In a jam

Mike Duffy's "ordinary folk" folk

by John O'Neill

First things first, and the most adamant point (the only point, really) that Mike Duffy wants to make is that he isn't a folk singer. He's just a guy who happens to play acoustic guitar and sing songs. As he puts it, "I've written my share of sensitive, breathy folk songs and banged around in bands, now I write about `stuff.' Things that people can identify with."

Which brings us to exhibit A: . . . destined to be a rumor . . ., his debut seven-song CD that plumbs the depths of construction workers' souls, examines the random nature of how goldfish hump, and sings an almost-too-intricate ode to the chore of changing diapers. It's the work of a guy with a keen eye for detail, a steel trap sense of wit, and way too much time on his hands to sit around and think about things. Holed up in the Holden woods where he's played Mr. Mom for the past five years, Duffy indeed is a little too far gone to ever return to his folk roots. He percolates as he watches the clothes go around in the dryer, postulates while rubbing down the baby's bum with talc, formulates his musings after the kids are asleep from scraps of paper found around the house that contain the various phrases, rhymes, and ideas to assemble his observations. It's basic honesty wrapped tightly in a cellophane of humor.

Duffy is certainly a full-fledged singer/songwriter and -- despite what would surely draw his denial -- accidental creator of what we'll call "ordinary folk." Not to be confused with the soft-hearted, occasionally soft-headed, ramblings of many of his coffeehouse contemporaries, Duffy's songs have a wink-and-a-nudge wit that is near deadly in its effectiveness. Because it's not deeply personal (or, more accurately, personal topics that aren't too deep), we can grab hold of his music and enjoy a relatively carefree ride down the waterslide of domestic life.

"I don't want to write `personal' things; it's not me," says Duffy, who got his start as a fixture at the Old Vienna Kaffehaus and ended up managing it for two years before its demise. It was then that he got a taste of the best national and regional acoustic artists, thus hatching a plan for his own music.

"I was hooked on acoustic guitar, and having everyday access to it blew me away," says Duffy of his time at the OV. "I listened to a lot of music and it's beautiful stuff that all sounds the same. I wanted to be different."

Duffy tossed out all his original lyrics, writing new ones that reflected his new lifestyle as a homemaker. Cutting the disc with help from longtime live partner Kenny Dennis, at Tremolo Lounge with Roger LaVallee (still our pick as the top studio guy around), Duffy also called in help from area heavies Walter Crockett, Duncan Arsenault, Bob Killoran, and Chet Williamson. destined (a career assessment made by Tim Mason over a decade ago) is a love-song-free, name-dropping, mind-screw that examines kids, porto-potty graffiti, baby poop, the nature of being gay in relation to construction workers, and, among various other things, being told to get bent while attempting to secure an autograph from an athlete. It's a silly little world, and it's one we all know well.

"The whole [recording experience] was a blast, and working with Roger was great," Duffy recalls. "It was intimidating to have [Crockett, Killoran, and Williamson] in the room. They settled me down and were totally prepared. They got it on the second take, and it was better than I could have imagined. I was pinching myself on the way home."

Duffy gets back to the acoustic circuit with a headlining gig this Saturday at the Green Rooster Coffeehouse. And even though he's been performing nearly 20 years, the post-Vienna scene finds him starting at square-one again.

"The scene has changed, places I used to play have changed formats or have new booking agents. So you gotta do the open mic thing again. I'm just trying to get to more places throughout New England as an opener -- get my foot in the door. I've had people call me, which is really nice.

"Even having a CD to offer is different for me," he chuckles. "I sold my second one last Saturday night, so that's two in a row! I'm just trying to maintain my rumor status."

Local Buzz

It's taken a while, but the second disc from local metaloids Rawhead Rex is finally ready for release. Rebirth (Cooked Cranium) is multimedia enhanced, which means that besides the usual songs, if you pop the disc in your PC, you'll get video bits, interviews, in-studio footage, a Web site, and, best of all, neat games. Rebirth is also the first product from Erick "Red" Godin's CD replication house, EG<g> Pblshng. Maybe when business picks up he'll be able to afford some more vowels. This Friday also marks the long-anticipated kickoff of Godin's Lucky Dog Music Hall. And while there won't be any music per say, it is a chance to go down, grab a drink, and congratulate the new ownership on doing such a great job of transforming the old Cove. The Jay Tyer Quartet are headed into the studio next week to work on material for an upcoming CD. In a move to make themselves more road-ready, Little Big Wheel and drummer Ed Scholz have parted ways. Scholz, one of the nicest guys on the scene, will leave the group after their March 6th Commerical Street gig to assume a mortgage and a sensible career. That gig also marks the triumphant return of the mind-numbing Winterboy.