Thursday, September 04, 2003
Copyright © Las Vegas Mercury

Music: Missundaztood

Manda and the Marbles dodge stereotypes one city at a time

By Mike Prevatt

Columbus, Ohio, doesn't strike most people as the place great bands are born. And despite its impressive population and proximity to other sizable burgs, you never hear much about the city's music scene. It's one of those towns where kids flee boredom by forming bands. And that's exactly what Manda Marble, leader and songwriter of power-pop act Manda and the Marbles, did in 1997. "There really isn't much to do here," says Marble, a day away from heading out on a rare extended, month-long tour. "I write about escapism a lot, so maybe that has something to do with it. We all went to school at Ohio State, and now we're still here. It's a great place to live, because there are lots of big cities close enough to drive to, for little tours. We [play in] Chicago, Nashville, Atlanta...and that's probably why we stay here."

It's certainly not to become stars. Though the band was earning praise in other cities for its New Wave, post-punk style and sugar-sweet tunes, it took a couple of years for their neighbors to come around. Their sound wasn't exactly mainstream in Columbus; as heard on their hook-heavy 2002 album, More Seduction, it's actually more indicative of the charged yet sunny vibe heard in many Southern California bands, from the girl groups of the '60s who played the Sunset Strip and the Go-Go's, to the melodic punk of Orange County and latter-era Hole.

"There are a lot of bands in Columbus, and I don't know we ever really fit in here," says Marble. "The bands are more in a college rock scene. I guess we can consider ourselves college rock, too, but jam rock is huge here, frat rock, that sort of thing. It took us awhile to get recognition."

Perhaps the crawl to home turf respect is rooted in the notion that some people don't know what to initially make of the act, filled out by guitarist Joe A. Damage and drummer Mark Slak. The songs are so simple and straightforward, you initially wonder if you're not getting some sort of joke. They're unabashedly retro, leaning very heavily on the same sort of punk-flavored '80s pop that indie rock bands like the Sounds, the Donnas and Weezer have popularized of late, but Manda and company were showcasing that sound before its recent resurgence. And, of course, the girlie pop and riot grrl name-calling is prevalent because a female rocker fronts the band. Marble is used to this phenomenon, if a little weary of it.

"Yeah, I see why it happens, but it is kind of irritating," she says. "We sometimes get compared to No Doubt, and I don't think we sound anything like that. I guess because there's a girl in the band. I don't think we're real girlie and bubblegum. There are two guys in my band and I'm sure they don't appreciate being called girlie!"

Similarly, sometimes those in the business try to pigeonhole Marble and the band to make them a clearer, more obvious sell. "Yeah, that happens a lot, and I try not to think about it," she says. "I just try to be a kid in the band, not focus on being a girl in the band. With promoters, they like to put us on an all-girl bill. And we don't always fit."

Regardless of the association, Marble seems to demystify herself often, usually by merely emphasizing her mission statement: I'm doing this for fun. That creed comes through the in her music loud and clear.

"If we ever got huge, I don't even know how I would handle it!" Marble says. "I think the first reason I did this was because people liked the songs I was writing. It would be cool for someone 20 years from now to get our album. To leave our trail, that would be success to me."