The making of a songwriter
"Wrote my first song at age sixteen while part of a short-lived band called the Bitter Souls," Rob says. "We played it once at a hootenanny emceed by San Francisco deejay Emperor Gene Nelson. After the event I listened eagerly to the radio only to hear the Emperor comment on the air, 'One of the bands even wrote its own song.' So much for instant fame."
Born and raised in an Italian-American neighborhood in San Francisco, Rob honed his first musical chops on the accordion at age six. As he grew older, and more smitten by "Mr. Tambourine Man" than by "Lady of Spain," Rob took to the guitar.
"My mom gave me a $25 guitar with a songbook as a Christmas present in 1964," he says. "I ripped out the chord chart, tossed the book, and began experimenting with basic progressions; I still experiment with basic chord groupings, tweaking a voicing here and there. Simplicity works for greats like Dylan, Petty, and Prine -- and I'm certainly not on their planet, much less in their league! It's not about complex or simple chords, it's about what you do with them. A melody can be -- and often should be -- simple because the music of the words themselves should carry the song."
While a student at the University of Notre Dame, Rob studied under noted poet John Matthias.
"My two years of work with John were tough, frustrating, rewarding times. I went into the poetry program a quasi-songwriter and came out a poetic songwriter. I guess that could be redundant, but sadly, for a long time in the 80s and 90s poetry was largely missing from popular music. The independent singer-songwriter has made at least an attempt -- and often a successful one -- to infuse pop music once again with the poetic. I thank John for convincing me never to compromise that."
Regarding his themes, Rob adds, “As a songwriter, I am serious about crafting a good composition -- good stories and vivid images are important; but my art is also about not taking life too seriously. I think it was Kurt Vonnegut who said, 'The situation is hopeless but not serious.' I like that. People can be unhappy or happy and, in either case, taking it all with a grain of salt is probably the healthiest way to go. That's why I'm always coming up with lyrics like 'You call me 'cause you know you can' or 'I'm feeling like an old sombrero / While you dance around me through this life.' I'm reworking an old song I wrote twenty years ago that starts, 'I wish I had someone I could talk to / I've alienated all my friends.' I think if you've lived long enough, been hurt and lonely enough, you realize that in matters of the heart, love is a little bit insane, and who better to write love songs than an inmate from the asylum?”