Stephen Pitalo
Marty Falle is a free spirit and a kind soul. At his home near the ocean in South Carolina, he has a sign in the kitchen that reads, “My home is the open sea where stars shine bright, and my soul is free,” which Marty said kind of sums it up. “Music is my first memory,” Falle said. “I was with my mom, at my childhood home in Parma, Ohio. The instrumental ‘Love is Blue’ was playing on an old Zenith radio in the living room while rays of sunlight lit up the room. My mom was cleaning and humming along. Whenever I hear that song, I am instantly there.” Falle’s father had records 36
that included decidedly uncountry tunes, specifically Burt Bacharach, Frank Sinatra, and Herb Alpert and the Tijuana Brass. He recalls his parents dancing to “This Guy’s in Love with You” in the living room, and Falle filled his days playing 45s repeatedly, everything from “American Pie” by Don McClean to “I Never Promised You a Rose Garden” by Lynn Anderson. “And then there’s Neil Diamond’s ‘Sweet Caroline,’” he said. “I eventually saved enough for a stereo, blaring Deep Purple, Pink Floyd, and Rush, much to the chagrin of the neighbors.” Everyone in Falle’s childhood home was required to choose
an instrument, take lessons, and practice. Falle chose the viola in second grade, then tenor saxophone in 4th grade, and then in 9th grade added bass, guitar, and piano. Then he got the itch to join a rock band with some other football players at school. “I told them I played bass, even though I did not have a clue. I remember taking my paper route money and putting ten dollars down on a Kay bass from Parma Music, and I paid it monthly until it was paid off. I could not afford a bass speaker, so I made one from scratch. I used to play high school dances, and I remember my speaker cabinets shaking
