Reviews

The Supper Club, New York City, December 2, 1996

Mazzy Star Lulls New York - Supper Club show is "intensely unintense"
by Marni Davis - Allstar Magazine

On record, Mazzy Star is the perfect soundtrack for late-night depressives. When Hope Sandoval sings, enigmatically and lugubriously, lines like "I could possibly be fading," accompanied by gentle acoustic guitar strums and buried washes of distorted electric, lonely young women tend to gush romantic fantasies and revelations of heartbreak into their journals at 2 a.m. It's beautifully sad music for beautifully sad moments.

Unfortunately for Mazzy Star, such moods and moments are hard to recapture in a crowded rock club, such as at New York's Supper Club Sunday night (Dec. 1). Mazzy is a one- on- one thing-- their style necessitates intimacy; otherwise their slow, swirling, psychedelic country rock comes off as inert rather than languorous.

In fact, the band was so still, the stage so dark, and their music so slo-mo, that the crowd went bananas when the disco ball started spinning. They were obviously desperate for some-- any-- indication of life, and Mazzy wasn't providing. Co-songwriter/guitarist David Roback was practically a statue, and his playing was all unvaried, snooze-inducing riffery; Sandoval was the very picture of onstage discomfort in a sexy/frumpy cocktail dress, eyes closed or riveted on the floor, shoulders curled forward. Her hands were usually behind her back, fingers tangling around each other in a display of nervousness.

Still, they were somehow compelling, mesmerizing even-- intensely unintense. (Or is it the other way around?) Besides, their onstage presence (or lack thereof) worked quite well with their music. Mazzy on record sounds like an indie-country bar outfit, drugged and at a too-slow speed, fronted by a passionately disinterested ice-queen diva; visually, torpid is really their only option.