I’m sittin’ here grinnin’, more than incredulous wondering how on earth I’m remembering these flashbacks from almost 40 years ago, when I can’t remember where I put my glasses. I started this project a few months back believing that out of the hundreds of concerts I attended between 1966 and 1976 that I may recall enough detail to write about a dozen reviews. As I continue my research, I’m sure I can go beyond that goal. My research involves looking through old articles, photos, albums and accessing online materials. This prompts memories and sometimes reveals actual dates and set lists. This has proved to be a blast…I’m lovin’ every minute, hope you do too, if not… well, fucka-duck, I’m lovin’ it anyway.
Back in ’66 I was more excited than Minnie Driver getting’ a tattoo on the left cheek of her ass just thinking about seeing Gary Lewis & the Playboys – especially since I was goin’ solo without my parents or my big brother watchin’ me. I was just 14 years old in the summer of ‘66 and I was an avid fan. I had several of his albums including This Diamond Ring, Sessions and Golden Greats. To me Gary Lewis was a superstar…7 top ten hits since 1965 and he even starred in a stupid-cool B movie entitled Out of Sight, with the tag line “It’s so way out, it’s out of sight”. It was cool though I never understood a bit of it…the plot was something about a rock band - played by the Knickerbockers, Freddie & the Dreamers and Gary Lewis & the Playboys, nobody noticed it wasn’t the same band - getting’ high and drunk and getting’ laid but is was all disguised by innuendo, smoke, mirrors, and fake-hipster dialogue spoken in a surreal falsetto voices. Great movie. It’s said that Gary considers Out of Sight as his Head, the music-film noir masterpiece by Jack Nicholson and the Monkees.
I attended the matinee show for younger teens, sometimes this can prove disappointing to both the artist and the audience. How on earth can you get a musician fired-up for an afternoon show when he’s just got to bed an hour before the show after traveling all night long, suckin’ the bong, and wearing down his man-part? And then there are the teeny boppers, all fresh faced, bratty, and terribly demanding…
”PLAY WIPE OUT”
”It’s not our song”
”PLAY WIPE OUT”
”Oh please…you must be kidding”
YOU SUCK
hmm…Wipe Out in “C”
The show opened with the MC announcing that this was Gary’s Farewell Concert that he was drafted into the military. A collective moan filled the house from the sunken dance floor to the rafters...but then Gary walked onstage and the tone shifted immediately as shrill screams pierced the hall, the girls loved him and so did I …I was screaming too! Here at Daniel’s Den is the biggest star I’ve ever seen…bigger than Kenny Roberts, the Jumpin’ Cowboy…I’d seen Roberts before, he even had a local television show for kids and man that cat could yodel. But today it was all about Gary Lewis and no matter what he did, what he said, or what he sang, the girls were screaming their fool heads off. Lewis seemed to derive some kinda wicked pleasure knowing the power he had over these teeny boppers. He sauntered over to the guitar player and put his arm around him; they’d scream. He skipped over to the keyboard player and mugged for the camera; they’d scream. He screamed; they screamed.
ENOUGH OF THE SCREAMIN’ALREADY!!!
Lewis did all of his hits, Al Cooper’s This Diamond Ring, Count Me In, Sure Gonna Miss Her, Green Grass and they sounded, well...powerful (for the time)...it didn’t make any sense to me that Lewis’ lightweight pop hits had such a volcanic sound. The band was terrific and the sound was layered and full. The rhythm section was crisp and tight and the drummer was absolutely awesome. He was fast and his beat wasn’t just on time it snapped and cracked with authority, the only comparison I can think of is Johnny Barbata, in my book, one of the best rock drummers of the sixties. Barbata initially found fame with the Turtles, a great underrated and misunderstood hit machine and went on to further acclaim with Crosby, Stills, and Nash. The Playboys' guitarist was sonic perfection with just a hint of bluesy rebellion behind the note-by-rote pop confection and the bass guitarist played some runs I never thought were possible. This was more power pop than bubblegum, though I didn’t think of it that way at the time. I just had a funny feeling about the band...they were just too damn good. The show’s highlights included a rockin’ version of Everybody Loves A Clown as John West, the only original Playboy, played his ass off on the cordovox, that accordian lookin' instrument that was strapped on and amplified (he didn't have to squeeze it) and the arrangement of Save Your Heart For Me was simply beautiful. But the surprise of the evening was the aural perfection of Without A Word Of Warning, it was the most memorable performance of the show, though it wasn't a hit. The uptempo arrangement built was structured around a descending refrain - powered with great harmonies - that accented the band’s tight interplay and skillful command of the music. I left the show thinking that I witnessed something special. And it was special in many ways. It signaled Lewis’ last hurrah as a viable hit machine and it was the last time he played with such accomplished musicians. I didn’t know any of that at the time and it took me about 40 years to find out that Lewis’ drummer was none other than Jimmy Karstein, who went on to work with Eric Clapton, JJ Cale, Bobby “Blue” Bland, and the Everly Brothers; the magnificent Carl Radle of Derek & The Dominoes (and George Harrison and many, many others) fame played bass guitar; and the lead guitarist was the extraordinarily gifted Tom Tripplehorn. The Playboys were perhaps the first rock ‘n roll super group, especially when you consider Leon Russell’s musical contributions. In retrospect, this gem of a show was like feelin’ a sharp pain, lookin’ down at your stubbed toe and findin’ a crisp dollar bill stuck to the bottom of your foot - you just never know...
Peace,
Bo White
7/20/05
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