I’ve never been big on local bands. I know that’s an awful thing to say, because supporting local music is important and “right” sort of like supporting mom and pop stories is better than going to chains.
But in my experience, local bands usually suck. I also buy most of my music at Best Buy or through Amazon, so sue me.
I guess the appeal of following the local music scene is that amid all the crap you’ll occasionally find a diamond, and you’ll be able to say that you were there when they were nobody. But who has the time? The very thought of it depresses me.
It’s much easier for me to not follow local bands now that I have two children. It’s not as if I’m going to drag my 4 and 8-year-old girls to smoky bars to hear mediocre live music. And if we get a babysitter, nine times out of ten we’re seeing a movie. The other time we’re just getting dinner and enjoying the silence.
I write all of this as a lead-up to my admission that there is one local act I took to back in the day, and that was Nil Lara. He used to play clubs in Miami while I was in college and my future wife was a fan. So I accompanied her to a few of his shows (at places that probably no longer exist) and was very impressed.
Lara is a second-generation Cuban who spent his childhood in Venezuela, and his music blends those Latino influences with American pop music. His first, independent CD’s are chock full of infectious tunes every bit as good as the “professional” stuff I was listening to back then.
He signed with Capitol Records in 1996 and released his first official studio album, and the new arrangements and production lacked something that was present on the independent discs. For the first time I could understand those annoying people who say stuff like “R.E.M.’s Murmur is ok, but it pales in comparison to the unreleased EP of their early college material.”
Still, as those original versions have faded in my memory, the studio songs sound just peachy. And I hear Lara is still playing in Miami bars, so check him out the next time you’re in town.
Smile at everyone Oh to shine above the sun
Now I’m standing next to you I think I’ve changed my point of view
I’ve noticed you can tell
You’re fighting for my love
For my love, yes you’re fighting for my love
For my love, yes you’re fighting for my love
Many times I tried to talk to let you know someday I’d walk
In me you found a drug an addiction to my love
I could swear I let you know I tried one day to let you go
You fight me all along
Yes you’re fighting for my love
For my love, yes you’re fighting for my love
For my love, yes you’re fighting for my love
I know how it feels I’ve been burned one time before
I still feel the scars on my lips
When I touch when I love when I kiss
When I kiss
Now I’m calling back for you I figured out I’m missing you
You’re nowhere to be found oh I’ve asked and looked around
Seems you found a better fish I must confess I had a wish
To love you all along
But you’re fighting for my love
Fighting for my love
For my love, yes you’re fighting for my love
For my love, yes you’re fighting for my love
Fight me
Oh yes yes yes you’re wanting my love
You don’t know how you’re missing my love
Oh yes yes yes you’re needing my love
You don’t know how you’re fighting my love
Meet Me In Montauk 
I just love that the web has enabled these local bands to reach far more people than are willing to make the trek to a smoky club. You did feature a bunch of those YouTube artists a while ago on your blog. Maybe you could do something similar with local or unsigned bands and artists. They’re certainly easy enough to find.
As for this song, I like it. If an artist such as this one is able to make enough money making music to sustain his interest in making music, then the local engine is working as it should, I suppose. Not everyone can release a studio album, after all.
After having recently seen The Social Network and just having read Leonard Pitts’ column on “citizen journalists,” I’ve got lots of thoughts swirling around in my mind about the way ideas, music, lives are shared today – and how they will be shared in the future.
That might all be a bit more than you or Nil Lara was bargaining for, but there it is.
As I think about today’s SOTD and your comments, it occurs to me that my disinterest in local music may well be based on the fact that my locale is South Florida. I say this because, when we travel to places like New Orleans, Nashville, Austin and Memphis–places known for a vibrant local music scene, places from which great national artists honed their crafts in local clubs, we seek out that local experience every time. And more often than not, we are so pleasantly surprised at the quality of local music we find.
So why have I never sought out the local music scene in Miami? Although Miami may not be at the same level as the places I mentioned above, it has produced its fair share of known acts—Gloria Estefan and the Miami Sound Machine come to mind. 2 Live Crew? Vanilla Ice….Hmmm, maybe I should have stopped at Estefan! And maybe I’ve just hit on the problem– Miami doesn’t have a reputation for producing the kind of music I particularly love–acoustic, generally piano based, jazzy, bluesy stuff. If someone like a Ben Folds had come out of the Miami music scene, and I knew that more like him were playing at a particular local dive, I suspect that I would make a push to be there to get in on the discovery or bemoan the fact that the artist playing that night hasn’t made it even though he or she is more talented than X.
But your SOTD has me at least a bit intrigued that I may have missed out on something based on my perception of the Miami local sound. This guy’s sound is compelling, certainly better than 2 Live Crew and Vanilla Ice:) If there is more of this type of talent playing in the local bars, then I must admit that I am probably missing out.
I think Dana makes a great point. The local music scene here does not seem as inviting as it does in many of the cities he mentioned. Whether it’s less inviting because we wouldn’t fit in with the people flocking to those clubs or because we simply aren’t as interested in the type of music being performed, I’m not sure. Still, I believe if there were a Bluebird Cafe in the area, we would have found our way to it. Or at least I like to think we would have.
You’d think Miami would have more Latin-influenced musicians like Nil Lara, but it seems the most famous artists to emerge from there are rappers. The major exception being Gloria Estefan, of course.
As for venues, the names I remember from back in the day are Churchill’s and Tobacco Road.