By Jacob Katel
By Laurie Charles
By Nate "Igor" Smith
By Abel Folgar
By Kat Bein
By Jacob Katel
Even that may not be enough. Sabatella is one of South Florida's busiest musicians these days, working double duty as bassist in Diane Ward's band while he gets his own group off the ground. Add in the 35 hours per week he puts in at the obligatory day job, and Sabatella faces tough choices about how to parcel out his time. "Pretty much every night I'll come home and either make a quick dinner or grab a bite somewhere and then go to rehearsal or a show or a meeting or go make flyers or do something," he says. "But there's not enough time for everything, so I tend to overlook sleep as the one thing that I don't fit in."
On the surface, the back-breaking schedule doesn't make sense: The gig with Ward would be enough for most musicians. Anyone who's heard Ward's band knows she's destined for greatness; Sabatella's fluid bass playing and smooth vocal harmonies play an important role in that.
But Sabatella isn't just any musician. Having established his rep as co-founder, bassist, and part-time frontman of Broken Spectacles (he garnered a South Florida Rock Award as best bassist), Sabatella has emerged as one of the scene's most promising talents -- a skilled musician (he also plays guitar and drums) with a fistful of songs good enough to nab him a spot in the recent ASCAP showcase in Miami Beach. And besides, Sabatella's latest project isn't just any band.
The story begins early last year, as Broken Spectacles was on its last legs after a six-year roller-coaster ride through the South Florida music world. "When we started the band it was funny," recalls Sabatella. "We were 18, 19, thinking, yeah, we're gonna be on MTV by the time we're 20, 21."
The Broken Spectacles were brilliant and often challenging. And yet, even though the Specs were highly acclaimed, they never quite found their audience. "The big thing is, there were three songwriters and three singers," states Sabatella, referring to fellow bandmates Ed Hale and Dave Rubenstein, both of whom played guitar and also handled lead vocals on selected songs. "It was very much like three solo projects going on. That was the fundamental problem, I guess. We spent all the years telling people, 'Don't worry, you'll catch on, you'll like it,' because we liked it."
But local audiences never seemed to grasp the concept of a band with three strong personalities, and by the end of 1993 Sabatella had begun performing solo acoustic shows. "I loved the band," he relates, "but it just seemed a little bit easier to communicate when I was doing my own material."
Sabatella's new group was formed piecemeal, almost haphazardly, and members only recently settled on a name: Sabatella. "We spent some time talking about names, and those were actually some very funny sessions," says the band's namesake. "It was actually someone else who said, 'How about just Sabatella?' And pretty much everyone else instantly said, 'Yeah, I could live with that.'"
Matt Sabatella was first joined by keyboardist Lee Frank, known locally for having collaborated with guitarist extraordinaire Joel Schantz on the 1993 Bad Karma release My Only Problem. Frank and Sabatella played as a duo for several months and met up with singer-songwriter Brian Franklin. Franklin, a former member of the boogie-grunge band Mr. Tasty and the Bread Healers who had been cultivating a solo career, joined the band as lead guitarist in May.
The three continued with acoustic performances; when an electric lineup was needed, Sabatella switched to bass and Ari Schantz (Joel's brother) helped out on drums. The final pieces of Sabatella fell into place last fall, when Franklin recruited bassist David Chaskes, who brought along his long-time friend, drummer Jordan Steele Lash.
"We came together to support Matt," jokes Chaskes. "It kind of happened by accident," adds Frank. Sabatella has come to realize that the full-band backing enhances the power of his songs. "When I started playing the solo shows, I loved the freedom," he says. "I was so psyched to be up there without a band. It just felt so good to be there by myself."
Then Sabatella saw a videotape of one of his shows. "I'm watching it and I'm like, 'Oh, is that all it is? It's just a guitar?' Because I guess I'm up there singing and playing, and I'm hearing the whole band in my head, and so I'm thinking that a whole lot more music is happening than actually is."
Despite the band's relative newness to the scene, Sabatella has developed a strong following based on performances that leave listeners groping for adjectives to describe what they've just heard. In terms of material, the band is all over the musical map: Pensive acoustic-centered ballads like "Memory Coast" and "Butterfly" mix with grittier numbers such as the bluesy "Rain on You," which is punctuated by a vicious, extended solo by Franklin. "Capture" springs from the same well as "Rain," but takes on a slightly jazzier feel thanks to Frank's smooth organ work. The anthemic "Uniform," which has emerged as a crowd favorite, is a straight-ahead rocker.