"So," you query, "just what has our fave zine editor (that's me, just so you know) been up to this past month or so?" Well, I'm glad you asked. As it happens, my life's been pretty much non-stop. I'm starting this intro on Monday, September 19th. I've just begun what may turn out to be the most intense semester of my life. This grad school thing is pretty nutso. See, I'm going full-time. Not only that, I'd like to do my student teaching this coming spring. To do that, my advisor has told me it's best that I get as much under my belt as possible... which means taking an overload during my first full semester. Work, work, work. Worse yet... Geometry. I'd probably be OK if it wasn't for this course. Proof, Proof, Proof. Blech!
What else? Well, interested (and interesting, I'm oh-so-sure) readers, I'm back on the air. Friday September 2nd marked my first radio show since May of 1987, when I did my last show at WRUR in Rochester, NY. It was fantastic being back on again. I even got a bunch of calls from people telling me how much they were diggin' it. One guy even called to ask how long I'd be on... he wanted to know how many cassettes he'd need, 'cuz he was taping it! Thanks, whoever you were. That weekend I found out that I actually got a regular show. Not bad, considering I'm new at WRSU (that's Rutgers' University's radio station in New Brunswick, 88.7 on your FM dial). So, for those of you who are in the area - it's Wednesdays from Noon to 3 PM. I think I'm using the same name for my show that I did in Rochester, "Biff-Bang-Pow". Or maybe it should just be "Audio Teen Scene." "Biff-Bang-Pow" it is.
Well, last month marked the fourth anniversary of The Teen Scene. Hard to believe it's been that long since that day I sat in my office in Secaucus and decided to see if I could come up with four pages of rock'n'roll. Even harder to read that old stuff (but fun, in a twisted kind of way). Weird to think I'm still at it. Great to think of all the cool people I've met and fantastic rock'n'roll I've met all as a result of this thing. Kinda makes me wish everyone would get involved with a 'zine. Maybe it'd bring people closer together... to see all the things they really have in common. And have their minds opened up to all the truly wonderful stuff that exists out there. I'm not just talking about rock'n'roll, either. I've met a whole bunch of people with movie-oriented mags, literary stuff, personal 'zines (one of the best is GlenBurnieland by Mr. Chuck Jones), and tons more. To tell the truth, I've actually tried a personal 'zine; it was calledSupercalifragilisticexpialidocious and was somewhere between that and a literary thing I tried, called Because 3X. (Figure it out, chumps.) And I was all set to start a Utopian 'zine called In A Perfect World. Still might, too. My last idea was Going, Going, Gone! In that one we'd take TV characters (mainly, tho' maybe long-running movie or literary figures would be allowed an appearance on occasion), old and new, and even some from commercials - and kill them off. This would be done by writing a scene or scenes in which said characters got the axe (literally, in some cases). Victims for ish #1 were to include Brenda Walsh of 90210, to be done in by goody-goody twin Brandon in a rewrite of Julius Caesar (the whole gang stabs Brenda, with the good son the last to stick it in, as Brenda utters the immortal line, "You, too, Brandon?" and our hero says nothing, preferring to let his weapon do the talking.) (Sounds kinda sexual, too. Has there ever been a porno version of Shakespeare's classic? Be kinda easy to write, wouldn't it?) Another deader was to be that damned Energizer Bunny. I'm so bleepin' sick of that thing I feel like nuking it myself. Hmm, the Bunny in the microwave? Dunno, maybe that's too kind. But it is Wabbit Season. Chuck season. "What in the hell," you wonder, "is he getting at now?" Moving now to victim number three. Or rather, to the last of our murderers. Chuck is his first name. His last name, however, is Cunningham. Ring any bells? Yeah, that's right, the first season of Happy Days.
(continued on following page)
The older brother who bounced the basketball all the time and came home to get fed and have his laundry done. Chuck was written out of the script. Well, Chucky's come home, taking out all the Cunninghams, plus Chachi (who Joanie should never have gone with in the first place), and The Fonz, as revenge for writing him out of their Apple Pie hearts, minds, & souls. Oh, by the way, Chuck leaves Fonzie's leather jacket sliced to ribbons, stuffing Mr. Cool's old blue windbreaker from that self-same first season way, way down deep in the guy's throat. Go, Chuck! Well, that wraps up most of the outline of GGG ish #1. Anyone wanna enlist?
Weddings! My cousin Denise Triolo married Mr. Ray Hancock on Saturday the 10th. A beautiful wedding and a good time was had by all. No surprise - the Triolo clan is lotsa fun... September 24th was The Event Of The Season - the nuptials of Ms. Cheryl T. & Mr. Todd A. (see story). Then up to Rochester, NY for the October 1st joining of my 1st cousin (and close childhood pal) Marc Raco & his blushing bride, Sonya Wildey. And the one I missed that same day, another surefire winner of a celebration - my cousin Anthony Triolo and the lovely Ms. Dawn Marie Yannaco. Sorry I missed it, cuz. Good luck to all. And many happy returns of your special days.
Business stuff. I'm back in school. While Eric says he'll make copies for me, it really doesn't seem fair to have him make tons and tons. So we can do this a couple ways. First, if someone out there has access to a fairly good quality copier (as John S. Hall said, "Steal stuff from work.") and is willing to make copies (double-sided, obviously), I'd be pretty dang grateful. Or, if some other kind soul would like to provide a grant... y'know, underwrite The Teen Scene... that'd certainly be helpful. I'd prefer to stay away from huge ads, tho' maybe I'd be willing to go to half a page for the right dough. It'd bum me out to have to do it, but that's just the way the Chips Ahoy crumble. I could try and sell this thing, I guess, but that might not be too easy. Getting paid for 'zines never is (or so I hear from a buncha pals who've tried). Of course, donations are accepted. See, it cost 42 bucks for 60 copies of #47-48 (not cheap when you're not working... and I had to go back for more). Well, from now on, if you want one in the mail, send me $1 and an SASE. Sorry to bum you out with all this... it's just reality staring me in the face. I'm in school and I need to watch my cash flow.
And now one more quick note. All crummy rumors about this being the last issue of The Teen Scene are hereby laid to rest. Not only will this 'zine (somehow) survive my time in school, but I get the feeling that it's not going to stay at its old length. Not at 12-point. In addition, what with that newfangled Internet stuff, I'm gonna try and throw this up there for that bunch to peruse at will.
.................................................................................................................................................................WHO WE ARE:
Blair Buscareno ... leader of the pack
Rory McGee ... "I sent it from Vermont."
WFUN DJ PICKS
Blair ... The Cynics, The Fall-Outs, The Go-Nuts, Cub, The Spectors, The Telltale Hearts
Rory ... Southern Culture On The Skids, The Hentchmen, Ike Turner, Turban Renewal
.................................................................................................................................................................THE LAST DEVIL DANCE
The A-Bones & The Hentchmen, Maxwell's - June 4, 1994
Well, here we are, four months after a decade of top shelf rockin' was put to rest. "THE END OF AN EARACHE", as the poster proclaimed in typically self-deprecating manner. Yeah, but on the other end of that pun, it was the end of an era, as far as I'm concerned. This was the first band I saw after moving to NYC (sometime during their second year as a band), and I knew after that first time that I had found a band after my own heart (or liver, as the case may be). At this late date, it can't be any secret that an A-Bones' show wasn't quite like any other goin' in this town. The percentage of folks dancing, grinning (albeit drunkenly), & going wild to those doing the old "pose, sneer, & bob the head" (about 85% - 15% on average) was much higher than you would get in your average NY rock & roll club audience. While the band once won some weekly rag's "Best Crowd" category in a yearly "Best of New York" thang, it's gotta be said the blurb didn't make it explicit as to why The A-Bones had the best crowds. I saw a lot of the same faces at other shows in town, but folks tended to go nuts more regularly with this band than most others. Why? Because they were the best. simple as that. Pure fun - low bullshit quotient. No matter what kind of crap you dealt with all day, it would be forgotten minutes after these cats (and kitten) started wailin'. They did it right, and if any of you took 'em for granted while they were around, well that's your fuckin' loss, because there won't be another like 'em any time soon. This was my fave local band, & I hated to see it come, but this was it; The Last Devil Dance.
The Norton empire's latest acquisition, The Hentchmen, opened with a rockin' set of authentic teen garage whomp, and the combination of their matching v-necks and a stage decorated with hanging multi-colored paper streamers somehow brought on nostalgia for junior high dances I never experienced (the only jr. high dance I actually attended featured some high school loser band tryin' to crank out Rush covers, with an occasional stab at Judas Priest when they wanted to really "rock out" - so much for 70's nostalgia. When I start reminiscing about the 70's it puts me in mind to swallow a pistol - sorry, I digress). There was a group of folks dancing up front, but the crowd was still sorta thin during most of the Hentchmen's set, which is too bad 'cuz these boys were F-U-N. Cool organ, guitar, & drum-fueled covers and originals (including some rippin' Strummin' Mental-style instros). They've been back since, but I missed 'em - hope to catch 'em next time. Their LP is out now, so get it.
A quick change in lettering on the bass drum & it was time for the main event. After a rousing intro by #1 fan, Michelle P. (who noted this was the first time she was actually invited up onstage), the band tore into Benny Joy's "Rollin' The Jukebox Rock". It was obvious from the git-go that the band was gonna end their illustrious career with a big old bang, and not a stinkin' li'l whimper. The crowd was going wild from the start & the band never sounded better. Billy's vocals especially grabbed my attention during the second song, "She Said Yeah". The last time I'd heard him with this much gut-wrenching grit in his voice was when the band played their first hometown show after returning from their big US tour a couple of years ago (and back then he'd just come off singing every night for a month). In fact, during the course of the show everyone got their chance to shine. Lars & Bruce tore it up mightily on an emulsifyin' "That Jim / Land of a 1000 Dances" (with plenty of audience help on vocals) & a crazed "Homicide". Miriam took over with vicious vocals on crowd faves, "A-Bomb Bop" & "Go Betty Go", while she and Mark (who always played it just plain right, no matter whom he was backing up) held it all together, rhythmically speakin', throughout.
It's impossible to go through the entire set, as they played about 40 songs and it lasted over two hours, hitting on every phase of their career, from "Gossip, Gossip, Gossip" & "Betty Lout Got A New Tattoo" through the "Music Minus 5" LP and selections from the 16 to 20 45s they've released in the last couple of years on labels spanning the globe, so we'll just hit on some more of the highlights. Early on we were treated to one of the raunchiest versions of "Froggy" ever, followed by an equally sleazy take on "The Bee". Those streamers didn't last long, as folks were ripping them down and wearing them like headbands & ties, or just flinging them at the stage & each other. The version of "You Can't Beat It" was aces, but I've always been kinda partial to their version over The Troggs' original. "Sham Rock" saw the first outbreak of stage dancing (with some "acts" ya get stage diving, with these guys it was stage dancing), as a bunch of the folks in front hopped up to make like American Bandstand. This happened several times throughout the festivities, esp. during the one-two punch of "Darlene"/"Devil Dance" (one of the true pinnacles of the evening), "Drive-In" (complete w/ Led Zep vocal break), & "Get Home Girl", the band members abandoning the stage at times to avoid being smacked by flailing limbs. Lars took over vocals on a brew-soaked (literally) rendition of "Daddy Wants a Cold Beer" with Billy (mis)handling sax chores. When the set was finished, the now completely frenzied crowd wouldn't allow the band off the stage, so on it went, Billy first pausing to give his bandmates a heartfelt thanks.
The encore began with the aforementioned "Betty Lou", cruised through "Maintaining My Cool", and soon enough it was special guest time. First up was wildman Johnny Legend with a frantic "Rockabilly Bastard". Then The Great Gaylord took the stage for "Ooh Pooh Pah Doo", "Wooly Bully", & a real gone duet w/ Billy on Don & Dewey's "A Little Love". From there the band launched into my fave of the whole shebang, an endless (and that ain't a complaint) "Go Go For Louie's Place / Jenny Lee / 96 Tears" that just built and built until I thought the whole joint was in danger of spontaneous combustion. It was amazin'! Billy then stopped to give us all a big thank you for all the love we've shown the band (aaw, garsh!) & our years of patronage. The night (and the band) came to a close w/ a plow through "Bandstand Rocket" which was almost as intense as the previous song, and finally, as a grand finale, "Blue Moon", which featured a kind of couples-only demolition derby on the dance floor.
Then it was over. The night had been such an over the top blast that it didn't sink in this was really the end of the band, until later, in the near-empty club after most sane people had called it a night. I saw that gal crying, looked up at the empty bandstand with the bass drum sitting in the middle, and then it really sunk in. That's all, folks. No more A-Bones. It was a weird feeling. And sad. I almost shed a tear myself, but instead just bummed an Advil offa Bruce & helped them load a few things into the van for the last time.
That night was the last I've seen of Bruce, though I still hear him now & again on The Hound's show. Billy & Miriam still head the Norton/Kicks empire, and are doing so in fine style (new catalog out soon - tons of new releases since the summer started, more out soon - Dig!). Mark's gal, Jackie, told me he's involved in another style of music which I won't go into here (Gangsta rap? Techno-rave? Industrial death - polka? Don't bother jumping to conclusions). And The Great Dane, Lars, skipped town completely. Oh well, time marches on and all good things...
Ten years man, and they never made an embarrassing record or altered their style in an attempt to gain more "popularity" - or any other grossly stupid conceit for that matter. Hell, even Link Wray put out an album with a drum machine on it! Not to mention the past transgressions of The Chesterfield Kings or The Cynics, among many others. The A-Bones never strayed from their (blurred) vision, operatin' with class, heart, and a lotta PERSONALITY. And truly impeccable taste in material. To top this all off, when it came time, they went out in style, maintainin' their cool all the way. --- RM
.................................................................................................................................................................The Quick Ones:
The Spectors... that's where it's at alright! Just got this one in the mail from bassist Keith Patterson and man does it rock! These guys know exactly what it takes to get you shout-n-shimmyin', movin'-n-groovin', reelin'-n-rockin' and all sorts of great stuff. Not only that, they know how to do the pop. For instance, check out the top side of their latest waxing, "That Girl Is Leaving Town" (Get Hip). I didn't even bother previewing this one before throwing it on the air during my radio show this week. I know I can trust these guys and then just follow their leader. Up top we find a soulful pop number, one that'll have its "Na-na na-naa's" sticking with you for some time. Down below, though, is where the monster lurks. "I Fell In Love (For The Very First Time)" is big, almost ominous. It's a grabbing, declarative thing. Dig that big sound.
I had high hopes for Teenage Caveman. After all, a couple of the guys from Man or Astroman? are involved. I mean, I knew it wasn't gonna be the same kinda thing; I'd already heard this was a couple M or A? guys workin' the garage side of the fence. So I was psyched. And I guess if I was starved for decent stuff in that genre, I'd probably be pretty nutso for this. Thing is, I'm not. While their "Spirit of Wildwood" (Homo Habilis) 7-incher won't send anyone running for the latrine, neither will it have people sounding the bells for the second coming of The Sonics. (The closest anyone's come to that is The Swingin' Neckbreakers.) So, let's get down to the blow by blow. The title cut is fun garage rockin', tho' possibly a bit too long. Still, it's crunchy and fuzzy enough for that to be a minor concern. While the "singer" isn't gonna be mistaken for Pavarotti (or Gerry Roslie or Barry Tashian), "You Don't Belong To Me" is gritty and party-like. The group's version of "Boss Hoss" finally gave me a handle on what the overall feel is here... mid-80s Nomads, though without that extra-special ingredient that made that band really kick. Even so, this one is fuzzy rage-rockin' all over.
Also out on Homo Habilis is the latest from Ohio faves, The Cowslingers. I'm still not completely sure how I feel about these guys. They're fun and all, but I somehow doubt they'll ever knock me on my ass and having me crying 'Uncle!" That's probably just 'cuz their drunkabilly style of rockinroll has never been what I'm about. Having said all that, let's get down to their "My Baby Don't Cum Aroun' No More" 3-songer. About what you'd expect, meaning it's nothing new. Still, by now you most likely know what this bunch is about... they've been in various parts of our fine nation, so if you're in with the out crowd, you've probably had a shot or three at seein' 'em perform (much more their element than the recording studio, really). Or at the very least, you've picked up one of their previous snackmates. Extra points awarded for the cover of Duane Eddy's "Movin' & Groovin'".
One more from the HH label, then. This one's from Canadian vets, the Forbidden Dimension. As you can most likely guess, they're on the horror/sci-fi, B-Movie end of the garage-psych scene, and both "Big Black Hearse" and "Shivs & Shrouds" bear that out. I've never been much of a Blue Oyster Cult fan, but when playing this one back at the old abode this summer, both ex-roomie Andy and the omnipresent Bluesguy ran upstairs goin' nuts over hearing FD's take on "Stairway To The Starz". Like I said, I never cared much for BOC... and me a native Long Islander.
One of the best - and until recently, most overlooked - garage combos of the late 80s/early 90s was The Fall-Outs. Luckily, the folks at Estrus and Regal Select did their best to change all that. And to good effect, too. The group's latest 45, "Sleep" (Super Electro), was the teaser for the CD that just came out (and I have yet to latch onto... remember, I'm a poor student again.) The feature cut here's one that I've found myself singing loud with the windows rolled down or even when I'm walking to classes... "I wanna sleep, all of the time / Don't wanna work, I'm too lazy / I wanna sleep... All the time!" Boy do I know that feeling. Put it together with a catchy melody and some good crunching and you've got BlairBoard hit written all over it. And the other two sides ain't exactly sleepers (OUCH!), either. [Press-time editors note(impressive-sounding title, huh? ): the full-length CD is out now... hopefully we'll get to that next time around. But you've heard that sort of thing before.]
I heard some weird shit about The Apemen. It seems that, since they came over to GarageShock from Holland without any instruments, Estrus Exec Dave Crider was in charge of procuring equipment for them. Well, OK. Being the nice guys they are, Man or Astro-Man? lent our European entertainers some stuff. Well, turns out our Dutch pals featured a lefty guitar-guy. So what does this lunkhead do but file down some of the pieces of M or A?'s guitar! Ack! So the surfing Dutchmen lack grace and any sense of good manners. They still know how to get the board waxed and ready. Both "El Tortura" and "Percolator Stomp" (Estrus) are primo examples of just how tough the surf instro world can be.
Meanwhile, back in the States. (I always wanted to write that.) Yeah, we've just jumped an ocean to surf some more... this time with the Man or Astro-Man? boys themselves. Their latest seven-incher, the Astro Launch EP features such standard titles as "Philip K. Dick In The Pet Section Of A Wal-Mart" and "Transmissions From Venus, '94", in addition to their take on "The Man From UNCLE" and The Avengers' VI's "Time Bomb". Of course, I'd like to be able to say I know all that kinda stuff, but I'm not Jon Blair (of Jon & the Nightriders, who put together that big book on surf stuff). I'm not even Billy Miller and Miriam Linna. Or the PlatterPuss. I'm just your friendly neighborhood Teen Scene editor. (Kinda like a super-hero, but without the 'super' or 'hero'.) Has anybody else noticed that there's a helluva lot more instro stuff coming out these days? I mean, there's a ton of 45s coming out the world over (including some truly ravin' rock'n'roll), but there's a much greater percentage of instrumental recordings than I've ever come in contact with before. And these Astro-Kids are at the forefront... they practically excrete records (except their waxings don't stink). I'd like to be able to say this is the only new thing out there by them for you to hand over your hard-earned pennies for, but - a) I've seen the Your Weight On The Moon CD/10" (One Louder) & b) they've probably got a gazillion other things oozing out their pores as I write. I'd also like to be able to write about that CD/10"er, but I'm a poor college student, so I'm gonna have to hold off. My fave here is probably "Transmissions From Venus" what with the canned dialogue/sound bite thingy starting off the whole shebang. Somehow, these guys manage to capture the idea of their titles pretty well in their music. This one really does have some dark, space-type (read 50s sci-fi movie) sound to it. Oh yeah, send a buck to their HQ for a vocal version of "Philip K. Dick..." I'm gonna, 'cuz they sound real good when they do vocals.
"The Go-Nuts are here to make the world safe for snacking!" Both sides begin and end with their lounge-y/TV commercial theme-sounding "Go-Nuts Theme", fading out for, on one side, "Flight Of The Go-nuts", which would be a "simple" surf instro, but for the oddball spoken horsing around... "We are the Sheiks of Smorgasbord!" and stuff about chocodiles. Yeah, this has Derek "Deke" Dickerson written all over it. Which, I suppose, makes a good amount of sense, seeing that he's involved. It kind of reminds me a bit of the goofing off found on the interview section of The Untamed Youth's "Sophisticated International Playboys" 45 on Estrus a ways back. As for the cut found on the flip of The Go-Nuts' debut, "Transfusion" is a nasty piece of trashin', lots like "Surfin' Bird" or "Bird Dance Beat". Go, Be-Bop, Go!
The Nomads went for a long time without doin' a dang thing. Well, actually, I guess they were doing something, but nothing that really brought them much notice here in the US of A between '87 and '91-'92, really. Long enough for them to be all but forgotten. And then they showed up with a strong seven-incher (and LP) in '93. And now a 45 (and disc that I'm still waiting on my cash supply for), "(I'm) Out of It"/"Fan Club" (Estrus). Organist Frank Minarik is gone as a permanent member, leaving the group with a tougher sound, all guitar no waitin'. (Well, I'll miss it, but as long as it's cool, we won't deduct points.)
Split-seven incher time. The Shitbirds team up with Simon & The Bar Sinisters for two cuts each, flying the SFTRI banner. While I usually love The Shitbirds (even if the FCC won't let me say their friggin' name on the air), this stuff's not quite (you'll pardon the pun, I hope) the shit. I dunno, I don't believe this bunch needs to be doing surf instro's, which is what you get with "Kickback 1812" & "Canadian Carwash". To me, this combo is s'posed to be about fun, poppy-punk with a great big smile. Their theme, as well as "Oh Joy" from the 10-incher, said it all. Not that this is bad... it's not; it's just nothing special. And so Simon comes in to save the day with "Surf 2000", long a fave of his live shows, continuing the blitzkrieg with "Attack of the Little Ones". So be it.
Whoops! Almost forgot the 4-songer by The Kliek. Wow! The Insomniacs had raved about these guys after their trip Over There in late Spring. (Yes, we've jumped back across the ocean. Such globetrotters.) And did they ever know what was goin' on. This one is Volume 1 in Outer Limits "European Garage-Beat Series". All covers (kinda like that 3-songer The Insomniacs did on that same label). None that I know (sorry, I'm no musicologist... too expensive a hobby; I spend enough buying all this stuff), but who cares? My pick here is the first one, "It's My Pride", where the bass takes the lead role through most of the song. Kinda like some of the best Who stuff. This is not to say that the guitar doesn't play its role; it waits, then jumps in, almost boiling hot/bubbling smooth. Frenetic, too. The other tracks aren't sleepers, either. "More and More Amore" is a sweet, not-quite mid-tempo soulful instrumental. "I'll Find A Way" is a ballad in the best mid-60s sense, though the strong-sounding vocals (both lead and backing) are pushed a bit too far to the rear for my taste; otherwise, perfect. "No One Here To Play With" is more solidly in the 60s Beat-Pop tradition. But, like I said, the #1 reason to get this is "It's My Pride".
Listening Long And Hard:
Now that I've moved down by the "Hub" city (that's what someone decided to call New Brunswick for some long-forgotten reason), it seems a safe bet I'll be stopping in at Cheap Thrills from time to time. My first trek since I officially moved in came near the end of August with TS correspondent LJ Cunningham in tow. (Mega-thanks to him for helping me carry some of the heavy stuff up the stairs.) Anyway, it was on this jaunt that I picked up a couple of discs in the used bin, one of which was that comp Taang! put out of a bunch of old stuff by The Lyres. Some Lyres, in case you didn't already know, has a cover ripped off of The Stones' Some Girls. I've been trying to figure out the point of this disc for a while now. This is what I've come up with... the title says it all. This really is just Some Lyres. It certainly isn't a Greatest Hits/Best Of package, 'cuz otherwise you'd have to include "Help You Ann"... and they didn't. For that matter, I'd also like to hear "In Motion". Oh, hell, I could probably come up with half a dozen others that I think belong that aren't on here. What is included? Well, this is another sticking point with me. While it's great having the versions of "How Do You Know?" and "Don't Give It Up Now" from that first 45 in '79 (Sounds Interesting), I personally prefer the later versions (at least of the latter), although these are not without their merits. While I've always preferred the slow version of "She Pays The Rent", this is the live on VPRO radio version. While it's chock full o'soul, and real strong, I'd like a studio take. "Touch" is from that same broadcast. And it does rock out. Maybe I'm being unfair about all this. This comp has some incredible tracks... in addition to everything I've mentioned (and by the way, despite my complaints, this is all great rock'n'roll), you can also catch "We Sell Soul", "Here's A Heart" (yeah, with Stiv), "Geraldine", "Busy Body", "How Can I Make Her Mine" and a few more. This comp may not present anything new (meaning that if you're a Lyres' nut, you may not want to bother... tho' few people have that 1st 45), but it does make a case for Jeff Conolly having led one of the premiere rock'n'roll combos of the 80s, due in no small part to his soulful delivery and intense dedication to the music he loves. What set(s) Jeff apart from so many on the scene in the mid-80s was that he was able to take his influences and turn them into something contemporary, something relevant to a modern audience... he was able to be true to the music he loved without being slavish.
Today Roberta asked me to go down to the D&R Canal State Park with her for a walk along the towpath that runs between the canal & the Millstone River. Afterwards we were to continue on in to Princeton proper and check out the Princeton Record Exchange. While I prefer Cheap Thrills, these guys (& gal) are real great about buying used stuff (and that includes vinyl... even if it's complete crap). You won't get too much, but why not rid yourself of all that junk you've got lying around from when you were fifteen and didn't know any better? And the store credit will allow you to pick up something you want... like The Tell-Tale Hearts' comp, High Tide (Big Noses & Pizza Faces) , on Voxx. I've spent the past hour or so reading the fab liner notes and listening to this thing over and over. The first I remember hearing of the boys was their debut LP, The Tell-Tale Hearts, released towards the end of The Summer of Fuzz, 1984, on Voxx. I remember flipping over the wild sounds, even if band pal, 99th Floor 'zine editor Ron Rimsite told me the guys were pissed about the mix (evidently Greg Shaw had remixed it whilst the band was on a MidWest tour, something the liner notes told us they've never let him forget!). For my money, it was still a thousand times better than the rest of the drek that was pouring into my college radio station. Ten years after the fact, vocalist Ray Brandes & bassist Mike Stax (also ex-Hoods) went back and remixed some of this material for release on this comp, bringing it to the sound they'd originally intended, the raw punk/R&B sound live audiences craved and raved on about. Five cuts come from that LP, including what could be the best-ever cover of Q65's "From Above". The organ comes thru the visceral mix at just the right volume to create the perfect effect on these remixes. A special bonus comes in the form of an unreleased track from those sessions, their version of "I'm Gonna Make You Mine" that sounds as raw and ravin' as the live material. Starting off the disc are five tracks from their first demos, done at their rehearsal/party space, Studio 517 in January, '84. Then a wild blast thru "Just In Case You're Wondering", live at The Music Machine in Santa Monica. After the album tracks, it's on to a couple more live tracks, these from that Midwest jaunt they took only a year after those first demos (why any group would travel from California to Missouri in the dead of winter is beyond me, but the guys musta heated this club to the boiling point this night with the sheer kinetic energy blasting out of their speakers, not to mention what had to be a club packed with sweaty teens dancin' to the group's Now Sound (whoops, gettin' ahead of things aren't we?) like it was the last time they'd ever see 'em. (Come to think of it, it was... these guys never returned there. In fact, that's the furthest from home they ever got... which always pissed me off; I had to settle for the ravin' records and a couple live videos). Well, as the story goes, the band got back from said tour to discover the dastardly deed Voxx-master Shaw had done in their absence. To quote from the liner notes, "After returning from the Midwest to find that our newly-remixed and released album now sucked, we resolved to set things right for our next release." And thus was born The Now Sound of The Tell-Tale Hearts, with a dead-on 60s LP jacket, right down to Rimsite's liner notes, with track by track commentary. High Tide... gives all but one of those six killer kuts. In April of '86, guitarist Eric Bacher parted ways with the group and was replaced by Peter Meisner, who appears on the original incarnation's final 45. "Too Many Lovers"/"Promise", the only non-Voxx material (released on the Aussie Kavern 7 label) included herein, was the group's parting shot... another knock-out. These guys went out in style. They began right as the Cave Stomp scene exploded the world over and bowed out just as that original crowd blew off the last of its fireworks. Some years later, Mike and organist/harp-master Bill Calhoun put together a new bunch, keeping the same name. Calhoun took over vocal chores and three new members were added, including Ron Swart, ex- of Dutch faves, Just Colours. That group also did a bit of recording... but that's not part of this story. These days, "Ray teaches high school; Eric makes guitars; Bill collects bills; Mike writes and publishes (Ugly Things is essential reading --- ed.); [Drummer David Klowden is] a waiter and student." These guys were one of the best. And remain so. The kind of thing that made me flip out over all this stuff in the first place. Get with what will always be... The Now Sound of The Tell-Tale Hearts.
Back when I was in Rochester, DJing at WRUR, rules were pretty strict for 'Radio 1' (what they called their normal college radio programming). And that's probably why I took a Midnight to 3 shift doing my own thing. Things at 'RSU are a bit easier. The rule is that you've gotta play roughly 50-60% 'Playlist'. 'Playlist' is whatever's been filed in the 'On-Air' studio by the Music Director. Happily, Max has good taste (check out his show on Friday afternoons from 3-6). And that's why comps on Telstar, Norton, and Crypt are in our 'Playlist'. As well as stuff from Get Hip. Which brings me to a disc I've been playing on the air every week... The Blow Pops' American Beauties. I could be wrong, but I think this is their second disc. Real pretty (power) pop. Produced, in fact, by Jeff Murphy of The Shoes. Just listen to "Storybook", the first track, with its tremendous backing vocals and casually catchy melody. Actually, that's pretty much the story on this whole disc. Every song on here sounds like it was plucked from a tree in paradise. "Sweet," Roberta says as she grabs something out of the room. It's just so nice hearing people sing this way, playing pretty melodies the whole time. On Cleveland, they up the ante, rockin' things up a bit, the guitar line showing some teeth. Kinda like what Material Issue's "Renee Remains The Same" might've sounded like if it had more of an edge. And still not all the way to Cheap Trick on "Stiff Competition". The next few cuts see them in more familiar pop territory, some a bit slower and one with a faint country feel. But by "All Night Long" they're ready to kick again. While it's still mid-tempo, there's definitely some danger here. Let's skip a bit again... right to my number one pick here, "She's A Runner". This is one of those tracks that just begs to be a #1 pop hit. Every time I hear the chorus, I want to (and often do) sing along. Sure, there are hints of The Beatles, but that can be said for almost any good power pop band. Geez, this disc's worth having just for this song alone, without the added bonuses I've already described. (Also check out "Everyday Clyde" and "My Carrie".)
And so we reach The Cynics. Like most, I wasn't all that thrilled with their last effort, Learn To Lose. The songs were decent, but the mix seemed all wrong. And after the incredible Rock And Roll, it was a major comedown. And so we move on to what I believe is The Cynics' fifth studio LP, Get Our Way (Get Hip, of course) I'm happy to report that this one sees them back in form. I've been picking something off this one for airplay every week on my radio show, so I'm getting pretty familiar with it, even if I haven't been able to sit right down and listen to it straight through more than a few times. (It's that damn lack of time thing due to all this danged schoolwork!) All I can say is... WOW! Mike's in prime form, as is Gregg, and a more formidable rock'n'roll tag team is tough to find in this day and age. To quote a couple of well-known (almost) stick figures, "This stuff doesn't suck." None of it. Some of it punks out ("No Reason"); some of it's solidly in the garage vein ("Don't Shoot Me Down", a cover of "And She Said Yeah", and "Love Me Now" all see The Cynics right in the heart of what made them... is famous the right word here? It should be. Mike's scream, Gregg's fuzztone... Call it The Right Stuff); some gets more to the psych side ("Lose Your Mind", of course, with great effects added to complete the atmosphere; "13 O'Clock Daylight Savings Time" continues in this rich vein); other stuff goes more into the folk-pop vein ("Private Suicide" is high on my personal playlist these days, with "Hand in Hand" pinchin' its butt-cheeks, and "I'll Wait" reminding me heavily of "The Room" on Rock And Roll). Geez, I could go on and name every song and why this one's essential, but I'm tired and I want to go to bed. Simply put, every base is covered (and covered well), leaving this powerhouse rockinroll combo free to chalk up another home run hit.
Ink Spillage:
Ex-roomie The Skeever is back once again, with helping number four of CapSoul Reviews.. And this is probably his best yet. And for that he gets the highly coveted Teen Scene Gold Medal Blue Ribbon Whatchamacallit. First is the editorial, "We Don't Need Another Antihero", in which Sir Skeever bashes the livin' bejeezus out of The Counting Crows. Perhaps the quote from The Bluesman sums it up best, [commenting on said group's focal point], "He's the Johnny Rotten of limp cocks." His lead record review this outing is actually a new one, as he raves on about the new Moe Tucker disc (I played a track on my radio show today... two thumbs up!) Also visited is NY Yankees (they suck!!!) organ player Eddie Layton, who checks in with an LP entitled No Blues On This Cruise. The Belle Barth review had me scurrying to my own record collection to make sure Le Skeever hadn't copped said LP from me as a way to remember all the great times had in The Sylvan Street Rock'n'Roll Youth Hostel. "Outing The Indies" - the centerfold - is jest perfect; Monsieur Skeever photocopies the original jackets of LPs by The Singing Palermos, The Seven Teens, and Barrel Fingers Barry, copied themselves by The Untamed Youth, The Smugglers, & Pavement, oh-so-respectively. What? Doesn't he have the Fabulous Sounds of the Pacific Northwest, happily grabbed by The Young Fresh Fellows for their debut disc? More live reviews this time 'round, too, including more on Keely Smith and Sam Butera (plus LP reviews of them and pal Louis Prima), as well as his look at the Booker T. & The MG's show in Central Park this past July (including his personal bashing of the damned WBLI DJ who had no clue who each one was. Now if only one of us - or you - would call up said loser and bawl her out.) Lots more, once again, including skewed Skeever cartoons and another "poem". Send $1 to Skeever's new address, 31-62 29th Street, #6M, Astoria, NY 11106.
We've met the gang from For Paper Airplane Pilots before. Now, as then, I can't say this is a perfect thing for every Teen Scenester, but for those way into the indie-pop underground, this is a must have. For me the highlight, albeit unsurprisingly, is Cub's Lisa Marr reporting on the Yo-Yo A Go-Go shindig held in Olympia, WA this July. Another cool read is a report on some supposed PBS show (The Dictators said it best, "I ain't never gonna watch Channel 13!" Well, OK, that's not completely true in my case, but close enough.), "The Reel World." I honestly don't know whether it exists, but it's a take-off on MTV's "The Real World" and is supposed to answer the mindboggling question, "What would happen if you took seven, retired, single strangers on a deep-sea fishing cruise for three months?" Is this for real or are these jokers just pullin' me leg? No matter. Also included are the usual reviews, musical and 'zine both. I'd complain about no review of the TS, but I don't remember if I ever sent them an ish. As it is, I may just use this new-fangled E-mail thing to get this one to 'em. I think... yup, there it is in tiny print on the lower right hand corner of the cover... $1 for this thing. Send to For Paper Airplane Pilots, PO Box 12011, Gainesville, Florida 32604.
Whether you choose to believe it or not, The Evil Eye proudly presents issue #12. And as always, Larry's got the goods. This time 'round, he worships at the shrine of The Sneetches, proselytizing all the way. Also raved on this ish are NJ's own pop-meisters, The Grip Weeds. Never fear, however, Larry still gets in a political issue... this time he slams all those who side with the Republicans 'cuz of their economic policies. By the way, Larry is one of those special people in 'zine-land who can truly write. To obtain a copy of this ultra-cool pub, send an SASE to Evil Eye c/o Grogan, 3 Tulip Ct., Jackson, NJ 08527. (Or, if you're truly cool, send the guy a buck... this comes out of his pocket, y'know.)
Wow! We truly are doing a Tales Of Teen Scene �Zine Review Revisited, aren�t we? Yet another publication makes a return appearance in these pages; this go-round it�s Ralph, the mag of �coffee, jazz, & poetry.� This time, Mr. Alfonso hands over seven bits of verse, one referencing Chuck Berry, another The Small Faces. A couple, as per usual, come to you en Francais (sorry, no cedille on this keyboard); one being �Le Monde C�est Fait En Ronde�, about which Ralph says, �I can�t even begin to translate this, except to say it�s about being in love, flying out into space on your own planet, and every star is a heart you can give.� (By the way, I�m proud to say I was able to translate that last bit all by my lonesome.) �September Travels� is Ralph�s rundown of his wild excursions across Canada in said month. Fun stuff, and I�ll make sure to listen for stuff he lists under �band alert: Chixdiggit - guitar pop punk.� (Hmm, sounds like Platterpuss heaven.) By the way, on the back page, Ralph hearkens back to a couple fave Chuck LPs, St. Louis To Liverpool & Back Home, explaining why �Chuck Berry was literally the first beat poet.� Check this one out... it�s free (tho� anyone with any class will at least send the guy an SASE... or IRC if you don�t live in Canada.) RALPH, Box 505 - 1288 Broughton St., Vancouver, BC, Canada, V6G 2B5.
Sometimes Loud, Sometimes Not:
That's the story of this month's live scene, really. Things have picked up since summer ended. No surprise there, though. I missed a bunch of great shows on Saturday September 10th. I'd like to say it was completely due to the wild wedding of my cousin Denise, but that was in the afternoon and, truth be told, if I'd really wanted to push myself out the door, I could've been at any one of a number of cool shows. As it was, Roberta and I were joined for a nice evening stroll and a viewing of The Crush by my brother Glenn and his gal-pal, Julie (a couple of us slept thru the flick... well, not me - I ate popcorn). As a result I missed Jonathan Richman at The Supper Club in Manhattan (at $20, that's probably a good thing for a poor graduate student), The Fleshtones at Maxwells (doing what many told me was one of their best shows, including a couple special guests from some band from Athens, GA for the encore), and The Insomniacs / Grip Weeds down at The Court Tavern right here in "The Hub".
So what, exactly, did I catch? Loaded question. Musically speaking, then. Well, Friday the 16th I was at Maxwells for The Grip Weeds, The Original Sins, & The Insomniacs. Actually, we got there kinda late, only catching the last few songs of what sounded like a rip-roaring set by the gang from The House of Vibes. Next up were Bethlehem, PA's favorite sons, joined for the whole set by Ms. Maria Stoiancheff on backing vox. Can't say I was expecting it, but it added some vocal depth. The O. Sins were on top this night, too, getting everybody movin' like mad. When a crowd is primed for these guys, there's absolutely no stoppin' 'em. Why they aren't one of the top selling acts in the universe, I'll never know. Go buy everything they've got, flip out, go see them, flip out some more. They're that good. Then The Insomniacs. Drummer Mike Sin says, "Thanks for stickin' around while we close for The Original Sins." (Mike's a major fan of said bunch and couldn't believe his combo had top billing.) But the boys did their darnedest to live up to it and did a swell job, too. Many thanks to them for dusting off an old fave of mine, "Sylvia Grey". Double thanks for informing me that they're finally going to commit it to vinyl.
The next week the coolest band outta Athens, GA (and not the ones I was referring to earlier on, either), The Woggles, were heading into town. I couldn't make their Thursday night gig at the Funhouse in Bethlehem, PA, but I was psyched for the next night up at Maxwells. What should happen, though, but we missed almost half the set. And we got there at 10:10. May Hoboken's stupid lawmakers rot in a mosquito infested hell. But half is infinitely better than nothing (see, I truly do know my math). We did get to see them in their matching Woggle shirts. They'd just launched into "My Baby Likes To Boogaloo" when we showed up - a couple Woggles on the dance floor goin' nuts, the rest swingin' together, almost choreographed, on stage. On into The Creeps' "Hi Hi Pretty Girl" (find it on The Woggles' Carnivore EP and The Zontar Sessions comp). This was a wild Woggles' set and the crowd was soaking it up but good. Next up were The Coctails, really not my cup of tea. Lounge stuff has never done much for me. I really don't understand the point of paying attention to it; it's great for talking over, but not much else. The only reason for them being on the bill was that they were playing the big shindig the next night (see elsewhere) along with the other stars of tonight's bill, Southern Culture On The Skids. True story: on my way in, SCOTS skinsman, Dave Hartman, asks me where my buddy is? The Bluesman. He wanted us to reprise our battle of their last gig at said locale. The big guy never showed. Just as well, tho', some things are best left to the memory. (And Cheryl's camera.) Once again, SCOTS gave the audience their money's worth and more. All the usual - the limbo (Manfred "The Professor" Jones of The Woggles wins first prize here, at least as far as I'm concerned, with the band finishing up just as he righted himself for the final time), the chicken (new Woggles' drummer Reggie Las Vegas takes this "cake", shirt off and the gals smearing wing sauce all over his bod), the pots and pans (no particular Woggle gets a prize here) - and lots more. This bunch is one of the most fun in the current rock'n'roll universe. Catch 'em whenever possible.
Sunday night. I'd spent a few hours cursing my geometry homework and it was finally time to go catch Cub... yes, back at Maxwells. Upon arrival, I spotted Ms. Lisa Marr, who greeted me warmly. We did some catching up... our last conversation had come when I rang her after The Rangers outdid The Canucks in the final game of The Stanley Cup. Lisa's pretty great and had taken it well, especially since I was really only asking her to relay a message to Grant Lawrence of The Smugglers. So how was I? Well, busy with school, really. Especially this dastardly geometry stuff. To which she responded that they had a song called "Everything's Geometry". Which she dedicated to me during the set. And what a set it was. Fantastic material from their recorded output, including faves like "Leapfrog", "Your Bed" (a particular fave on my radio show), their version of Beat Happening's "Cast A Shadow", "Go Fish", "Chico", "My Assassin", and "My Chinchilla", among others. An incredible new one called "NYC" with fantastic lines about all the great things in The Big Town, but the best thing about it is "you and me." My favorite, though, came when Lisa sings of Coney Island, a place I'm pretty sure she still hasn't made it to, but which I'd offered to take the band the week I first met them back in May of last year. Well, someday. At one pause somewhere near the end I requested "A Picnic", a particular fave, with it's melodic verses and happy chorus, "You bring me carrots and celery", repeated three times. And for the closer, Cub brings us back to the days of high school past, with The Go-Go's "Vacation". Geez, I love Cub.
Who Woulda Thunk It?:
I really wasn't expecting to catch any shows the following weekend. It would've been nice to get a chance at The Specials on Friday the 30th at Irving Plaza, or The Friggs and Original Sins out in Bethlehem, but Roberta and I were making the journey up to The Flower City, "The World's Image Center" (or something like that... whatever it is, it's trademarked), Rochester, NY. As we were delayed by our dry cleaner (figure it out), as well as a big tie-up just south of the swingin' city on the southern tier, Binghamton, we only got to our hotel about a half an hour before we had to leave to head to my aunt's for the rehearsal dinner (oh yeah, we were up for my cousin Marc's wedding, mentioned earlier). Problems at the front desk. My name wasn't in their book. Well, actually it was, but they put it under 'Blair'. Yeah, 'Buscareno' sounds like a first name, right? I was hoping against hope that something fairly decent would be going on whilst I was in town, but wasn't exactly banking on it. Still, we stopped over at the Record Archive on Mt. Hope Ave before making the dinner scene. The idea was to pick up a copy of FreeTime mag, which tells you what's going on in and around the "greater" Rochester area. No dice. The Archive was closed... at 7:20 on a Friday evening? As it turns out, they were doing a Grand Opening of a new store that night. Just my luck.
Back at our hotel later, I decided to stop at the hokey country bar attached - The Rustler's Roost - on the off chance they might have a copy of my quarry. They did! And so I perused the pages. My eyes scanned... looking for something - anything! - to do that night or the next. And then there it was... The Lyres & The Chesterfield Kings! A full page ad, too. They were playing the following night - the same night as my cousin's wedding (Arrghh!) - at some place with a truly awful name, The Horizontal Boogie Bar. (OUCH!) Anyway, as soon as I saw the ad, I told Roberta and said, "We're going!" (A hint, here, guys... women don't like it when you phrase things that way.)
I'm almost positive that these two bands hadn't played together since October, '86 at Irving Plaza. That night The Chesterfield Kings were the openers, and somewhere about the tenth song, Andy's bass amp blew. He was set to just play straight thru the PA, but the club said 'nothing doing' and that was that. And so the Lyres' came on. But now it was eight years later, and I was in the right place at the right time. No way I was gonna miss this one. I mean, I know tons of time has passed and neither band is top of the garage charts anymore, but it was still something special for me. A show that had a real aura about it. Plus, it was in my old college stomping grounds of Rochester, right around the corner from Scorgie's, where all the best shows had happened once upon a time. And, as it turned out, I'd seen the Kings at this place once before, when it was still called The Warehouse. The Lyres and The Chesterfield Kings playing together in 1994... who woulda thunk it?
The next day, between the wedding ceremony & the reception, Roberta and I stopped over at The Record Archive. Located just off the University of Rochester campus, this was the place that ate up more of my money than any other. Back then, the staff included Absolute Grey vocalist Beth Brown and a few other high profile Rochester scenesters (I believe Stan 'The Man' Merrill of Invisible Party/Lotus STP did some time there, but I'm not sure). Still on the staff after all these years, is ex-Ches. Kings' roadie supreme, Victor Tabinsky, now married and a proud papa, living right around the corner from his old pals Andy & Greg (who live next door to each other!). And so I saw Victor at the store. Was I going...? Oh yeah, somehow I'd get there.
Well, by 10 PM, Roberta and I were gettin' restless... and so we made our move. After a bunch of goodbyes (I never could do those things fast), we hit the road, with my gal-pal at the wheel. A good thing, 'cuz it's easier to change out of a suit while you're in the passenger seat than it is when you're driving (I've done it both ways.) We found the club pretty easily, with me half-looking at the map, half-remembering my way around town, even if I didn't have a car back in my undergrad days. I'd been hoping to see certain old faces, but most were nowhere to be found. Time. But Victor was there. And ex-C. Kings' guitarist Rick Cona. Plus my pal Jeff Weissman, who I'd met some years back at either a party in Binghamton or Bayonne (with a bunch of SUNY Binghamton types), and his wife, Tracey. And Tracey's brother Mike, who I'd sorta known when I was in school, 'cuz he and his pal, Mick Alber, did a wild Sunday afternoon radio show on WITR, 89.7 FM called 'The Boss Beat' (new name now, but they're still rockin' out). Mick was around, too... him I remembered seeing at Swing Set shows and such. He told me he'd just been wondering what I was up to, 'cuz he'd only recently played The Mosquitos' tape I'd given him back in '85 or so. Plus there were a few familiar faces from GarageShock. So if there weren't too many of the old faces, there were a couple, and some new ones, too.
Backtracking... when we got there, The Lyres were already at full tilt, doing one of their best shows in some time. This one included a bit of stuff not previously in the set, too. So I was gettin' pretty into it. And then they played "She Told Me Lies". HUH!?! This was The Chesterfield Kings' signature song, the one that was supposed to break garage back when it came out as a single in '84. Still a personal fave, too, after all these years. Well, as it turns out, The Lyres have recorded it (see next section --- ed.). Anyway, The Lyres' played as good a set this night as they have in the past four years and the crowd was pretty wild about it, too.
The local heroes took their time about taking the stage. And Ms. Roberta was not pleased. Finally, though, some local DJ guy came on, spouting some blithering nonsense like "These guys don't play at home too often! Blah, Blah, Blah." (Hint, pal: these guys don't play anywhere too often anymore. That's not a dig; it's a fact.) Damn, I hate DJs like that.
And so it began... with "Jumpin' Jack Flash". Then a track from their latest outing, "Johnny Volume". Then they made me happy with "99th Floor" and "Happenings Ten Years Time Ago". By about the fifth song, Roberta asked, "Why don't they just call themselves The Rolling Stones."
My oh-so-(t)witty reply: "It's been used."
I understood what she was getting at, though. The boys really did look and sound like early 70s Stones with some NY Dolls & Aerosmith (two bands with more than a passing interest in Mick & Keith, themselves) thrown in for good measure. Still, when they did "Bad Woman" I was pretty gone. I coulda done without a couple of dimwits slamming, though. Hell, I even liked "Angeline", a number taken off what I consider the weakest C. Kings' disc (by far), Berlin Wall Of Sound. And when they ripped into an old Chocolate Watch Band number, I was revved. And then a track from one of those early volumes of Pebbles, "You Rub Me The Wrong Way" (by The Road, wasn't it?). Plus stuff like "Little Girl" and "I'm Not Talkin'". You had to know they'd do more Stones' covers... that's what this crowd seemed interested in (one joker was even wearing a Voodoo Lounge tour shirt). So we heard "Midnight Rambler" and "Street Fightin' Man". And, somehow, you knew they'd get to "an old Bo Diddley number," doing "Pills". But it was a version of The Spiders' "Don't Blow Your Mind" (check out The Original Sins' version on that Spanish 45) that got me back in the swing.
Eventually it was time for the encore. After a song or two, they brought Mr. Conolly on. Well, Jeff had been perfectly sober during his set, but by this point in the evening he looked like he'd had a case by himself. The fact that he was able to stand onstage kind of amazed me. Andy had to remind him to play. He had that goofy drunk grin on his face... the one that says, "Yeah, I'm here... No, I'm not... Uh, do what?... Yeah, OK, Babiuki." But I didn't care... it was The Chesterfield Kings with Jeff Conolly onstage, doing two of the greatest garage grooves of all time, "I Can Only Give You Everything" and "You're Gonna Miss Me." On, then, to "Hitch Hike". By this point it was the end of the night and I was hanging with Victor. Hearing this one was wild. Yeah, OK, it's by Marvin Gaye, but the whole reason the boys probably learned it in the first place was 'cuz The Stones had done it back in their heyday... and so this closer hearkened back to a time when The Chesterfield Kings were up at the top of the heap, playing covers of music from The Stones' best period ('63-'67), both by those five and other like-'mind'ed youngsters like The Sonics, The Swamp Rats and more.
Overall, I'd enjoyed the night.. I mean, how often do you get to see two of your fave bands from ten years back slashing and burning together after so much time has passed? Granted, you can never go home. Or (watch me cringe as I write this next part, just for its sheer corniness), as Johnny Thunders put it so appropriately, "You Can't Put Your Arms Around A Memory". Of course, he also said not to try. And that's where he and I part company; I (almost) always will. And while the memory can never be completely reclaimed, you can still get something, some piece. Some of the old feeling can come back. The Chesterfield Kings still mean something to me. They no longer rule the garage roost along with their Boston cohorts, The Lyres, but they still rock and roll (tho' they seem to do more rocking than rolling). They still do some of the old stuff, along with the new material, and that's a definite plus. As for The Lyres, at this point, I'd be surprised (thrilled, but surprised, nonetheless) if they ever regained their stature in the garage world. I'll always be a Lyres' fan, but I'll also always long for the way they were back in the mid-80s. Still, a night like October 1st in Rochester will always be something special... for both the memories and for what exists in the realm of possibility.
That Was Then, This Is Now:
Of all the songs Vance Brescia ever wrote in his days with The Mosquitos, I never thought the title cut of their EP (covered by The Monkees on their '86 reunion LP) would be the first one I used as a heading in this mag. Of course, I never gave it much thought, either.
Six days after that night in Rochester I was ready to catch The Chesterfield Kings again, this time with The Spectors, the Minneapolis madmen who were in the midst of their whirlwind "Life of Crime" tour of the East Coast. This one was at my post-college days home base, Maxwells in Hoboken. Back in the days of yesteryear, Maxwells gigs were among the best The Chesterfield Kings ever did. Memory recalls shows where their take on The Stones' version of "Around and Around" might've been just the thing to make the permanently fat-lipped one (that's Mick, in case you couldn't follow) finally give it up, realizing he could no longer pull it off; times when Dee Dee Ramone joined the guys onstage for "Baby Doll" which he'd written for them and they recorded for their Don't Open Till Doomsday LP; or the night Prevost put a hole in Maxwells ceiling with a mic stand. And all the shindigs at Bruce Planty & Company's digs next door to the club back in the days when The Ches. Kings were the big thing.
This, though, is the 90s... a fact that's been sinking into my subconscious like a Mafia fink in the East River. What this meant in regards to the show at Maxwells, though, was anybody's guess. Back in the mid-80s, a Chesterfield Kings' show at Maxwells was a sure sell-out. Not so these days.
I arrived kinda early. But I would've done that even if The C. Kings weren't on the bill; I'm a major Spectors' fan. These are five truly nice guys with a real taste for rock'n'roll. Singer Chris Knott is one of the most affable guys I've ever met, with incredible enthusiasm for his music and anything else he's into. Of course, that can be said for all these guys - in addition to being a fab group (and real musicians to boot), they're rabid fans. Upon running into ex-Radio Birdman guitar genius Deniz Tek in their hometown, they learned four old Birdman songs that very afternoon so they could have him join them on stage that night. Now that's something I wish I could've witnessed. Anyway...
So I arrived early. The first thing I saw was the two original members of The Chesterfield Kings, bassist Andy Babiuk and vocalist Greg Prevost, chatting with some interviewer type under some major lighting in a little corner set to look almost like a living room. Both already had their gigging clothes on, ready to go. Nothing was being said as I walked over to a friend's table right next to the area, so when I walked up and Andy caught my eye, I said hello. Whoops! Guess that'll take some editing. Once the interview was done, though, we got to talking. Greg asked just what the hell I'd been doing in town the week before (the surprise on his face when he saw me right up front was incredible).
Anyway, I'll stop wasting time and move on to the show. The Spectors did their usual spectacular job, originals and covers woven together so well it was hard to tell which was which. My only complaint was with the soundman, who mixed the lead guitar way too far down. Oh yeah, one more complaint... not everybody was there during their set. Geez, folks, these guys were where the rock was really rolling this night. Still, it was great seeing my old HS pals Cliff & Tom later on. Maybe next time they'll know better. Still, if this hadn't been a Chesterfield Kings' gig, they would never have been there. (Back around '84-'86, Cliff used to tape WNYU's Mod Mondays radio show every week.)
Then The Chesterfield Kings. Back in "olden tymes" Maxwells would've been jam-packed, with barely enough air to breathe. I remember Greg once sticking the mic in my face to scream "Cry Your Eyes Out!" and me dizzy from lack of oxygen barely able to shake my head. Well, the guys haven't been in town for four years, and that wasn't exactly the pinnacle of their career. I guess a fair amount of people learned their lesson. Or maybe it's just that the guys have let their name fade from the collective rock'n'roll consciousness. In some cases it's still in memory, ready for retrieval, but for others it's been relegated to the forgotten toy chest of time, something to be dug up now and then, recalled fondly, then allowed to gather dust for another decade or so. Maybe that's why rock'n'roll bands break up so often. The choices aren't too good, are they? Option the first: Stick around for 15 years (in one form or another, like The Chesterfield Kings), put out an LP every few years, don't play much, and try and update your sound to stay relevant. Next choice: Still stick around for 15 years, put out a healthy amount of 45s and LP/CDs, and play fairly often, but not get past a certain point. The case in point here is The Lyres, with "How Do You Know?" sounding more and more ominous each time. It's as if Jeff Conolly is Route 66, with rock'n'roll playing the part of the superhighways that have grown up around him, weeds growing thru the cracks in his pavement. (Geez, this is getting really disgusting... But I'll get on to) Another idea: Break up after a few years of high-energy brilliance and move on. Very few get the chance for the last: Stay together, make consistently great records and keep playing great live shows, and actually get somewhere. Some manage all but the last part. But it wears on them. Maybe the best choice is to switch groups every five years, just to keep the ideas and enthusiasm up. But what do I know? I'm only a fan.
Enough morbidity... back to the show.
Well, things started off OK, with "Great Balls of Fire". Maybe, we thought, the stupid haircuts and clothes wouldn't make a difference. This one rocked out damn well. And Greg was in the audience almost right from the start. Thing is, the crowd wasn't pressing the stage... people are older and seem to want to preserve what little hearing they've got left. I was pretty psyched when Andy dedicated "99th Floor" to "our old pal, Blair." And, like the week before, the interspersed the nuggets with the new stuff... for a while. Slowly, though, the Pebbles, Boulders, Rubble, Nuggets, and what-have-you became less and less frequent... and the club became less and less populated. It was kind of sad for me... 'cuz it was still a good rock show, though not the old rock'n'roll blasts that we'd known in the past. One last hurrah: "Hitch Hike". Worthy of the band in their prime.
No, they didn't do an encore.
Andy asked me later what I thought. I told him I enjoyed the old stuff more than the new. He said, "We did some of that." Yeah, and I was happy with that. I still liked some of the new stuff, just not the way I'd gone nuts over the old stuff back when we were still in our late teens/early 20s.
One more thing... way back when, Greg used to scream, "Hey, Crawdaddy!" and the audience would echo it. This time around, he'd just shout "Moo Goo Gai Pan". Huh? I kept expecting him to go into "She Said" by The Haze... "Do you know what she tried to tell me?/She said, 'Moo-Goo-Gai-Pan, 'Moo-Goo-Gai-Pan'".
Life Of Crime, Part Three:
What the hell is he talking about 'Part 3' for? What's this 'Life of Crime crap' about, anyway? Well, coveted readers, it's like this. See, this was the third night of the big four-date 'Life of Crime' tour by those Minneapolis madmen, The Spectors. That show with the C. Kings was the second, and the show I missed on Thursday night at the Funhouse in Bethlehem (due to a class that doesn't let out till 10:20 PM) was numero uno. (That one, I hear, was a night to remember, with drummer Eric Tretbar throwing one of his drums out of the way for some reason I don't recall, with it ending it's flight crash-landing into bassist Keith Patterson's leg. Keith took it as a dig at his bass-playing and a mite bit of unpleasantness ensued. Eventually, the air was cleared, though, and the show went on.)
So here it was, Saturday night the 8th, and I was attending my first New Brunswick show as an area resident. First time in my life I've lived within 5 minutes of a club. I like it. And this was a show of shows. First up were the Minnesotans, who once again pulled it off like only they can. This time the sound was much better, too. Both sides from the current 45, "Gotta Sow My Wild Oats", and more. I gotta say, it surprised me to be hearing the Beat/Garage-oriented Spectors spewing attitude everywhere with a cover of (the tour's title tune) "A Life of Crime" by The Weirdos. As if it mattered. These guys know rock'n'roll - call it punk, call it garage, call it Beat, call it pop, whatever... they've got it down. They own it. And with bassist Patterson coming up to the mic every few minutes to say "Moo Goo Gai Pan"... or "This next one's called... 'Moo Goo Gai Pan', #26 down the street" the audience was in stitches (many of whom had been in Hoboken the previous night).
Oh yeah... if you want to watch one of the best drummers around, check out The Spectors' Eric Tretbar.
Next up were the Garden State's own garage kings, The Swingin' Neckbreakers. And the crowd was with 'em all the way. Geez, come to think of it... this show at The Court Tavern in (cringe) The Hub, was more crowded than the night before at Maxwells in the Mile Square City. Geez, people were getting smart and blowing off Sleep-With-My-Beef and making the haul downwards for some (as Bill Kelly would put it) "real rock'n'roll". I sure hope the Neckbreakers do GarageShock next Spring, instead of vamoosing to Europe.
And on to The Devil Dogs, who'd just come off an afternoon gig in Philly. "Yeah," they agreed in an OK-whatever tone, "Philly sucks." I wasn't feelin' too well by this time, as Roberta had fed me some potent chili earlier in the evening, but I stuck it out anyway, 'cuz The D. Dogs are something special. And seeing them with a rock'n'roll crowd (instead of with a bunch of stupid hardcore slam-punks who think they own the floor, flailing arms everywhere, throwing anyone who ventures within ten feet of them to the floor, the stage, or into a wall) is a special treat. They can do their thing and do it right. And tonight, for "Brand New Chevy", Spectors' lead guitar-guy, Dan Boardman, joined the band on harmonica. "Radio Beat" continues to be a fave of mine, with "The Higher The Heel" right behind it. And hearing them do "Babysitter" is always a treat.
Time for bed.
The Event Of The Season:
Originally, I was gonna dedicate a whole page to this. Thing is, I haven't been able to completely convince myself that someone's wedding should be reviewed in a fanzine. Still, though, the marriage of Cheryl Tickner and Todd Abramson on Saturday the 24th of September was a rock'n'roll wedding in the truest sense. Tons of people into the same kinda thing, plus cool music to be heard at the post-ceremony (which, by the way, was on the Stevens Tech campus in Hoboken, with a beautiful view of NYC over the Hudson) shindig. First up were The Coctails, perfect for this part of a wedding. Not usually to my taste, but this was their element. And then Southern Culture On The Skids. Just try and find a better group for a rock'n'roll wedding. I dare ya. The wedding favor? A 45 with a track by each group. WOW!
Usually I'm not much of a fan of weddings. Too many I find myself sitting and listening to lousy music and looking forward to leaving. Not this time. This was of the too-bad-it-can't-last-all-night variety.
Congratulations, Cheryl & Todd.
The Quick Ones:
You've already read the review of The Spectors' latest seven-incher (and a look at their latest blast thru the NYC area), but they've got plenty more where that came from, including 4 X Thor , an EP due out
on Sweden's Tracks on Wax label (whose previous releases include one of the best mid-80s garage-type recordings, Enjoy The Creeps) and possibly even a 45 for Todd A's Telstar label... For those who don't already know, The Voodoo Dolls are no longer. Boston's finest are gone good-bye. When drummer Bruce Pierce announced his decision to leave the band for personal reasons, vocalist supreme Cam Ackland decided he'd had enough. The V. Dolls' biggest problem over the years had been in keeping a rhythm section together and, for Cam at least, this was it. Their final show was held at The Rat in Boston's Kenmore Square early this past spring. Meanwhile, guitarists Evan Shore and Dave Harrison have decided to soldier on under the name The Nines. A 45 is due out soon... After a lengthy silence, The Loud Family (that's ex-Game Theory Scott Miller's current confab) finally have a new CD due out, entitled The Tape of Only Linda. A good thing, too, 'cuz I felt rather ripped off by that six-song ten-incher with mainly old songs on it. Tour to follow... I guess the big news (that's why I've smothered it in the middle of a paragraph here) has to be the signing of Southern Culture On The Skids to DGC! Originally, I thought I was supposed to keep this under wraps, but the news has already been published by a commercial publication (as well as being an open secret). The band plans to record their first effort at the same place they did their Santo single, keeping costs down so they don't get their fannies flattened by the major label lunkheads... One of the people I ran into at that C. Kings/Lyres' show was original Chesterfield Kings' guitarist Rick Cona, who left the band in Spring, '87, not long after recording Don't Open Till Doomsday, possibly the group's finest recording. I'd seen Rick a few times since, mainly toward the end of the 80s at such places as the now-defunct Big Kahuna in NYC. Upon leaving The C. Kings, Rick had set out for LA, where Fuzztones' frontman Rudi Protrudi had asked him to join on guitar. (He declined.) Reliable word also has it that at one point Jeff Conolly asked Sir Rick to join his then-current confabulation of Lyres. (Once again, Rick wisely declined.) Eventually, Rick moved back from LA, considering a move to either NYC or Philly. Neither one ended up happening - Rick went back to sunny Rochester, home of "lake-effect snow", Nick Tahou's Garbage Plate, and Sal's Birdland. For a while, he played in a group with fellow ex-Chesterfield Kings' guitar-guy Walt O'Brien (also formerly of Rochester groups The Insiders and The Swing Set, and almost a member of The Tonebenders.) Now we move to the present and what Rick actually told me (as opposed to the history lesson I've given you based on "various reliable sources"). Rick told me he'd read something I'd written for some fanzine recently and asked what I was up to, as well as, "Did you move back here?" (No.) Then it was my turn to ask what he was up to. As it turns out, Mr. Cona is currently playing in a group called The Cells, who recently opened for The Ramones up there. He describes them as "kinda 60s... and 70s". I encouraged him to come on down to the NYC area. Somehow, I'll have to get in touch with him and try and arrange something. Rick's a great guy and always had superb musical taste. Hope he records soon... As long as we're in the vicinity of The Chesterfield Kings, let's talk about their latest projects. Well, as some may already know, they came down to NYC about a day early, so as to do a bunch of stuff on USA's "Up All Night", goofin' around and such. That episode is set to air on November 5th, so check it out. They've also done tracks for tributes to The Seeds & The Pretty Things. In addition, the boys have done a 45 under an alter ego, The Paisley Zipper Band, out on Get Hip. Now, look back a couple pages to where I was talkin' about The Lyres doing "She Told Me Lies" (also known, quite affectionately, as "She Sold Me Fries" and "She Gave Me Hives"). As it turns out, there's a reason for that. It seems The Chesterfield Kings & The Lyres will be doing a split seven-incher together, with The Lyres poundin' out that best-known of C. Kings' tracks and the Rochester ravers takin' on one of Conolly's greatest hits, "Help You Ann". They were also originally planning on including some live material, that part of the show I saw where Jeff got up to play organ on "I Can Only Give You Everything" and "You're Gonna Miss Me". But MonoGuy was a bit... well, shall we say PLASTERED! Andy was shouting the chords in his ear. Originally the plan was for Jeff to not only play organ, but to take over the mic on every other verse. So much for that. One more bit of Kings' news, their next show (no, not in the NYC area... it's anyone's guess when that'll be, but they promise one sooner than four years): December 17th in Rochester they'll be backing up Bo Diddley. The big question is, "Will Greg steal all the good putdowns from Bo again?" See, in the mid-80s they backed Bo down in DC. And Greg kept stealing all the best lines. This was also in the days when the guys still had their name written in super-psychedelic lettering on the drum kit, leaving Bo to thank them in the following fashion, "I'd like to thank..." (looks at the drum head... again... squinting and finally giving up), "the band."... Unhappy Rumor Department: Word has it that Ms. Melanie Vammen, rhythm guitarist for The Muffs, has been given the old heave-ho. I'm hoping this isn't true, as Melanie's lotsa fun and extremely cool, but the source is usually pretty damned reliable. I'll keep you posted. (And, NO, I don't know when the next Muffs' disc is coming out. Leave me alone.)
Well, that wraps it up. Now I can grab a sandwich and get ready to start on the next ish. (The Mummies on CD?! The Rip-Offs do an LP. Rat City Records. Teengenerate.) BYE!
