Marc McElroy talks about the send-off gig, vodka, Schlitz and his plans for Russia 

Rock ’n’ roll years are like dog years. That’s why it’s so impressive that Elroy has stayed together for five years, and with all the same members no less (that’s 35 dog years for you arithmetically challenged). Frontman Marc McElroy’s smart pop, rock and Americana songs were a perfect match for the lineup of drummer Adam Doiron, bassist Brian Coleman and guitarist Charlie Kickham. Take a smidge of The Band, some Rolling Stones, and more than a dash of Beatles and you’ve got an idea of the fine music that’s been drifting out of local clubs regularly through the years. After their Press Room show on Saturday, Dec. 30, though, all we’ll have left to look forward to is the reunion tour. Elroy’s rich guitar tones and keyboard swells will live on via two full length CDs and five EPs, but the band is packing it in.

McElroy is a familiar face and name around town. Between his part time work at Gary’s Guitars, upright bass and Hammond organ sideman work with many other musicians in Portsmouth, recording support at his Imaginary Cat Studio in Eliot and of course through Elroy, he’s a bit of a staple in these parts. Next month though, he’ll be a familiar face in Moscow, as he’s heading to Russia to teach English for five months. He’s going to miss his trusty Hammond organ, and his good friends in Elroy, but moss doesn’t grow on a rolling stone, or on Marc.

You’re heading to Russia for five months and your longtime band is breaking up. You’ve traveled a lot before, so why break up the band?

The band has been together for five years, and we only ever had one bad gig, on a weekday night, so that’s a good run, so it’s called quitting while you’re ahead. Five years with no lineup changes is actually like two lifetimes for a band. And even though it’s fun, if we kept doing the same thing for five more years, it would be just more of the same. I like growth and adventure. It’s like if you were still in high school now, it wouldn’t be “the best years of your life,” it would be a real friggin’ drag. I want to look back at Elroy and only be proud, and only have good memories. I never want it do be a drag, so we’re quitting on a high note, I don’t want to do it until it’s not fun anymore. We’re still great friends, so we may play together in some ways in the future, but it won’t be as Elroy.
 
We know you can’t keep your hands off the bazillion instruments you play, so what’s next for you musically? Or are you going to take a break for a while?

Musically, (I’ll be up to) more than ever. I’m looking forward to retiring some songs, writing new and different songs, finding new directions. If I do say so myself, Elroy is a great guitar-rock band, but there’s more to life, and more to music. I’m considering quitting playing screaming guitar, too, to focus on organ and piano, or acoustic instruments.

How did Elroy come into being? How did you meet each member?

I started it. The three other members I’d known for a long time. Adam (Doiron, drums) and Charlie (Kickham, guitar) I met in college, played some with them in college, but for years they were (just) my friends and not my musical friends, so about 10 years after we met, I decided I should play with friends and not random people. Brian (Coleman, bass) I met working with The Zeftrons. I loved the fact he played almost nothing on bass, and that we had to find a bass player who was 15 years older than us just to find someone who wasn’t a busy bass player. Modern bass playing is usually too damn busy. Most importantly, the band members were chosen because of their friendship as well as their skill.

Was there ever a guiding philosophy behind the band, musically or otherwise?

Make a band from friends that you get along well with, and make the music, and every gig, the goal and the reward. Most bands spend their time trying to get signed, or “pay their dues.” We’ve been in it for the fun, and to make music we like. There was no “band fund”—everyone got paid an equal share after every gig—no shared gear to maintain, no shitty van to break down, and we never took no-money gigs in Boston for exposure. Except once. Exposure kills Eskimos, you know. It was always simple and easy, show up and rock. I’d rather play at the Blue Mermaid for 12-20 of the best people I know on this earth, than to play a Landsdown Street bar full of rock-heads.
 
Are you going to keep your busy project studio, Imaginary Cat, still rocking when you get back?

Yeah, even rocking it on the road. I guess Imaginary Cat is wherever I am. I plan to take along some recording gear, Pro Tools, and work from the roadl. I’ll come back with something I’m sure. Anyone want some incredible Eastern European orchestra playing on their CD, let me know, of if anyone needs a Balalaika track. Of course we still have the best Eastern European accordion guy here (“the Shredder,” Gary Sredzienski). Of course, the old Russian and Soviet recording gear is some great stuff, Oktava and Lomo mikes… maybe I’ll start Imaginary Cat East.

How much vodka do you think you can drink?

I think I can drink a little more than I can actually drink, which is always the case, isn’t it? By the way, Stolichnaya is crap, it’s the Schlitz of Russian vodka, they’ve got a lot of great vodkas there now. Back in the day I could put away a 500 ml bottle by myself and start on another one. I’m a bit out of practice now.

Any favorite Elroy anecdotes to share? Best/worst gig? Most random experience?

There are a couple legendary ones. I wrote a few down and put them on the Web site (www.elroymusic.com). There are literally too many, it’s always an adventure. OK, here’s one, we showed up in Lowell for a gig that we thought was with two other bands, and they double-booked three other bands. Six bands showed up. So we all agreed to play about 20 minutes. In typical Massachusetts fashion, no one let anyone use each other’s gear, and everyone argued over who would be the “headliner,” that is to say who would not be the headliner, because with five other bands playing before you, someone was bound to scare everyone else away before you got on. But as always, we laughed our way through it. Even the bad gigs were fun.

Do they have Hammond organs in Russia, and will you survive if they don’t have one kicking around?

I’ll miss my Hammond the most. I mean, I can call friends on the phone, but you can’t call your Hammond. I think I want to be buried in my Hammond organ, just take out the tone generator and stuff me in there. They do have some cool organs there, but it’s not the same, more like Lawery and Vox.

How did you become interested in Russia, the language and culture?

I started taking Russian my first year in college. It’s because I didn’t know any better and placed too well on the placement test for French, the foreign language I knew best at the time. So I couldn’t get credit for taking anything less than third year French in my freshman year. So I started a new language, picked Russian because it was unusual. But later it all came together and because I studied 20th century European history, and the Russians had quite an impact in that, so it became my specialty.

Saturday, Dec. 30, is the final show at The Press Room. How are you feeling about it all? Bittersweet? Relieved? Sad?

It’s gonna be the best gig ever. We have so many friends coming by, to watch and join in, it’s gonna be a real celebration, it’s gonna be like the last scene in “It’s A Wonderful Life,” at least, I hope. You remember that movie, right? You know... “Zuzu’s petals.” It will be a little sad, but sometimes change is. That’s life.

How about the show itself - can we expect any surprises? You know, pyrotechnics, extended drum solos and the like?

No pyrotechnics, that’s an old building. But we’ve got countless guests, as well as our usual extras, like Tom Coletta (vocals) and Chris Decato (organ), Michael Landgarten, the McDonough Band, and tons more. There’s even a rumor—that I’m spreading—that the other Beatle-loving band from Maine will wrap up their gig across town and run over to join in some Beatles songs. That’s just a rumor though, because officially they’ve got their own gig somewhere in Portsmouth that night.

So, you’re like, one of like four Americana groups in the area and now you’re hanging the others out to dry. Another rootsy ally bites the dust. Thanks “pal.”

Just giving everyone more breathing room. Anyway, maybe I’ll come back Americanier! And we can have an Americani-off! I’d be more sad that this was the end, if I wasn’t sure it’s the beginning of something else.

How many “clever” drunken “Jetsons” jokes has the band had to endure at shows through the years?

Foster’s once made a Jetsons reference to us in a headline, and wrote: “Space Aged Spunk.” Having spent some time in the UK and Ireland, that struck me as odd, if you don’t know what I’m talking about search for “spunk” on the Internet. Here’s the truth: We actually named ourselves after the kid on “The Jetsons,” that’s the funny part. We were thinking of a band names that were TV characters, and there was Dr. Bombay (“Bewitched”), Kinchlow (“Hogan’s Heroes”), and someone said Elroy from “The Jetsons.” And everyone said, “yeah.” And I said, “Wait! Elroy is part of my last name, Mc ... Elroy... people will think I named it after me.” And everyone said, “Huh? Don’t worry about it, no one’s gonna get that, don’t worry.” Since then people have been calling me Elroy. I was even walking down Columbus Street in midtown Manhattan one day and out of the blue someone recognized me and called me Elroy. I was so struck by my brief and only rock star moment, I forgot to say, “My name is not Elroy, jack-ass!”

You are coming back, right?

I’ve left here so many damn times, I can’t imagine not coming back. I mean I’ve left like 20 times. I’ve been leaving here all my life, since I was 18. So chances are, “We’ll meet again... don’t know where... don’t know when....”