Never too young to rock ’n’ roll
They were crammed in next to each other, sitting cross-legged on the foot of the Verdi Club stage on Sunday afternoon: Two hundred or so excited parents, friends and, most importantly, young rock musicians were gathered in sweatpants and sequins to hear Rock Band Land’s quarterly Big Show. I sat in the front row of assembled chairs and watched a 6-year-old cooler than I’ve ever been take a bite out of a cookie the size of his head.
Rock Band Land is a Mission District after-school program and summer camp for kids ages 4 through 14 to write, perform and record their own rock music. It’s run by two tireless San Francisco musicians, Brian Gorman and Marcus Stoesz. The business partners and best friends are kind of like magicians Penn and Teller — Gorman is the talker, the showman, the loud one. Stoesz is more mellow, more zen and quiet. Together with a small staff, Gorman and Stoesz guide hundreds of kids through forming their own rock bands. And they do it every six weeks.
Eight years ago, Gorman returned home from touring with his band and went back to teaching preschool. (Yes, he was a rock musician preschool teacher.) Gorman grew frustrated with the music they were playing the kids. He found it condescending. And so, it was from that aversion to condescending preschool music that Rock Band Land was born. “It’s the best thing I ever could have done with my life,” Gorman said.
“We encourage kids to sort of get crazy,” he explained. “As long as they follow our very, very simple rules, we will let them do pretty much whatever they want.”
And those simple rules are to have fun, be cool (respectful) and no potty words. Gorman and Stoesz have no problem with toilet talk per se. They just want their kids to push themselves past scatological humor. “There’s a certain point,” Gorman said, “where you exhaust the possibilities of poop.”
Sunday’s “Big Show” began at 12:30 p.m. with 200 or so people milling around the front door of the Verdi Club. As with anything involving kids, there was a very complex and scheduled check-in process. By the time I made it inside, the midday historic social club had been transformed into an underground rock venue, complete with beer and wine sales, a T-shirt booth and a spinning disco ball.
Most of the kids in attendance appeared to have been given free rein of their closets and costume drawers. They were in shorts, T-shirts, masks, capes, rhinestone face stickers, headdresses, swimsuits — and I was jealous. The freedom of Rock Band Land did not exist in Marin County’s parochial schools in the 1980s.
Not only did the children posses sartorial confidence, but most took the stage with ease and pride. Ten-yearold lead singer Oz Mitchell has long blond hair way past his shoulders and has been performing with Rock Band Land since he was 3. These days, the clarinet, piano and soccer player fronts George Washing Machine, a band he formed through Rock Band Land in 2015. “I know I want to be a singer, a performer,” Oz said. “I like the experience.” Standing in the back bar of the Verdi Club, Oz’s dad, Jason Mitchell, smiled. “It’s been defining for his personality,” he said of Oz’s involvement in Rock Band Land. “This is his crew, his people.”
Oz’s mom, Stacey Ransom, chimed in, “His tribe.”
Gorman pulled his long hair into a ponytail while he served as the host and ringmaster for the two-hour show. At one point, he had the audience pretend to barf on one another and then apologize, he retold stories developed by the young musicians as bands set up on stage, and he manned the drums on a number of songs. Stoesz played electric guitar from just offstage, calmly cracking up at the occasional goof.
Following each band’s set, the crowd thinned a little bit. After all, family and friends had videotaped the entirety of their musician’s performance. They had places to go, other progressive and thoughtful children’s activities to attend. But some stayed. Oz Mitchell stayed. “I want to hear the little kids sing,” Oz said as he brushed some perfect hair out of his face.
Dressed in an orange silk shirt, an orange blazer and orange sweatpants, Oz left me to talk with his parents and wandered back into the auditorium. He wanted to hang out with his people. He went to be with his tribe.
“As long as they follow our very, very simple rules, we will let them do pretty much whatever they want.”
Brian Gorman, co-founder, Rock Band Land