Locals Only: : ‘Ring’ Leader

While he performs and records with just acoustic guitar accompaniment, and his songs crucially rely on thoughtful lyrical content, singer/songwriter Maurice Mattei cringes at the thought of being considered a Folk singer. Given the clichéd implications of the term, he insists what he does is only Rock & Roll, albeit with an “Americana” bent that brushes up against Country and Blues.

“What I don’t like about Folk music is the whole idealized, Walden Pond mentality,” Mattei says. “There’s always been this ‘Kumbaya’ aspect of Folk … it’s a lie. That’s not the way the world is. I think Folk music just tends to be real innocuous when it becomes like that. And I don’t like political things in music unless it’s done really well. And the only way you can do it really well is if it’s a song like ‘Street Fighting Man.’ That to me is a really good political statement; ‘Blowin’ in the Wind’ is not a good political statement. It doesn’t do anything for me. The common idea of Folk … I just don’t like it.”

When it comes to releases, Maurice Mattei — who was born in Italy, and moved to Ohio with his family at the age of 5 — has one of the heftiest discographies of any artist in Cincinnati.

Starting in earnest with 1995’s Grandview CD, he has put out a consistent stream of musical offerings, including everything from cassettes and vinyl singles to a live DVD.

“It wasn’t a contrived notion to be prolific,” Mattei says. “It used to be a band would put out two albums a year. Now when an album comes out, it’s this huge production, it’s like a major motion picture. It wasn’t like that before … it was just a record.”

The latest addition to Mattei’s body of work is Ring of Smoke, which finds him at his songwriting pinnacle, retaining the “voyeuristic” quality of his best character-driven compositions, but also showcasing a stronger melodic sensibility. Also a noted photographer (and, as his “day job” in advertising, an illustrator), Mattei’s examination of the seedier side of the human condition in his songs is even more effective than his photographs exploring similar ground.

Mattei says putting himself into unusual situations for his photographic expeditions (he embeds himself in settings ranging from strip joints to socialite-soaked soirées) had a huge effect on his musical approach.

“My productivity starting getting better after I started shooting photographs and going out into situations that I wouldn’t have gone into before and gotten to know people I wouldn’t have known before,” he says.

“That really brought a change, not only in the subjects of my songs, but in the music itself. I think it got more rooted, because the subject matter was really true to life and the music started getting more into that Country/Blues genre a little bit. You can’t be doing Pop when you’re (writing about) certain things.”

An outside champion of Mattei’s music, AltRoots music magazine No Depression, has helped him sell CDs and get radio airplay globally. It’s the kind of attention that could be used for a springboard to a record deal, but Mattei (who also does all of his own artwork and other extracurricular work when necessary) seems weary of the process.

“I never wrote a song having the contrived idea of the salability of the song,” he says. “Not that I’m this pillar of ethical purity … I just don’t think in those terms. It would be a drag to do that. It would be like work … I already do that in advertising, for christsakes.”

While Cincinnati pops up consistently in his songs, Mattei professes a love/hate rapport with his adopted hometown. He’s even considering moving back to Italy. But he says there’s something alluringly unique about Greater Cincinnati’s underbelly, which he feels is more extreme than most would think, due to the area’s arch conservatism.

“When I used to photograph in clubs or at parties … there was no conservative nature to any of that!” he says. “In L.A. or New York, you expect that (sordid subculture) there. Here, you’ve got that puritan streak. It’s interesting to see that sabotaged or circumvented, revolted against. It’s like the old cliché of the Catholic high school girl.”

While he performs and records with just acoustic guitar accompaniment, and his songs crucially rely on thoughtful lyrical content, singer/songwriter Maurice Mattei cringes at the thought of being considered a Folk singer. Given the clichéd implications of the term, he insists what he does is only Rock & Roll, albeit with an “Americana” bent that brushes up against Country and Blues.

“What I don’t like about Folk music is the whole idealized, Walden Pond mentality,” Mattei says. “There’s always been this ‘Kumbaya’ aspect of Folk … it’s a lie. That’s not the way the world is. I think Folk music just tends to be real innocuous when it becomes like that. And I don’t like political things in music unless it’s done really well. And the only way you can do it really well is if it’s a song like ‘Street Fighting Man.’ That to me is a really good political statement; ‘Blowin’ in the Wind’ is not a good political statement. It doesn’t do anything for me. The common idea of Folk … I just don’t like it.”

When it comes to releases, Maurice Mattei — who was born in Italy, and moved to Ohio with his family at the age of 5 — has one of the heftiest discographies of any artist in Cincinnati.

Starting in earnest with 1995’s Grandview CD, he has put out a consistent stream of musical offerings, including everything from cassettes and vinyl singles to a live DVD.

“It wasn’t a contrived notion to be prolific,” Mattei says. “It used to be a band would put out two albums a year. Now when an album comes out, it’s this huge production, it’s like a major motion picture. It wasn’t like that before … it was just a record.”

The latest addition to Mattei’s body of work is Ring of Smoke, which finds him at his songwriting pinnacle, retaining the “voyeuristic” quality of his best character-driven compositions, but also showcasing a stronger melodic sensibility. Also a noted photographer (and, as his “day job” in advertising, an illustrator), Mattei’s examination of the seedier side of the human condition in his songs is even more effective than his photographs exploring similar ground.

Mattei says putting himself into unusual situations for his photographic expeditions (he embeds himself in settings ranging from strip joints to socialite-soaked soirées) had a huge effect on his musical approach.

“My productivity starting getting better after I started shooting photographs and going out into situations that I wouldn’t have gone into before and gotten to know people I wouldn’t have known before,” he says.

“That really brought a change, not only in the subjects of my songs, but in the music itself. I think it got more rooted, because the subject matter was really true to life and the music started getting more into that Country/Blues genre a little bit. You can’t be doing Pop when you’re (writing about) certain things.”

An outside champion of Mattei’s music, AltRoots music magazine No Depression, has helped him sell CDs and get radio airplay globally. It’s the kind of attention that could be used for a springboard to a record deal, but Mattei (who also does all of his own artwork and other extracurricular work when necessary) seems weary of the process.

“I never wrote a song having the contrived idea of the salability of the song,” he says. “Not that I’m this pillar of ethical purity … I just don’t think in those terms. It would be a drag to do that. It would be like work … I already do that in advertising, for christsakes.”

While Cincinnati pops up consistently in his songs, Mattei professes a love/hate rapport with his adopted hometown. He’s even considering moving back to Italy. But he says there’s something alluringly unique about Greater Cincinnati’s underbelly, which he feels is more extreme than most would think, due to the area’s arch conservatism.

“When I used to photograph in clubs or at parties … there was no conservative nature to any of that!” he says. “In L.A. or New York, you expect that (sordid subculture) there. Here, you’ve got that puritan streak. It’s interesting to see that sabotaged or circumvented, revolted against. It’s like the old cliché of the Catholic high school girl.”

This article appears in May 12-18, 2004.