"Real New Yorkers" is a term I use to describe those who have New York City in their hearts. One does not have to be born here, to be a Real New Yorker. You just have to have that "NYC" groove in your heart.
That is, the New Yorker's ability to stay true to oneself. Real New Yorkers know who they are and what they want to achieve. And they pursue their dreams and make it work, somehow, in the face of the impossible odds that life puts before each of us.
In the realm of Real New Yorkers, there are some commonalities. One is the lifelong maker of music. New York is a great, global gumbo of a music scene. Here you will find men and women who love making music and refuse to let go of this passion.
One such Real New Yorker is Sal Cataldi, owner of the eponymous, award winning public relations agency. Since 1988, he has managed to juggle client service, child rearing, gigging and writing and recording music.
While wearing the always-demanding publicist/guerilla marketer hat, Cataldi has stayed devoted to music, producing two critically-acclaimed albums withThe Hari Karaoke Trio of Doom (an industrial/ambient jazz dub extravaganza co-led with drummer D. Hitchcock featuring Eno/Brand X bassist Percy Jones), another disc with the avant-jazz/Afro-funk band Collector, and three releases with Brooklyn's comedy rockers Frank's Museum. He's also played on sessions for names like the Lower East Side mainstays The Trachtenberg Family Slideshow Players and in the guitar orchestra of pioneering No Wave minimalist Rhys Chatham, on his "A Crimson Grail - Live at Lincoln Center" (Nonesuch Records, 2011).
Days ago, he released his first-ever solo effort, "Sketches of Spam," a 16-track, 69-minute, genre-surfing debut release from Spaghetti Eastern Music.
While he and his team orchestrated PR for the recent PEN/Faulkner Award for Fiction Gala, in the midst of the Charlie Hebdo fury earlier this year, Cataldi finalized his debut album, which evokes 70s Miles, Ennio Morricone, Fripp and Eno and includes a brilliantly re-imagined DADGAD version of The Beatles' "Ticket To Ride."
Cataldi's album is the ideal soundtrack for New York City life. For example, as you rush to your next early a.m. meeting, blast "New York Expats" and get pumped for your pitch. Or, play the yearning phrases of "Nap Dust" as you stare west on 23rd Street during the next Manhattanhenge sunset. Descend the putrid staircase of the 59th Street Lexington Express while listening to "Slakaz's Sambo Set" for an aural immersion into the city's grit. And, when your train inevitably stalls and the lights and a/c go dead, space out to the psychedelic trance modes of "The Camel."
The music tells you that Cataldi is a native New Yorker from Flushing who, like a lot of local kids here in the mid-60s, clipped Borden milk container coupons to exchange for nosebleed Mets tickets. While some kids are bitten by the sports bug, it was always music for Cataldi.
And, while most folks leave their dreams at some point, Cataldi's passion for music was actually woven more tightly into the fabric of his work life as the years passed.
"I worked for Bigelow Pharmacy in the Village when I was in college, and delivered prescription drugs to Electric Ladyland Studios on 8th Street," Cataldi said. "Once in the public relations profession, I created events like the LA Rock-N- Roll Trivia Tour, the Dewar's Bagpipe Festival, even a national air guitarist search for the best 'Guitar Face.' Finally, I've been proud to promote the annual John Lennon Tribute concert.
"But all the time, I was working on my music, genre-bending, writing and playing in local clubs," Cataldi said. "No matter the time pressures of family life and client service, I had to pursue my music. I could never let that go."
At work, Cataldi's guitar is always at the ready, never far from his phone. When inspiration strikes, music wafts through his agency's 29th Street headquarters.
"I'm a professional person who just refused to give up on my love for the craft, for music," he said. "Today's technology makes it possible, but it is important for all of us here in the New York City pressure cooker to express ourselves through our art. Never let go."