"Shane Zack doesn't have a drug problem. He's dedicated to something else," is the diagnosis of one Zack's many friends, who showed up en masse at The Jumping Bean Acoustic Lounge last Saturday to support the official release of Zack's debut solo album. No stranger to the music world, Shane Zack has nevertheless managed to avoid the jaded cynicism and destructive addictions that haunt the cutthroat music business. The title of his album, Ignorance & Innocence, reflects some of the rare humility and optimism that allows Zack to weather the ups and downs of a music career. In spite of his vast experience as a musician, Zack is honest and contrite about all that he has yet to accomplish. His career began in college with the band Trifecta, led to a founding role in the Philly-based band Scarred Rose, and has now brought him to The Jumping Bean, located beneath Copabanana on 40th and Spruce, where Zack is the General Manager. In a business already fraught with risk, Zack has chosen to tie his personal artistic success to that of The Jumping Bean, a cafe that Zack wishes were more popular with the Penn crowd.
Though Zack has attempted to reach out to the college community, the regular clientele at The Jumping Bean still consists of people Zack's age, a few years removed from college life, but still young enough to appreciate new music, cheap beer, and nineties rock. Those who gathered to celebrate the CD launch reflected this demographic well: they were enthusiastic and supportive, and clearly committed to making Zack's debut a success, but were also the representatives of a generation gap that Zack has struggled to overcome. The narrow room, strewn with strings of small, white Christmas lights and a few of the colorful posters typical of dorm room decor, provided just enough space for a bar, stacks of CDs, and the clusters of college friends, ex-band members, and even Zack's mother. All had come to cheer as Zack told stories, thanked his supporters, and performed his set. Clad in a simple white tee-shirt and ripped, baggy jeans, Zack swayed his hips, threw his shaggy hair back, and poured his heart out in a collection of original songs mixed with covers of Filter, Social Distortion, and Led Zeppelin.
While Zack's music style may resonate more with those his own age, his ideals as a struggling artist are not far removed from those of many Penn musicians. Zack's fondness for his own college memories underlies his heartfelt desire to reach out to Penn students who may be looking for performance space and advice. So far he has been disappointed, and he is candid about his present inability to make The Jumping Bean the supportive, student-based community he had envisioned. "I think [the students] are afraid, but I can't blame them, really. If anything, I blame myself. Maybe I'm just too old."
Zack has tried a variety of methods to convince student bands to perform, even if it means losing money. "I'm a horrible business man," he confesses, "because I'm a musician. I'm a sucker for anyone musical." But Zack is forthright about the possibility that he may have to readjust his goals, "I can do a lot for this space," he says, "but I can't do it on my own." He urges any students who desire to be part of a laid-back musical communityas performers or as spectators-to come by, check out the space, and talk to him. Shane Zack understands the difficulties of the music business as well as anyone, so he also understands the importance of knowing people who will support you. If you let him, he could make The Jumping Bean as supportive for students as it is for him.
