Milan Meserich

Yes My Name Is Milan

Milan Meserich is an integral member and popster of THE BLUE MOCKINGBIRDS. He is a singer, master drummer and rhythm guitarist. Milan studied music at the Prestigious Berklee School of Music. Tired of the traditional boundaries imposed on the curriculum, Milan rebelled, left Berklee, and set upon the road. After playing many stints with artists such as Peter Wolfe and former members of Icicle Works, and the Spin Doctors, Milan moved to New York City aspiring to find a band with similar musical tastes and the desire to make music first, be a star later! After hanging out at the local English pub, the Parlour, and two too many pints, Ted and Milan first broached the subject of playing together. “When we heard this bloke laying down the salsa grooves on the drums and then go on endlessly about how great Ringo played on ‘She Loves You’ during the Beatles’ concerts, we knew he was OUR drummer,” Monty recalls. Who says a couple of pints can’t solve your problems! Milan states: “Hey, Mr. Boom-Boom Skinny Guitarist: ‘Summer Wind’ on five! You’re done! Next!”

Yes my name is, "MILAN", and I play the drums. Actually I would like to think its more than that. I play the guitar, drums, vocals and I’m a songwriter. In the old days, it was the drum kit and myself taking a lot of shit from people. Do this and do that, seems like it never stopped. So where did this all begin? Who raised me? My mother raised one brother, one sister and me. We called her Mum, that sort of became her name and she was full of compassion. She was a single mother. My father would rather be on his own than deal with the reality of being a parent so I never knew him. I don’t even know if he had a sense of humor or if he could even see with both eyes.

Unlike the Masons wild and crazy and ever astounding illustrious beginnings as it were, I was a simple man from humble surroundings? No great historical significance really, just a few French explorers trading with Indians. No real drama there, and quite a few breweries thanks to the Germans. Situated right next to Lake Michigan but I hardly doubt we even qualify as provincial. The glaciers that were there even got out though they left a wonderful body of fresh water that would be my comfort and solace in many trying times.

My Yorkshire counterparts give you the great nation of England with all its Kings and Queens, lessons hard learned of a once powerful empire and a beautiful history. I give you BEER, the legend of Paul Bunyan – it’s always a legend isn’t it. And Gene Wilder who could have been a great king or queen. I also give you Father Groppi, a catholic
Priest from the 60’s and 70’s who took a stance and became one of the most widely known civil rights activists. We were called by the national media, "The Selma of The North." In light of all this he alienated himself from much of the society that once accepted him. I remember my mother was a friend of his and stood by all his decisions, however extreme. I had a few conversations with him as a child. All I knew was that he was my mums friend and that John Lennon was a fan of his. Yes, all this in a small town. So here is a chunk of my childhood.

I was born in MILWAUKEE, the state of WISCONSIN, and I saw with both eyes so I knew I had to get out, even at an early age. I still remember my second grade school year; it’s like an episode from WONDER YEARS. I was sneaking around on my knees during an educational film or something and the lights were out so I took my chances like a commando. I was crawling in the dark in my Jackson 5 outfit to tell all the kids that the BEATLES were going to be on the Ed Sullivan Show [re- runs of course]. In the middle of one of my briefings I was caught and the house lights came on – just like after a concert so I know it well. My schoolteacher knocked me over the head with a stack of books so hard that I saw stars. I can still see the stars. For my disobedience I was removed from that classroom and put in a special program for kids of academic excellence. I was given the green light to explore all things that interested me in an academic environment. Spending many hours in the library and eventually working there after school gave me the opportunity and privilege to take control of the place. The whole place to myself. I would dream about a musical career and traveling to all the places I saw in the books I was reading. The kids in the class were all so normal. They couldn’timagine anything different in their lives. They thought I was insane for imaging myself in a life of as a successful artist in any form. I suppose I would say that you have to be insane to think about taking on such a task. It was an early indicator that I didn’t belong in such a peculiar place. I was dazed and never had the nerve to tell my mother until many years later.

In my Father’s absence, my grandfather took upon himself to keep me in check.
My grandfather was a man who was always impeccably dressed and you just didn’t cross him – end of story. He looked after me throughout my childhood. I seem to remember one evening after dinner, I must have been three years of age, we were watching television. Lawrence Welk was on and my grandfather was in his little groove with the show and I saw a drummer taking a solo. I went crazy watching it. I would say it was my real first MOMENT. Not long after, “A HARD DAYS NIGHT”, came on television and the whole thing made sense. I’m not sure what kind of sense but it wasn’t incense.

I always called him Gramps; he didn’t seem to mind at all. There was so much snow that fell in those days that I would have to shovel and shovel and shovel up to three times a day. During heavy snowfalls I would shovel before I went to bed to try and lighten the load. I worked so hard knowing that my grandfather would show up in his Cadillac and expect it to be all shoveled including the whole street so he could park his car. No thanks to my brother who was a year older. He was too lazy to even considering lending a hand, so I shoveled without him every time.

I thought of myself an unusual kid. I had a love for reading, music, and sports. In my neighborhood everyone was more interested in acting like a thug. I couldn’t trust anyone except my friend Tommy B. He was under tremendous pressure because his mother worked in the public school system. I always tried to help him keep his grades up. He comes to mind once in a while, I would tell him how I was going to get out of town and find my musical adventure somewhere else in the world. On the weekend I would read as many books as I could carry and I would play basketball and baseball depending on what the game of choice was. I could play very well or at least I was a competitor. During the game I’d be dreaming that I was in another place and I was a drummer.

My mother told me I had to buy my own drum kit. It seems like it took forever to save for the kit. She believed that if I paid for them on my own I would appreciate them for the rest of my life and learn the value of a dollar. Plain and simple she just didn’t have the money, drums were expensive. I sold newspapers, worked summer jobs for a few years before I was able to buy them.

I joined my first band when I was in the ninth grade. We were a loud band. We had a few good ideas but we weren’t lacking in attitude. We had our debut and reunion tour all in one-year playing for ten people.

I ventured into other musical territories without the benefit of lessons. My lessons were the old fashion – watch and learn. I would see drummers from all styles of music. There was a huge summer music festival that I could go to every year and for the whole day you could see local and world famous drummers. Usually I went alone so I could look for the bands that I wanted to see, sort out the times, and try to get a good seat. I spent the rest of the time trying to get beer and avoid getting into fights, there was always some gang roaming around looking to roll people.

By the late 70’s all the musical tastes of my friends were far from anything that I could really get into. I was tolerant and learned to deal with the music and play the music for that matter. My mother was hip, she turned me on to the rock and roll that was pre-Beatle. It was all the black artists that I have heard of but never actually had the chance to sit and really listen to. She also gave me an appreciation for ethnic music, speaking at least six languages was a huge part of all that. She grew up in the surroundings of the bar business. I was only in the bar as a child a few times, she kept us away from all of that- what a shame. During the 60’s the bar was sold and my grandparents ended in divorce.

My grandfather found another woman and my grandmother found another bottle. Seeing people divorced and not having a whole family made sense to me, the amount of Taverns as they called them back then were in such heavy abundance I wonder if they attributed to all of problems.

High school was a problem, I couldn’t always get up on time, I was always playing late into the early hours of the morning. All or any promise of academic excellence went down the drain very quickly. I had a few teachers who understood what I was doing so they cut me some slack. To help further the cause I took a part time job for credits which got me on the streets of downtown where I was free. To see the sun and regular working people, not dysfunctional, whacked out high school kids on drugs gave me a special release. This saved me and got my head back on track. I could see the lakefront and it gave me comfort knowing that there is a great big world out there and I was going to be a part of it.

I attended the Conservatory of Music for one year, studying jazz, classical, and history. The faculty and students made for a memorable year. I met the Heath Brothers, Stanley Jordan, his first tour to be exact and he played Eleanor Rigby. It was something to see. He took my phone number for some reason. I also met Max Roach, Buddy Rich, and the amazing Dizzy Gillespie. Some of the senior students played with him and for some reason I went up when he asked for an assistant. I made a few funny comments and he had his arm around me and couldn’t stop laughing. He told me I had talent. He said show business isn’t just playing your ass off you must be able to reach people aside from your instrument.

I was also a part- time student at Marquette University. The syllabus was my only enemy, I couldn’t keep up with the work and the results were less than stellar. I’m still regretting the lack of my work ethic at such a great institution. Well, for once, the year went fast and I was off to Boston, this was my big escape. I was planning this for many years as a child. For some reason I didn’t get to New York just yet, Boston was the way to go at this time.

Nothing is all what it seems. Berklee was not the school that I had hope for.

I was just beginning to study the piano. Practice was always on my mind. I wanted to retain what I learned the previous year. The school told me I was a drummer not a piano major so there would be limitations on the availability of a piano. I was already feeling a cold sense of reality compliments of a bigger city.

But here I met my one true friend, Jeff, who would be a mentor and an encouraging musical force. Like having a brother but you don’t fight as much. We eventually left school and began performing with a band and as a duo all over New England and New York for so many years. Always in contention for a record deal, making friends in the business and ever persistent. The record deal never came.

After an extensive period of time we did manage to become a full time duo and had some radio success in New England. I remember that was some gratification. Boston lost our interest and I recall doing our last gig and I said thank you and goodbye, and I meant it. We left by the time the sun was up and came down to New York, which is still my home. Jeff eventually couldn’t do it anymore and he left. I was understanding but really hurt and felt alone again for the first time since I was a child. As funny as it sounds it was like a divorce just trying to remember what belonged to whom, and where was I going to go. The horror’s of a roommate weren’t thrilling either, but I got it together and I’m still blue but I’m a Mockingbird.

I spent the last few years making demos with bands, working out of small studios doing low budget recordings and making friends in the business. I did three records with a new age Celtic rock band, released independently. During all this I was out having a few pints of Guinness and I ran into Ted. I believe we had mutual friends and a great like of the old rock and roll, American jazz, and actually The Beatles. Now that is some can of worms.
Several months later after many social pints and conversations about music, art, literature or comics, I don’t remember, he asked me to play a show with the band. A few years later and a few thousand pints later we are THE BLUE MOCKINGBIRDS. A fun little band not looking for more gigs but looking for any late night pub that serves till 7:00 am.