LUCIDMEDIA

Samuel Markus: Music For A New Dawn

Written by Catherine Kustanczy Friday, 28 November 2008 15:07

“It happens,” he says, good-naturedly. He and his band had just come from playing a series of gigs in New York City, one being a loft party, which, he says, was probably the best of the lot. Markus has been creating a stir with the release of his debut album, New Dawn, a collection of twelve songs that document heartbreak, hope, and hymns for humanity. The album is shot-through with smart, insightful lyrics of a young man observing his world through the lens of burgeoning adulthood. If it sounds like a tall order for a 22-year-old, Markus shows no sign of wear, handling the mature subject matter with comfortable honesty. He doesn’t feel any sense of nervousness in exposing his vulnerabilities, either. When asked about whether he’s ever fearful toward the reception his songs may get from a new audience, the answer is a resounding no. “The most important lesson I’ve learned is to be okay with it,” he says, with a small, self-deprecating laugh, “to be okay with the show and how the songs are sounding, ‘cause I’m usually my own worst critic. I’m not worried about feedback from others, so much as myself.” Hailing from Montreal, Markus attended Idyllwild, the arts-focused high school in California. Though originally pursing studies in filmmaking, his first inklings toward music came when he was exposed to his roommate’s sonic noodlings.  “Music has always been a huge part of my films,” he explains in soft, measured tones, “I would write music all the time, to dictate where narrative went. I was always using it, but not playing it, though I knew to some extent what I wanted to do. My roomie in my last year of high school was playing and performing, and I was helping him write lyrics. It was then I decided I wanted to write my own songs.”

Attending college in New York City, Markus joined The Rosewood Thieves, a pseudo-psychedelic, folk-rock band whose work was used on the television programs Entourage and Grey’s Anatomy. He dropped out of college in his second year, realizing he wanted to pursue music full-time; around the same time, The Rosewood Thieves got signed to a record deal. The timing couldn’t have been more perfect. The band rented a run-down farmhouse in upstate New York, where they spent the next year, writing, composing, and behaving the way young twenty-somethings do with such creative license. Egos were a big part of that, though, and Markus found his voice was being drowned out amidst the chaos.

“I wasn’t really writing or anything,” he says haltingly, “it wasn’t easy for me. It was an intense experience.” Letting out a sigh, his dark eyes ringed with exhaustion, it’s clearly a time and place he isn’t fond of recollecting. “It wasn’t my record deal,” he adds, “I just went along with it, thinking, “This is my chance to get my music out there,” but putting myself in a situation where all my creative abilities were going to somebody else… by the end of it, I was so broken down. I knew that was it.” From there, Markus returned to his parents’ home in Santa Fe, New Mexico, and started writing songs –for and by him alone. He admits it was “really the first time” he’d done that.

“Writing before, in the band, it had a specific niche. We were trying to do very 60s-type stuff.” Writing on his own allowed him moments of pure emotional and spiritual honesty. “I thought, “F*** it, I’m just going to write what my heart says. So the first thing I put out is something where you hear that. It was emotional.” Having played the Los Angeles circuit of clubs regularly (including The Derby and House of Blues) really helped in “gaining my confidence to really do it and play it live” as a professional working musician, too.



But a reality of being a musician these days, no matter how big or small, is using the internet; online exposure has proven to be a big help in creating the buzz that’s been building around Markus, but it’s an outlet he has mixed feelings about. “I’m kind of on the fence about it,” he admitted, “we wouldn’t have been able to book the tour without it, yes, but on the other side, I’m not fully convinced it’s the end-all, be-all of getting music out there. It’s good for maximum exposure, yeah, but seeing music live, on the internet, is not the same as live-live.”

Filmmaking is something Markus is still interested in exploring too. He directed his first video, “Jitterbug,” a kinetic fusion of tour images and performance clips, set to the song’s infectious, hip-hop-meets-folk sound. And he’s planning on directing more –not just for himself, but for others, too. Film scoring is a logical extension of all this, and it’s something he wants to explore as well. So long as he doesn’t get put in a box, or have any label affixed to him, he’s happy; right now, it’s all about “not fitting into a niche.”

Which may explain the range of sounds one hears on New Dawn; “The Offering” has definite traces of Ron Sexsmith, while the radio-friendly single “Rosa” has a bouncy, Beatles-esque beat with touches of The White Stripes. “Miles Away” and the album’s title track both evoke the melodic pop of early Lennon-McCartney.

So how would Markus describe his sound?

“Emotive and cinematic and … interesting.” He smiles. “That’s what I want to go for.”