SOUND BITES
That thing he does: A chat with Mike ViolaSomewhere along the Maryland Turnpike, Candy Butchers frontman Mike Viola is running from an approaching hurricane and listening to cassettes in his car -- presumably to help take his mind off the fact that he's running from a hurricane.
"There's something about a cassette that's more satisfying than a CD," Viola says. "Also, I really don't like to purchase CDs. The fact that they don't wear out really bothers me. I like cassettes because they decay, and you can hear the decay." This affection for antique technology is fitting, because Viola makes giddy, old-fashioned pop music in the school of Fountains of Wayne -- he played with the band before it was called Fountains of Wayne and sang the vocals on "That Thing You Do.") His songs are the type that wouldn't be entirely out of place on a well-worn eight-track tape from 1977. The Candy Butchers' new album, "Hang on Mike," channels Elton John through Cheap Trick-style harmonies. It's also a remarkably honest album, with songs about Viola's late wife's battle with cancer and his ensuing sadness. A Stoughton native, Viola plays next week as part of the multi-act, musical free-for-all known as the Boston Pop Underground. We caught up with him as he drove north from the eye of the storm. Sound Bites: Was this a tough record to make? Mike Viola: It really wasn't difficult to do because I was feeling so bad. I was so depressed. It actually felt good to be writing something that I thought was worth writing. It was more of a catharsis. I arrived at this point of songwriting for a reason. I think I needed it for my health. Luckily, my band was really super supportive, without even saying anything. That's the way guys are; they don't really talk about feelings. How come you haven't crossed over into the mainstream pop charts in some gigantic way? Were you ready to beat up Fountains of Wayne when they hit the Top 40 before you? Those guys are friends of mine, and they're really good at what they do, and breaking the Top 40 was just a matter of time for them. For me, I don't really aspire to do that. That's actually a good comparison, because we used to hang out in the same bar, and I used to hang out with Adam [Schlesinger]. We were best friends back in Boston. I think the thrill and the gamble of breaking the Top 40 was really appealing to them. Whereas for me, it just never was appealing. I know I'm hemming and hawing, but I guess it's that I'd love to have success, but at what cost? I'm really happy artistically with what's going on. So you were a rock 'n' roll prodigy? There's three chords in rock 'n' roll. How hard is it to be a prodigy? I was a little kid performing. I was cute, androgynous, and it was the post-new-wave scene in Boston. Everyone was coked out of their brains, and there was this little androgynous kid up on stage, and they were like, "Oh my god, he's amazing." I even made records back then. When I was 13, I recorded a concept album called "Back to the Playground." It had songs like "Inside I'm a Man." After that experience, did you have the urge to hold up a video store?
What I'm doing is the equivalent, in some weird way, of holding up a video store. My song "Superkid" is about how messed up it all was. How sad it is in retrospect that my childhood was spent that way. I hadn't even hit puberty, and I was backstage with girls offering me cocaine. © Copyright 2004 Globe Newspaper Company.
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