Michael Marshall: Press

Before Jaheim, Keith Sweat, or Usher, there was Mike Marshall. R&B and rap were still largely segregated territories in 1985, when Marshall and Berkeley High classmate Marcus Thompson formed Timex Social Club, a harbinger of the urban soul revolution to come. The duo unleashed two international hits with "Rumors" and "Thinking About You" -- both charted in Billboard (the former hit #1 R&B and #8 Pop), and Marshall soon found himself playing thirty-thousand-seat arenas on Run-DMC's groundbreaking "Raising Hell" tour.

Stardom seemed assured for the soft-spoken, golden-voiced teenager. But a combination of industry playa-hating, bad business, and Marshall's own personal demons denied him the opportunity he so richly deserved; though his pioneering urban crossover style enjoyed huge success, he seemed destined to be a forgotten man in the annals of Bay Area music history. Miraculously, after sinking into a swamp of depression, addiction, and self-destruction, he has rebounded, regrouped, and rediscovered himself. And with the release of his first solo album Love, Lies, and Life (twenty years after he first burst onto the scene), Marshall's redemption is at hand.
Arriving at Oakland's Jahva House dressed in head-to-toe Raiders gear, Marshall is cheery and chipper, his trademark wide smile and still-boyish face both very much in evidence, though that face bears the well-etched lines suggesting his struggle to reclaim both his soul and his rightful place in soul music.
"I've been waiting twenty years to do this interview," he says -- it's the first time, he adds, that he's ever told the story of his rise, fall, and rebirth. He begins with the end: Timex Social Club fell apart after refusing to sign a ten-year contract with local music impresario Jay King, who went on to score a deal with Warner Bros. for Club Nouveau, largely on the strength of TSC's success. In a 1986 Billboard article, King acknowledged the similarities between the two groups, but insisted, "We were the music, production, and ideas behind" TSC, a claim Marshall vigorously denies to this day.
Marshall says he not only wrote Timex material, but was originally supposed to sing lead vocals on Club Nouveau's hits "Why You Treat Me So Bad" and "Jealousy." Even worse, though Marshall still owned the TSC name after the split, once wide-open industry doors slammed in his face; although he admits he has no factual proof, he speculates King blackballed him behind the scenes.
As the '90s dawned -- and TSC producers Foster & McElroy went on to gold and platinum success with groups like En Vogue and Tony Toni Tone -- Marshall developed a serious cocaine problem, eventually turned from powder to rock, and spiraled lower and lower, stung by both his industry horror story and his own abandonment issues with his father.
Still, Marshall never abandoned his dreams. He performed with a local gospel choir, and in 1991 joined Bay Area favorites the Mo'Fessionals (whose lineup included future members of the Braids, SoVoSó, and Zadell). After meeting local rap producer Tone Capone, Mike started doing session work at Capone's Berkeley studio, and in '95, the connection paid off royally when Marshall sang the hook to the Luniz' gold-selling single "I Got Five on It." The dark clouds seemed ready to part, but sadly, Marshall never capitalized -- few people recognized his voice on the infectious chorus. "I missed that opportunity," he says now, with obvious regret.
After relocating to Germany, Marshall spent six years as a songwriter for BMG, penning tunes for N'Sync and Backstreet Boys, but failing to ignite his own solo career. His addiction problems continued, and though hip-hop moguls Master P and P. Diddy both sampled TSC songs on multiplatinum albums, Marshall returned to the United States only to convert those royalty checks into ashes, residue, and acrid smoke in epic crack binges. "There were times when it was rough; I had no place to sleep," he remembers.
In 2001, Marshall came home to Berkeley, got into a recovery program, and met producer Nick Peace of indie-rap label Million Dollar Dream. He started singing hooks for the likes of Equipto and Andre Nickatina among others (he estimates he's appeared on more than 150 songs), reinventing himself as street-level crooner Mike Meezy, an older, wiser, more self-assured version of the naive kid who once half-rapped, half-sang It's funny how rumors get started.
"I'm just trying to let people know Mike Marshall got something new," he declares, still high (naturally) off his recent record release party at Blake's. "I feel real positive about Mike Meezy."
That positivity seeps effortlessly into Love, Lies, and Life, filled with honest testimonials and reflections as well as killer hooks and sweet melodies. "'What About Tomorrow'... 'An Eagle Flies'... 'Open Your Eyes'... those are all recovery songs," he says. "Sunshine," with ex-Mo'Fos Zoe Ellis and Caitlin Cornwall, also brims with optimism, as Marshall sings I put the sadness behind me, I'm movin' on.
Now clean, sober, and newly married (to a woman he first met twenty years ago), Marshall has finally taken control of his life -- and his music. Miraculously, he never lost his voice, a smooth tenor whose vibrato-laden falsetto doesn't go as high anymore, but still proves reminiscent of Marvin Gaye at times. "I still got it," he says. "Thank God for that."
An all-star roster of Bay Area rappers -- including Equipto, Z-Man, the Grouch, Eligh, Saafir, and E-40 -- make cameos on the album, adding a shiny contemporary patina to Marshall's classic soul man persona; most prominently, the 40-Water-infused "Tryin Na Leave wit Somethin'" has "club anthem" written all over it.
"You need some slumpers," Marshall explains, adding that, initially, he was a little reticent to come across "so -- how you say it? -- hyphy" on a track, though he's pleased with the results. Though some folks expected him to make more of a traditional R&B album, he says he identifies with the "disenfranchisement" of the Yay's indie hip-hoppers: "That's who showed me love." Meanwhile, the production (by Peace, Droop-E, TD Camp, Tone Capone, Sean T., and his old TSC mate McElroy) carries a unique, original sound that's a far cry from today's formulaic R&B and neo-soul.
Marshall now realizes he was at least partially responsible for his troubles. He's no longer holding himself back from success -- "If I had tried to do this at any other time," he says, "I would have failed." Next, he'll assemble a touring band and tackle a new fear: re-creating the album live, with its complex layers of vocal harmonies.
"It seems like I was always ahead of my time," concludes the man they call the Soul of the Bay. "Now things look really good." In other words, Mike Meezy has finally arrived -- and this time it's fa sheezy.
Editor's Note: The above article has been corrected. The original version misidentified Mike Marshall's cofounder in Timex Social Club as Marcus Roberts, a jazz musician.

Back to the future, Mike Marshall, aka Mike Meezy, brings hius new joint Love, Lies and Life to the music world. Most infamous for his platinum chorus work on the Luniz "I got 5 on it," and his role in the Timex Social Club, Mike's vocals are easily recognizable to rap and R&B fans worldwide.

Not following the standard pop blueprint, Mike definitely has a few joints that stray from the norm. "If I could get the chance," and "I don't know how to say it yet," have a cool bohemian feel, as each gets to the point right away.

Instinctively, Mr. Marshall knows what the public craves, so he has gathered a few talented artists to assist him on this project. Unfortunately, none of the guest appearances live up to the collaborations once rendered by Mike and the Luniz.

E-40 joins Mike on the bare and lackluster "Tryin na Leave wit' something." Obviously meant to be the club banger of the album, Mike's vocals come off, well, weird. E-40 did his thing, but the beat is so empty that it takes away from the rapper's eclectic style.

"So Young," featuring San Quinn, came out catchy and full of flavor. Radio and video should have no problem adapting to this jam.

Other raps by so-so artists end of as dusting the album with backpack styles and halfway attempts at rap love ballads.

Mike is definitely a grown man, and it shows throughout his production. Think of Mike as an older John Legend with a similar feel and overall message.

My Summary = Michael Marshall is a very talented artist, but he could have done without all of the guest appearances and attempts at making songs for the club. Hopefully next time he slows it down and we get to hear more of him alone. Why you wanna...playa hate on him?

Michael Marshall – The Voice of the Bay
In 1985, Michael Marshall was the lead singer for a loosely organized musical
collective known as the Timex Social Club. They were bound together simply;
they started with the limited ambition of creating a song or two for the types of
multicultural parties that they frequented. But in less than a year, they would
have a top-ten single and be loudly announcing the birth of a new musical form:
hip-hop soul. Neither Michael nor the other members had any way of knowing
that in less than two decades this sound would become far more than just the
sound of their parties, but sound of the planet, the soundtrack to everything from
fast food to vacation. And today, though Mary J. Blige and P. Diddy collect a
disproportionate share of the credit, it was years earlier that the form first came to
national prominence. This came with the release of the hit single Rumors and
was cemented during the summer of 1986 as the song and a nascent musical
form gained traction in the national consciousness.
Radio programmers were perplexed. It was urban and had an edge. But it wasnt
rap. The song charted into the top ten and gained momentum on radio.
Suddenly, the band was invited to tour with Run D.M.C. and L.L. Cool J. A
second single, Thinkin About You advanced the trend. Finally, after a hastily put
together tour and a long summer on the road, Mixed Up World would be the final
hit for Timex. The members of the collective were headed for an ugly divorce.
And legal wrangling left Michael in limbo. The band that had all but invented hip-
hop soul would be left out of its first mainstream successes. And the singer who
brought the harmonic structures and knack for countermelody made famous by
Marvin Gaye and Prince would be forced to wait it out as his music became the
soulful counterpoint to grunge in the early 1990s.

Not surprisingly to anyone who knew him then, Michael never stopped singing.
There were personal dramas and compulsions. There were moments of famous
indulgence. But he sang and recorded compulsively, and a library of demos from
this time document his continuous development as an artist. But it was an artistry
that was tempered by mismanagement and poor timing. Ultimately, it would be
an irony of considerable proportions that would bring him back to prominence.
In 1995, producer Tone Capone sampled the beat from Why You Treat Me So
Bad; the song had been a monster hit for the Timex derivative Club Nouveau and
a consistent source of ire for Michael, as it borrowed liberally from his own
Thinkin About You. But Tone had a plan for the beat, matching it to rapped
verses from Oakland rappers The Luniz and then pairing this product to Michaels
sung chorus. The result was arguably the most singularly memorable song in the
history of Bay Area hip-hop: I Got 5 on It. In a hip-hop epoch most remembered
for bi-coastal hostilities and tragedy, I Got 5 on It stands as one of the most
durable songs of the genre that didnt originate in either New York or Los
Angeles. Yet still, there was one fact that might be even more significant: the
songs form, rapped verses and sung chorus, were suddenly and profoundly on
the musical radar. Hip-hop soul had once again mutated, and its ZeligMike
Marshallwas again hugely responsible. Five years this musical structuresampled
beat, rapped verses, sung choruswould represent half of the top forty. For Mike it
was a victory, but yet another turning point, another bittersweet moment among a
litany.

Again he found himself on the outside looking in. The Luniz werefor all intents
and purposesa rap group. Mike was not a member. The group would go their
own course without him, performing their most popular song again and again
without its lead singer. If this irony bothered Michael, it never showed. As always,
he remained prolific, continuing to forge musical relationships throughout the Bay
Area and write songs. It was during this time that he joined forces with the
seminal Berkeley neo-soul band The MoFessionals. For more than two years,
Michael would play and record with them, bringing his soulful vocals and dense
harmonies to a band that fused hip-hop, soul, jazz, and funk into a roiling stew
that was decidedly ahead of its time. For a solid two years, The MoFessionals
reigned as one of the Bay Areas premier live shows. They were also most
certainly one of its best unsigned acts. But this pressure mounted. As the bands
popularity crested, they struggled mightily to complete Finally Over, their only
album. After numerous roadblocks, the album was released with minimal support
and tour plans were aborted. Neither a failure nor a success, it remains a worthy
testament to what could have been, a perfect goodbye letter to fans, a perfect
fuck you to disbelieving record company execs.

Crestfallen and needing a new challenge, Michael seized on an opportunity to
live and record in Nuremburg, Germany. In partnership with an expatriated
American producer, his vocals charted regularly in Europe, with the highlight
being his collaboration with rapper AK Swift on Light in Me. The song made it into
the top 15 on the German charts and afforded Michael the luxury of doing some
modest touring on the continent. As always, he was still advancing the platform
that he helped originate. But after several years, it became apparent that he was
chafing under the production qualities that European audiences demand. He
needed to return home. He needed the familiar. He needed the Bay.
Upon returning, he hit the studio hard. Almost immediately, he settled into a solid
working relationship with producer Nick Peace and his Million Dollar Dream label.
He sang on He Said She Said with rapper Andre Nickatina, a song from the
album Hells Kitchen. He also reunited with fellow Timex alumni, producers Denzil
Foster and Thomas McElroy, to write and record songs for En Vogues comeback
album, Sunflower. All You See and How Do I Get Over You featured his vocals
anddespite the albums middling sales figuresserve to remind listeners about one
of the areas signature talents. Not all of his efforts during these first years back
from Germany were hits. But the volume of work that he amassed is significant.
And so are the people he worked with.

This whos who now stretches on and on, name checking half of the Bay Area
and beyond. Keak da Sneak. San Quinn. Casual, from Hieroglyphics. E.A. Ski.
E-40. Suga Tee. 3XKrazy. Rankin Scroo. Turf Talk. And then the work in
Germany with Bootsy Collins. The set with Thelma Houston. The Weather Girls.
Michael has been all over the R&B and hip-hop map, mixing and matching,
innovating and re-creating.
But Michaels latest and most significant reinvention would drop in 2004 and
2005: the subtle transformation to solo artist. Now wielding the stage persona of
Mike Meszy, Marshall released two albums in less than a calendar year. First
was a collaborative effort with San Francisco-based rapper Equipto, entitled
K.I.M. Among the tracks on this album, Beautiful (The Family) and Keep Rising
show him in top form, building sticky vocal hooks with dense harmonic choruses
and dynamic ad libs. The second was his first solo album, Love, Lies and Life is
an overt reference to the title of Club Nouveaus Life, Love and Pain. Perhaps this
is emblematic of its final resolution. What was once stolen has now been
repatriated to its rightful owner. The songs and demo tapes of the last twenty
years, synthesized and released in a potent catharsis. To going there and
coming back. To your boy Mike Meszy. Fo sheezy.