Canadian rock legend Frank Marino returns to the spotlight

Frank Marino, one of Canada's most celebrated guitarists and the pride of Montreal rock , is back after a recovering from a long illness.

Canada produced many legendary rock bands over the past six decades, but few could work a guitar like Montreal-born Frank Marino, founder of platinum-selling band Mahogany Rush.

“I don’t think there’s anybody like Frank, basically, and guitarists who play and good guitarists know exactly Frank’s skills, and how he is and how important it is to classic rock,” said Marino fan and historian, Ryan Sparks, who wrote the liner notes for Marino’s DVD set Live at the Agora.

Yet Ryan and most followers of Marino’s career were convinced they’d never see or hear him perform again. Four years ago, the guitarist stunned the music world when he announced that nerve damage to his shoulders would prevent him from ever playing again.

“I had frozen shoulder in my right arm and then in my left arm. And each one lasted 18 months. That’s all. It was very, very bad,” Marino told CTV News.

Marino says he tried all sorts of treatments, from the conventional to the more experimental avenues, but never felt an improvement. His fans felt a deep sense of loss. But Marino’s determination to heal was strong.

Time, rest and a steady combination of physical therapy eventually fixed his shoulders.

But bad luck struck again when he injured a finger while building one of his custom guitar pedals.

“I’d say it’s about 80 to 90 per cent back. But, you know, I can play anything that I could play before, but it hurts. So I must play through the pain just like an like a hockey player,” he said.

But it’s not like the musician never faced challenges before. As a teenager in the late 1960s, an experiment with LSD landed him in hospital for an extended period. The bad trip was an eye-opener. And Frank Marino decided that he wanted to become a guitar player, inspired by the musicians of his time, such as John Cipollina (Quicksilver Messenger), Carlos Santana, Johnny Winter, and, of course, Jimi Hendrix.

An alternative story once circulated that during his LSD overdose, Marino somehow became the reincarnation of Hendrix, who died in 1970 at age 27.

“That’s the story that (Montreal Star writer) Juan Rodriguez made up,” insists the guitarist.

“I went to the hospital on that acid trip in 1968,” he explains.

“Now, if you remember, Jimi Hendrix died in 1970. So I learned how to play guitar in that hospital. And I came out playing that kind of music, but I had no encounter with Jimi Hendrix, who was very much alive,” he said.

Was Marino flattered by the comparison? Not at all, he says, because the urban legend made it sound like he was a Hendrix wanna-be.

His LSD abuse, he says, didn’t last long. By the time Marino reached his early 20s, he had completely given up drugs and found spirituality in his Orthodox Christian faith.

“When someone says, ‘Did you have a good gig?’ I’m really looking for did I get out of myself and go into the spiritual side of what I did, or did I just move my fingers,” wonders the musician, reached at his home.

“And most of the time I try to get out of myself, get out of my way, and really, really dig deep into the spiritual side of myself,” he said.

For more than a decade, Marino surrounded himself with fellow musical virtuosos under the moniker Mahogany Rush. Among them, his brother Vince Marino, the late Montreal drummer Jimmy Ayoub, and bass player Paul Harwood. They released classic rock albums such as Child of the Novelty, Strange Universe, and Mahogany Rush 4 and World Anthem, while touring non-stop around the world.

But while the band was a fan favourite and a staple of FM rock radio, it never matched the commercial success of other contemporary rock bands of the 70s. It led to tensions with Marino’s record label, Columbia, which expected pop-oriented songs, while the band wished to keep its blues-rock experimental sound.

“I was having a problem with that. And, you know, that was when I was on Columbia, this was this was a fight every day with them,” he said.

Marino then ripped his own recording contract.

“When I finally walked away from that contract, I said I would never go back to a major label again. And I never did. And I had plenty of offers to do that. But I decided, no, I’m just going to do what I want to do when I want to do it. I don’t have to do an album every year,” he recalled.

“I made the decision to depart from what you call the industry, I felt like I was more in control of my art and what I was doing, and it really didn’t matter to me whether I wasn’t playing big buildings anymore.”

But he also faced the prospect of never playing again, when his shoulder issues led him to believe he would have to abandon playing altogether.

“All of the shoulder was three years of horrible pain. That was bad. It was very, very bad.”

If that wasn’t enough, Marino injured his hand while working on his line of guitar pedals.

“That was on top of all the other things that were happening to me, not being able to use my left hand or my index finger on my left hand, it made it a lot harder,” he said.

“So basically, I went to all the different doctors and hand specialists and all of that stuff, and nothing worked. They tried all these magnets, and it cost me a lot of money, and it was all really for nothing and lasers. And so, I just decided to wait and tried playing slowly and gradually. It’s all over time. My finger came back.”

Patience, therapy, and cortisone eventually allowed him to play again.

“So now it’s back. It’s I’d say it’s about 80 to 90 per cent back. But, you know, I can play anything that I could play before, but it hurts. So I have to play through the pain just like an like a hockey player,” he said.

For the first time, Marino could contemplate playing and performing again. In early October, he took part in a private jam in the West Island with fellow Montreal musicians, and the spark lit up.

He was soon contacted by Montreal radio personality and music promoter Mitch Melnick, who organized a 40th anniversary charity tribute to the 1985 Live Aid concert on Oct. 30.

Melnick said it took a lot of convincing to bring Marino on board.

“He said, if I’m able to play, I’d consider it. And I just kept after him. Just every week, there was an update, and it sounded like he was really into it. And I didn’t want to announce anything until he was absolutely sure he was going to play,” Melnick said.

For fans around the world, it’s the news they all waited for.

“Whether it leads to something else. Who knows? But at least locally here in Montreal, we’re going to get a show.”

Marino himself hasn’t ruled out a full return to performance.

But don’t expect Marino to go out on a lengthy tour anytime soon. Visa restrictions and the high cost of touring make the proposal not financially viable. But he says he could picture himself playing across Quebec in smaller venues.

It’s a return to the stage most fans say they never thought would happen.