot of good cell phone numbers that I plan on using, and that should do the trick."

This plan seems almost an extreme stance on the band's anti-DIY ethic, but they feel the alternative is the aforementioned "band death," which isn't an option."We learned the hard way that doing everything yourself is destructive to band life. It's better to stick to having fun and doing music; let other people do that stuff if they want to," confirms Longo.

What if no one else wants to take over the business?

"If they don't do it, just keep having fun and making music. Fuck it."

Up to this point, the Mad Man Films story has been a weird one - acoustic warriors in Florida, overheard conversations on the street, secret records locked in vaults and a dismantling of the DIY "ethic."

The guys of Mad Man Films are maturing in both their new music and their outlook.

"We're getting older - we're not old, but we're getting older," says Zapata. "We're not that Boston punk band that played in your basement last week anymore," he shrugs.

"It would be awesome to be that band forever and ever, but I found a grey hair in my beard this vacation. Once you see that, you're not that band anymore."

Longo sees the process as not a line, but a cycle."You start out as a band and you just want to play music and have fun, but then you start trying to do everything yourself and it's no longer about having fun and music anymore," he explains.

The band then faces two choices, according to Longo."You can just end it or go back to where you started," he says."Seems like that is where we are right now."

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