From the San Francisco Examiner
Stage Review The 'Write' Stuff Marlowe's 'Song' sings in S.F. show. Bill Picture Staff Writer Published on Tuesday, March 23, 2004 How to Write a Song
In "How to Write a Song," Ira Marlowe's funny and inspiring one-man show, the Bay Area singer/songwriter recounts his lifelong struggle to make it as a working musician. Marlowe points out that, in the music business, as with most enterprises, talent affords few, if any, guarantees. To demonstrate his point, the Philly native gives the audience an eye-opening opportunity to tag along on a real-life series of potentially hope-quashing experiences to see just what aspiring crooners are up against. From his days belting out Jimmy Buffet covers for drunk, disinterested singles in suburban "fern bars" just to put food on the table to having his appeal (and talent) questioned by the jaded, seen-it-all record executives whose responsibility it has become to find pop music's "next big thing," Marlowe has experienced it all. But through the seemingly endless string of rejections, Marlowe manages to find an endearing humor in his relative inability to control his own career destiny. It appears that early on Marlowe realized that luck or "being in the right place at the right time" has as much to do with making it in the music business as does talent. So no matter how many doors were slammed in his face, no matter how many indignities he was forced to endure he picks himself up by the guitar strap and presses on, driven by a desire to share the songs in his head and in his heart with others. That's not to say that Marlowe hasn't tried to please the suits in the corner offices. No, he admits he's tried just about everything to impress them. He's been the passionate artist who refuses to pander to the fickle music-buying public's ever-changing tastes. On the flipside, he's also been the musician so hungry for some validation that he'd gladly sell his soul for even a small taste of mainstream success. Luckily, however, Marlowe had friends, namely, the voices inside his head, to keep him straight. On their own, none of these inner voices, which appear as alter egos on a video screen behind the stage, are of much help. One assures him he's on the right path, another warns him he's on the wrong path and yet another tries to persuade him to just blow the whole thing off and have a good time. But Marlowe eventually learns to pick wisely and choose from their conflicting advice and find some useful middle ground -- hopeful yet based in reality. Marlowe's monologue is punctuated with original songs so poignant and utterly straight from the heart that the audience gets to share every bit of Marlowe's frustration as he deals with these painful career (and life) setbacks. What's most impressive about Marlowe's songwriting (and the show in general) is his ability to lay heartache and disappointment out on the table and yet still inspire his audience to dream -- and dream big. His passion remains unscathed even as his worn edges become increasingly more frayed. By the end, we're assured that, while Marlowe has resigned himself to life on the outermost edge of pop, but he still hasn't given up his dream of someday making it. It's just that his definition of "success" no longer has a dollar sign in front it. |