Sunday, July 8, 2012



The Climax Blues Band

Live @ the Brewery in East Lansing

1973

To be truthful I had not known much about the Climax Blues Band when I sauntered back into my favorite club. At that point, I had been attending MSU for three years and had checked out all the clubs. I loved seeing the Woolies at Lizards and I saw Byrds front man Roger McGuinn @ a small bourgeois chain of clubs known as the Coral Gables but I always preferred the Brewery. It had more of a working class feel and the price for beer was reasonable. I had nothing better to do so I hooked up with my best buddy “the Nabber” and made it to the how on time. After several beers and an opening act I cannot remember, Climax Blue Band took the stage. The lead guitarist and singer Peter Haycock wad the focal point. He could play guitar like ringing a bell – straight up 12 bar blues with or without the slide, hard rock, boogie, country, pop – he could do it all. He was just a sprite of a man, the rest of the group towered over him. The bassist Derek Holt kept a strong bottom and he was a great harmony singer while Colin Cooper blew a mean sax and he could sing leads with his smooth supple baritone. They opened the show with the sultry and sensuous All the Time in the World. It is a mid-tempo rocker that is a mature statement about sex and love – a masterpiece that should have been a #1 hit – only it went on for six minutes. I Am Constant followed. It is a pop-oriented ode to honesty

I Am Constant

As the morning star
Shines out of the sky
And I am constant
Never knowing if it's

Truth that's in your eyes,
As unchanging as the rivers flow,
But heaven knows I've tried
Rearranging different music

But still the same inside
I am constant...
I am constant
As the morning star

Shines down from above
And I am truthful
But who knows the truth
When jokers fall in love

Dust and ashes take the best of us
But what goes on before
Superficial as humanity
When people go to war

I am constant...
I am you...yes I am...



They followed with Flight an extended jazz/blues jam with a unique interplay between the lead guitar, bass, keyboard and saxophone. It meandered a bit but it allowed the musician to stretch out and get down. The band went back to their origins with a knockout version of Willie Dixon’s masterpiece Seventh Son. Standing by the River and So Many Roads are a back-to back blues rockers that pay homage to the bands early influences. The use the 12-bar format to stretch out and jam with Haycock’s brilliant guitar work and extended keyboard and saxophone flourishes. It was during this extended jam that I got up and danced in front of the band pulling up my smiley face tee shirt over my head and bouncing around like a happy lunatic. They didn’t seem to notice and as I continued to listen to the band and appreciate their great music I felt just like a fool. The leader Colin Cooper takes the vocals on the upbeat rocker You Make Me Sick. Haycock ripped it up with some brilliant slide work.

At this point of the show, they performed Shake Your Love, a hit on our college radio station. I loved the rawness and the heat of this lurid tale of sex and debauchery. It has a speeded up Bo Diddley beat and screaming harp that is deliciously primal. The lyrics don’t hold anything back

Mama mama when you hear me call

It’s time to rock and it’s time to ball

Can be rough so hold on tight

We gonna shake some love tonight



Gonna shake some love tonight

Gonna jump and shout, gonna scratch and bite

Gonna Shake your love tonight

Rolly Polly jump the gun

We’ll keep on shaking till the morning come

I can tell by the look in your eyes

You just won the super prize

Up and down and in and out

I’m gonna show you what it’s all about

You don’t need your high class friends

Cos  I’m gonna shake your love again\



The show ended with Wilbert Harrison’s magnificent peace and brotherhood anthem Let’s Work Together - a perfect closer. Last time I heard about the Climax Blue band they had a radio hit with Couldn’t Get it Right, not a bad song but it had nowhere near the power and artistry of the songs they performed at the Brewery in 1973. By the mid-eighties Colin Cooper was the only member left from that classic lineup in 1973.  Through the ensuing years Peter Haycock was involved in several projects including a tour with a re-formatted Electric Light Orchestra. But in 1973 he was on top of his game, a real master of the art of blues based rock & roll. 


Badfinger Live @ The Brewery





Badfinger in 1974
Live @ the Brewery in East Lansing

Badfinger is one of my all-time favorite bands. I have a bitter sweet memory of their great live performances and uneven yet compelling recorded body of work. Dan Matovina authored a definitive history of the band in 1997 entitles Without You; The Tragic Story of Badfinger. Mantovina weaves a masterful tale of this star crossed band that deserved more than it ever got. The villain proved to be Badfinger’s manager Stan Polley who controlled the band’s finance and set them up with near subsistence wages while collecting 30% of the gross receipts. It was criminal. But I never realized the financial burden Badfinger lived under during their recording and touring heyday.
I attended my first Badfinger concert in December 1970 @ the Midland High School gymnasium. One of the deejays  Scott  Seeburger, a precocious teenage wunderkind deejay who operated a unlicensed public access radio station in the basement of his parent’ home ala Wayne and Garth in Wayne’s World. It was a great show. The opener was Michigan rocker Third Power. They did a rockin’ set that included their version of Little Drummer Boy. It was a good warm up for what happened next. Badfinger hit the stage to a mild response. They looked awkward, a bit shy with no electrifying pop star stage presence. They opened with a rousing version of I Can’t Take It and proceeded to play almost the entire No Dice LP including  kick-ass versions of No Matter What and Waterford John. Molland’s compositions Love Me Do and Better Days were a counterpoint to Ham’s more melodic songs. Ham’s poignant reading of We’re For the Dark was a perfect illustration of his sense of melody and lyricism. Pete Ham’s Voice was incredible. He possessed a four octave range that could reach way down low and then hit the stratosphere. His country tinged Blodwyn got a mild response for a crowd that seemed to prefer rock & roll. Badfinger reached back to their eponymous debut LP with Crimson Ship (about Paul McCartney), Midnight Sun – another great mid-tempo rocker penned by Ham. The band closed the show with Rock of Ages breathlessly sung  by bassist Tom Evans. It was stunning working-class performance without any frills or pretension, just good music.
 I continued to follow Badfinger throughout the next four years culminating in another great Badfinger performance in 1974 in my final year at Michigan State University. In my four years there, I became a regular at the Brewery in East Lansing. It was the most important venue on campus. It was just a bar but the folks at the Brewery were true believers. In my last two years in town I attended shows by Joe Walsh & Barnstorm, the Climax Blues Band, and the glorious Rory Gallagher. I will write up review of those incredible gigs as well so stay tuned.
As I waited for Badfinger to hit the stage I noticed that there weren’t any roadies setting up the equipment.  The band was doing their own set-up. I got the gumption and wallowed my fear and approached Badfinger drummer Mike Gibbins. We talked about Paul McCartney’s Band on the Run – Gibbins opined “that’s a good one” a well as their latest disc Badfinger and I praised several songs including Give it Up and Andy Norris – two hard rockers penned by Joey Molland, Gibbin’s Why Don’t We Talk and Pete Ham’s funky Matted Spam. I was pumped!
After an extended and loud sound check Badfinger took the stage. They opened with Molland singing Only You Know and I Know (penned by Dave Mason) and proceeded to rock hard and loud with a triumvirate of songs from their ASS LP -Constitution, Blind Owl and Timeless.  This was not the Badfinger I saw in 1970. They were much louder, so loud that I yelled at them to turn it down. People around me told me to “shut up.” I did. And I got use to the volume as the show progressed   It was apparent that they were no longer the Beatlesque mop-tops from 1970. They updated their sound and the dynamic interplay and the harmonic leads between guitarists Molland and Ham was astonishing, inspired.  It was apparent that Badfinger had been listening to the twin lead harmonics of the Allman Brothers and was able to incorporate it into their power pop-oriented framework.  Molland seemed to be at the front and center of this phase of Badfinger, assuming more of the spotlight with his hard rocking tunes.  He contributed the raucous Give it Up, Feelin’ Alright (another Mason song), Suitcase and Andy Norris. Pete Ham was still the putative leader and he commanded attention whenever he sang with his rich, full range tenor. He contributed a rock hard versions of Name of the Game, I Can’t Take It,  Day After Day,  and Take it All. It was a masterful performance. I left feeling that Badfinger was at the top of their game and had a bright future ahead of them. Instead it all fell apart. Badfinger’s tragic end was one of the most inglorious chapters in a corrupt music industry. They deserved better.

Monday, April 23, 2012

Louder than Love: The Grande Ballroom Story

Louder Than Love-The Grande Ballroom Story

Tony D’Annunzio Producer/Director



Louder Than Love is a film that needed to be made. It is a documentary that is both natural and stylized using film, photos and interviews with some of the major figures involved with the Grande Ballroom from 1966 - 1970. It has a gutsy realism that documents a time of upheaval in the American zeitgeist, a blip in the cheesy processed culture that relied on conformity and the ascendance of the status quo. It seemed that millions of young campus radicals across the country believed America needed a major overhaul. Music became a guiding force that seemed to influence every stratum of our society. It was a time of unrest, fueled by a burgeoning class of people from every race, creed and color who dared to challenge the idea of normalcy. The civil rights movement inspired the Black Panther Party, women’s liberation and children’s rights. John Sinclair’s White Panther radicalism created the scaffolding for the MC5 to explore new forms of industrial music and free speech.  It was a time of change when freedom of expression took on a brand new hue and cry. It was most evident in the ascendance Rock Music as an art form on par with the classical masters. Bach and Beethoven moved aside for the Beatles, Dylan and the Stones. For many the era signaled a crisis of materialism and the emptiness of the acquisition of wealth. It was a transformative era of spiritual awakening, our first experience of romantic love and beauty.

 D’Annunzio has awakened a sleeping beast, the remnants of our better selves before the rot set in. We aged but we did not forget. The release of this film is a sweet validation of our capacity to embrace life in the moment, to be free from the invisible shackles of a failed and punitive state and rediscover the soundtrack of our youth. It is louder than love.

Tony D’Annunzio is a renaissance man with a sense of honor and purpose. His commitment to the Louder Than Love project was impenetrable. D’Annunzio never for a second gave up his dream even at the worst of times when he was ignored or when he faced uncertain cross roads. He is man who can smile broadly and mean it. He can belly laugh out loud and get you laughing with him. He has been around the world but will talk to you like the guy next door cutting the grass and taking out the trash. He never gets chesty with a false sense of importance and he will never shoot you down with a bullet of bourgeois snootiness. He is a self-made man; his father’s son. He is a force of nature and that’s what it took to make this film happen



I’ve read that you have over 22 years of network TV including all the major networks and VH1, MTV, MSNBC, Fox. You have a diverse resume, music, arts, and politics. Can you tell me about some of the experiences in television that prepared you for producing and directing this massive historical project like “Louder Than Love?”

Sure. The experiences that I’ve had over the last 22 years have all kind of brought me to this point of making my own documentary. I got into this business 22 years ago. I was 20 years old, and I got in to it because of my love for music and my love for sports. I was at school, in college, and I just didn’t know where I wanted to go, and I found this career path. It instantly gave me incredible drive that I didn’t even know I had in me. My dad had always said to me If you find something you like, you’ll never work a day in your life. I can honestly say I’ve never worked a day in my life. I love what I do, and my love for my job has made me able to be part of some of the biggest productions in the world because of it. I don’t want to toot my own horn, but six of the last seven presidents I’ve worked on Super Bowls, on the NBA championships, I’ve worked with the Rolling Stones, I’ve worked with the Who, doing commercials for them, I’ve helped design the presentation and the stage that brought the Super Bowl to Detroit. We had an audience of 32 NFL owners in Atlanta, Georgia, and we brought our presentation down. We sold the NFL owners that chartered our place to have the Super Bowl. There’s a lot more productions that I’ve done over the last 22 years that have been all world class. It was at the 20 year mark that I realized how incredible my life had been because of this, because of my job. I was talking to one of my dear friends that I went to broadcasting school with. He got into radio, I got into television. He works for WIN in Detroit. He was able to meet and interview some of his biggest icons, and we shared that commonality through our lives. He said, “What haven’t you done?” At that point I finally realized, wow, I had done everything I said I would do.  So I think the answer to your question is the 22 years of experience led me to realize that I can do what I wanted to do originally, and I’m fortunate enough to have the ways and means to do it. Because of my love for music and because of the documentaries I knew it would take some time, so I wanted to find subject matter that would be interesting, and that subject ended up being the Grande Ballroom.

 Did you speak to Michael Moore at all?  He’s a Flint native.

You know, it’s funny because I worked with Michael for the last four or five years. He would request our crew to shoot this stuff for CNN, for HBO. I worked with him 20, 25 times over the last 20 years - always been very nice. You know what’s weird about that is that even while I was doing this production I was always hesitant to cross that line of my side project with my day job. It’s not until recently that I realized that this side project is pretty substantial, and it’s more than just a little film that’s going to come out. It’s going to have some power in it. Even in working with Michael, I never announced that “Hey, I’ve been doing this project. Would you be interested?” One time I gave one of his assistants a trailer and said if he had the time to look at it, please take a look at it. Within the last few months I’ve been contacted by him and the programmer from the Traverse City Film Festival.

They’ve got the finished work in front of them, and hopefully it will be submitted and shown in Traverse City. It wasn’t until I was really far down the path with the movie that I realized that he grew up in Flint with rock and roll and was a DJ there, and he knew all these people that I’m talking about. It probably would have been a really great interview for this project. It’s unfortunate I never really made the connection.

 Was there anyone  who inspired you during this time in life, during the network TV time?

Oh, gosh. Yeah. You know my entire adult life has been in production. These are people that I call friend. These are people who are not only my friends, but friends of my family, that know my kids. One thing you have to realize, Bo, is that when I got into production, this was the late ‘80s there were only three major networks, ABC, NBC, and CBS. Fox wasn’t even really a network at that point. Cable was coming on, but it wasn’t a 24-hour thing. It might be on for five or six hours and then it would have pay TV, a phone-in or something. When I came into this, I was young and cable was young, and so I was working for a network like MTV when they showed music videos.

Did you have a mentor?

Yes - Woody Robertson.  He became one of my nearest and dearest friends. Woody passed away recently. He had been in the business since 1963 and started with the ABC affiliate in Washington, DC.  He took me under his wings, and we were doing Lions football games back in the late ‘80s, early ‘90s. He was the director. He was not only a director for sports, but he did music videos, and broadcast television, and documentaries. He treated everyone as an equal. There wasn’t a hierarchy, of well, you’re just a PA. Everybody was involved. He’s one of many people that I was able to meet and that got me along the way. It was probably about five years ago when I worked on a documentary for Discovery that was called “Future Car,” and it was actually a pretty well received documentary. It was then I realized that a long format project was something I really wanted to do on my own, and some of the people that I worked with on that. It’s kind of wild because, like I said, I don’t feel I’ve ever worked a day in my life and yet I’ve done some of the most amazing productions. It takes moments like this, though, where I think back and think, wow, I could spend weeks telling you all the productions I was on and all the people because each one had an amazing story too. Twelve, fifteen, sixteen hours, maybe even more, a day doing these productions, you really become part of a family when you’re doing this. It’s been an amazing road, and I’m really blessed to have been a part of it. I’m grateful. It’s a labor of love instead of a 9 to 5 job.

The production community here in Detroit is rather large, but I’ve been fortunate enough where one company I worked for had an office in Vegas. I worked all over the world doing production and as I said, at a higher level. So I’ve always worked with the upper echelon of producers and production people other than cam operators and lighting directors and whatever. The common thread is that no one is in this business to fail and if you don’t come into it with a team mentality, things are not going to get done right. You have to be a people person, you have to be creative, and you have to be willing to put your time in to get the job done. I’ve been fortunate enough to work with some of the best in the business, and like I said, the people I work with are called friends too. To me, that is the one thing that I take out of all this. They’re not only just co-workers. They are people that I would like to call up and have a beer with. That’s how much I enjoy their company.

Is there an experience that stood out for you back in your time in television? Any one thing in particular that just blew you away? Like being part of a particular movie or show or documentary.

Wow. You know, this is how I’ll put that. I’ve been married for 13 years now to the point that when I come home, I barely even talk about work because I’m so excited to see my kids and my wife and stuff. My wife and I will be at a dinner party and someone will say, “Oh, what have you done?”  And any given week…Like for instance, this last week I interviewed Mitt Romney and Santorum; tomorrow I leave for Milwaukee for a basketball game. I did the Red Wings game last week. This is all stuff I’ve done in the last five days.

You know what I mean. And so I’ll start telling people about it and they’ll be like “holy shit.” The funny part about this is I’ve kept all my passes, my laminates, ticket stubs, and all this stuff. I went to school here in Southfield and I give back every once in a while. They do this thing where they’ll bring in someone who  graduated and they’ll bring me out and they’ll say, “Tony’s been in the business for 20 years,” and I don’t even say anything. I just bring out my box full of laminates, and I just dump them on the table. I’ll pull them out and I’ll go, “This is when I met President Ford, this is when I was on the field at the Super Bowl, and this is when I did a commercial for the Rolling Stones,”  - and so it’s my life - in passes and laminates. I think the one thing that sticks out for me because it’s so personal is that I met my wife there was a festival years ago called the Horn Festival which was a part of the Blues Traveler, the Black Crowes tour. I met my wife during the tour and so that changed my life. I’m happily married and I’ve two beautiful kids and a beautiful house, so that to me is the most but it isn’t glamorous or high profile.

 I was at the acceptance speech for Obama at Grant Park when he won…the first African-American president of the United States of America. I’ve been in the locker room in the World Series. I drank out of the Stanley Cup and I’ve been on the stage with the Rolling Stones. You know, I’m living’ the dream. I don’t want to make it sound like I’m bragging, but all this stuff has brought me to the point where I’m at today. If I would have tried to make a project of this nature back 20 years ago when I first started, it probably would have been a good project and fun to watch but it was all the production I’ve done and all the experiences I’ve had that have allowed me to make this movie. Although this has been a self-funded, independent project, when people see this they are going to be blow away at how beautiful it was shot, how beautiful it ended.

I’m just excited to show people because everything I’ve done to this point even has added to what I’m doing now. They were all important. But the most memorable event would be when I met my wife. That’s really changed my world.

 Love is more important than anything else.

Yeah, you know you’ve got nothing without it because I wouldn’t be able to share this with anybody, you know. My daughter’s 11 and my son’s 8. When I started doing this, I actually made a conscious effort because I saw my daughter, my son in school, you know, learning to read, learning to write, and realizing that at every point in your life you’ve got to challenge yourself. Twenty years into the business I was running out of challenges. I couldn’t have picked a worse time in the economy to make a project of this nature because nobody wanted to help fund it or help sponsor it. This was all self-funded. It was all done on my own dime, on my own time, but I challenged myself because I think that everybody, no matter where we are financially you need to challenge yourself. That in and of itself will bring about good. I saw this in my kids. I saw my son struggle with learning to read for a little bit. I saw when the light bulb when on, and he realized that, “Wow, I can do this.” So think that everybody needs to challenge themselves, even if they’ve been in the business for 10 years, 20 years because it’s important that we do that, you know. I think that’s only going to make you better.

To tackle this massive project, you must be a music lover. What music inspired you during your formative years?

Well, my memories are built around music. When I hear a song, it brings me to a point. I grew up in a big Italian family on the east side of Detroit and music was part of the day. My dad had Dean Martin, Frank Sinatra and Glen Miller records. He got married and had kids when he was older, so this was late ‘60s. My dad wasn’t a hippie; he was old school - World War II, Dean Martin, and that kind of stuff. My uncles all played accordion or piano or whatever, and whenever the family got together there was always music. I remember when my brother put on a Beatles album, and I’d never heard anything like this was blown away by it. I was only six years old. What really blew me was the Rolling Stones. Because for me the Beatles were great but the Stones were grittier and dirtier, and there was something about that I liked. The Rolling Stones turned me on to Aerosmith; who turned me on to Ted Nugent who turned me on to Zeppelin - then going backwards and listening to Chuck Barry and some of the blues that the Stones had done. It was just amazing. I can remember being down in the basement with my cousins and I can picture the needle going on the record - We Sold Our Souls for Rock and Roll was playing. The first time I heard Black Sabbath I almost shit my pants because I’d never heard music this heavy.

As a music lover when you find that band that you’re into, you start searching out. “Well, who influenced them?” There’s got to be some point where it originated. As I started doing that, all signs started pointing towards Detroit, you know, that Grande era with heavier rock and roll. It was a product of  Motown - that can’t be denied, a huge influence here in Detroit. There was this big influence of rock and roll that was going on that had a groove to it, you know Mitch Ryder. Maybe that’s the beginning of it all or Jack Scott, if you want to go back a little but farther.  

Oh, yeah, Jack Scott’s great

It seemed like the Grande gave people a place to do their own thing, to play their own music. I think up until that point there were a lot of people just being cover bands, doing the Rolling Stones, doing the Beatles, and whatever was coming down the pipe. I think the Grande inspired a lot of people. Russ Gibb was incredible - so open to whatever acts were happening in this time was , and it was a very tumultuous time, the strife, the riots. What really blows me away is that whenever I ask people about the Grande, I can see their eyes well up and they go back to this place in Detroit. We’re talking riots, Vietnam - nothing good yet there was this moment of happiness, this sense that it was the best time of their lives and it was all associated with music and the culture around it.

So the Grande let you do this stuff. You can have long hair; you can go to listen to this music. It was like, “Wow, there’s other people like me.”  There’s people in Flint, Traverse City, Holly  and wherever. It wasn’t just in Detroit. It was an urban Michigan thing that was happening.

Yeah, it was a time when great music, new music like the MC5. They played my senior party in high school in 1970. There was great music all over the place. The Michigan bands that played the Grande played Daniel’s Den, for instance. There were great venues all over the state. Kids had a chance to listen to music in a way that hasn’t been that readily accessible since.  I wonder why the Grande ascended to the top.

You know, I don’t think it was actually a climb to the top. I think that from what I’m seeing, it was the first of many. I think it was because it was Detroit. It was Detroit-based. I think that the other clubs you’re talking about all had their own little place. I think that what happened for the Grande, was, first of all, the one thing that really sticks out for the Grande was built was a ballroom in the ‘20s, so the sound and size of the place, from the way I understand it and the tapes that I’ve heard, it was  made for just a live, big band. I’ve met people much smarter than me think that the sound inside there was kind of like being inside of a Stradivarius or a really well-made guitar. It was acoustically perfect.

So if you were a good band in the Grande, you sounded great. If you were a great band inside the Grande, you sounded incredible. Because of that, it motivated you. Because this was the beginning of electrification, you know, a lot of these places you’re talking about were kind of clubs in their own right, you know. I can see that being a big thing as far as the sound systems back in the day where, you know, it was probably hit or miss, what you were coming up against. If you had a place that was acoustically perfect and sounded good, you know, I think that helped it quite a bit. I think the fact was that Russ was allowing bands to be so free. You know, you didn’t really book any cover bands there. They were looking for new acts that were playing their own music. I mean they didn’t mind if you did a cover song, but if you’re doing a cover song, you better do it in your own style. You know what I mean. You hear Motor City Burning from MC5, that’s Johnny Lee Humbert, too. I don’t know – two different songs as far as I’m concerned - both great; both incredible. The other clubs that you’re talking about I think are somewhat obscure today.

Did you ever feel like giving up, with all the people not invested?

There was no chance of giving up when I went into this project. I gave myself three to five years. I finished it in four, so I was on my time schedule. This was something that was going to get done, and I was going to do it. Now whether it’s well received, now that’s a whole different story. I was able to finish it. The one thing I’m very proud of is that it ended up being on my own terms. There were moments during this time when I thought that I needed money to do this, I needed grants; I needed sponsorships. When the doors were closed on those things, it was never a frustrating moment. It was more of a realization that this needs to be done, and it’s going to be done by me. It’s not supposed to be done by anybody else. There’s no supposed to be any corporate sponsorship for this. There isn’t supposed to be a grant that’s going to come down from heaven or a bag of money that I’m going to find on the street. This is just going to get done on my own terms.

I spent 45 minutes on a bus with BB King and talked to him about music and about Detroit. I spent almost an hour with Roger Daltrey backstage talking about music and about Detroit. I spent time with Alice Cooper and Ted Nugent talking about this. I was blown away that they accepted my interview but then I was even more blown away when most of them said, “We’ll give you 10 minutes; we’ll give you 15 minutes.”  I would look down at my watch, kind of off to the side and thought, “Holy shit. I’ve been here 45 minutes.” These people really wanted to talk to me about it. I’m almost to a fault honest about the project. You know, this isn’t sold to MTV, I don’t have the escrow release form while I was making it. They heard about the movie, they saw the passion that I put into the trailer, and they realized that the Grande meant enough in their lives that they were going to give me time out of their lives to talk about it. I was never discouraged.

Your passion is clear, and maybe that’s what turned on all these artists, that you could be so committed to your craft

The thing I realized through doing this was that, again, this came down from 20 years of being in the business is that I know what it takes to get these things done. I’m very meticulous when it comes to production, and I’m not going to sugarcoat anything. I know when people are touring, you have your couple of minutes of when you can do this, and so in order to get this job done right you have to talk the talk and speak the speak. If you’re not passionate about it, you know, just like any other human, you can sense fear and realize that “Maybe this guy really doesn’t want this interview.” That’s all I had to sell was the passion for this project, and so it became a lot easier once I had a trailer that I could show people because in this day and age, much like you contacting me, it doesn’t take much to get in contact with anybody today. You’re four clicks away on the computer, you know, from getting pretty much anybody, you know, their email address or their cell phone number and being able to talk to them for five to ten minutes. It’s just a matter of what are you going to do with that five or ten minutes? Is it going to be time wasted on their end, or are they going to want to talk?

Did you do cold calls?

No. I made sure that it was defined as far as what the process was, and that I’m an independent producer of a film and I’ve got a project and here is my storyline. Everything was done top-notch, professional. Because of the Internet, because of the computer and cell phones, everybody has their own printing press. So I’m finding today that some bloggers have more power than columnists from the New York Times because of the impact that they have, so you can’t take for granted what someone is going to do or say. I was going to do this project. In my opinion, John Sinclair, Russ Gibb, Roger Daltrey, Wayne Kramer, any of these individuals could have their own story told about them that would be phenomenal in its own right. 

Tony, how are you preparing yourself for the premier of Louder Than Love?

I can see myself inside the theater. It’s like not even looking at the screen, just looking at the people, at the audience and seeing their reactions because I’ve watched this movie like 400 times already. I just wanted to see what people’s reaction to it is. I’m very excited about this film.

I think they’ll freak out and love it. It just brings us back to a time when things were a little bit different and music mattered, and there was a civil liberties movement. There were some freedoms then that we don’t have now. It really resonates with me. How have people reacted to your project – were they supportive?

Yes, very supportive, though some folks were miffed. They were like, “Who do you think you are to do this? You aren’t even old enough to go to the Grande. I thought, “Really, are you old enough to go there?” It’s kind of like saying, you know, to not have a story about anything in history. I mean, why would you not want to tell a story like this. Because I wasn’t part of it doesn’t mean I can’t tell the story. That’s not even a good reason at all. I mean Ken Burns spent his career doing these incredible documentaries about stuff that I’m dying to know about. You don’t have anybody from the Civil War to talk about it. So when people are saying, “You didn’t go there, you didn’t know or anything.” “You’re right. I didn’t know, but I’m willing to find out, and I’m going to try to find out the best that I can. I’m going to tell, in my opinion, the best story I can. If you don’t like it, this gives other people an opportunity to go make their own movie.

This is such a massive project. It’s historical. It just clicks for me in every which way because I’m a music lover, and some of the best music in the world was there as you know. Did you have any trouble getting footage for the film, you know, footage of the period, time?

In the late 60s, early ‘70s, they used movie cameras, you know those big 8 mm and 16 mm cameras,  it was an event just to take one out. So that was a bit of a challenge. It was amazing once things started rolling and people started realizing what I was doing – it’s the beauty of the internet. I had great folks from the media support me with this project. I have a Facebook page that got a lot of people interested in the film and they started contacting me. “Hey, I’ve got this footage, I’ve got these pictures, hey I know so-and-so.” Things started coming together because of it. The footage I have of the Who at the Grande is incredible. They performed “Tommy”, it’s only three minutes but it has never been seen before.

 Tom Wright, the Who’s manager, ended up as the manager of the Grande! He actually recorded the original Tommy concert. He gave me a cassette of Pete Townsend explaining what they were going to hear. You know, nobody knew what Tommy was about. In the movie you hear Pete Townsend explaining what this is about. To me it’s chilling because nowadays we know what it’s about but you don’t know…this was like - what the hell is a rock opera? Today we consider almost any form of music to have something conceptual – but back then it was unheard of, especially from a band like the Who that was a three-minute pop-song kind of band that was doing great music but nothing in a long format conceptual thing. It was the first time that’s seen.

Did you use other media to capture the essence of the Grande?

 I have probably 500 archival photos, black and white, color pictures of bands like the MC5, Iron Butterfly, Led Zeppelin, Nugent, Chuck Berry, and Fleetwood Mac with Peter Green. One night John Mayall & the Bluesbreakers were playing, Cream was playing at Olympia and after the show Clapton came over and played with the Bluesbreakers - we have photos of that. I’ve got a lot of great stuff from the MC5. The daughter of the promoter and organizer for Goose Lake gave me a lot of great pictures. We worked out a licensing deal where she allowed me to use photos for the film.  A lot of that stuff has never been seen. I think people are really going to be blown away by the amount of research I’ve done, the songs that are involved with it, the licensed songs I got. I could have gone a hundred different ways. When I originally sat down with this it was a trade story -  so it’s all Detroit bands, not only MC5 but SRC, Savage Grace, Jagged Edge, as well as lesser known bands. Dick Wagner recorded a new song with Jimmy McCarty that we used for the final credits of the movie. He hadn’t written or recorded a song an original song in almost seven or eight years and he gave it to me!

Did you have much help in putting it all together?

One of the things I do want everyone to know is that as much as I’ve done for this project, I’m not an army of one. The ending was all done by Karl Rausch. He and I worked together on this project from day one. He saw my vision and I told him how I wanted some things, but he brought to life. I’ve been in production long enough where I shot most of the interviews but I had friends in the business that came out and shot some of them. I had one of my dear friends at Oakland University, Dr. Jason Schmidt do the interviews, the actual eye camera interviews while I was worried about the technical side of things, the cameras, the lighting, and things like that. I didn’t want to be overwhelmed by trying to come in with a camera and do everything myself. I knew enough because of my production background to bring in a nice-size crew for all this stuff. So inasmuch as it was my passion, other people in the production community believed in me enough to take time out of their lives. I was very straightforward. Hey, I  have no budget for this, but would you like to go meet Flash, or would you like to go meet Slash, or would you like to go meet Ted Nugent, and so that was a little carrot. I was very straightforward with people. Like I don’t know where this project is going to go, but if you’d help me out, I’d really appreciate it. I was definitely a labor of love on my own, but I had other people.

 Where will you be showing Louder than Love?

These are the dates that we have lined up so far: Thursday April 5th at the Detroit Art and Film Theater here in Detroit; Monday April 9th at the Michigan Theater in Ann Arbor, part of Martin Van Dyke’s movie series. I’ve been accepted to do the Chicago Film Festival which is April 12-15 and then it was accepted to the Nation Film Festival on April 19-26 and the Nashville Film Festival April 21st. I’ve been contacted by the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame and we’re looking at a screening date there at the beginning of May. There are some strong possibilities of the Traverse City one and a Mill Valley one in San Francisco as well as I just got sent out for Sidney’s film festival in San Francisco. So there are quite a few…once the first one gets out there, the other festivals kind of look at what’s going on. So I’m kind of setting myself up for film festivals that are music and documentary related so that I can get the audience. Different film festivals have different themes, and so you can’t just go to all the film festivals. There are some that are more for narrative; there are some that are for animation; there are some that are foreign film documentaries. There are literally thousands of festivals nowadays. People have really embraced independent film-making and taken it to a different level, so I’m really overwhelmed by the choices I have. Hopefully once the word gets out, it will kind of snowball and that’s what I’m anticipating.

What I’ve done in the last couple of years is appreciate that you can challenge yourself to do anything you want, no matter where you’re at in life. I honestly believe that

I believe it too. It was so nice talking to you. You’re so gracious.

When are we going to start this interview?

Yeah, I know. It’s just been way too much fun.



Peace

Bo White

Saturday, March 24, 2012

The Turtles Live @ CMU Fall 1969


The Turtles Live @ CMU Fall 1969

It takes some research and a bit of wistful thinking to try to recreate a set list and the actual performance of concert that took place over 40 years ago. I have still have Technicolor memories about this show that are incredibly vivid yet not totally accurate. I wonder what I actually experienced and if I’m simply filling in the cracks with the reassembled images of my plastic brain. The neurons are firing and my synaptic connections are stretching and contorting themselves like an aging gymnast.

Central Michigan University was still a rather small institution at the time, about 8,000 students, mostly white. However changes were afoot following the 1967 riots in Detroit, Flint and Saginaw. CMU was actively recruiting students of color, hoping to provide greater opportunities for diversity and cultural competence.

Between 1968-69 CMU booked the hottest acts in the country including Spanky & Our Gang, Blood Sweat & Tears, the Association, Sly & the Family Stone, the Cryan Shames and the Turtles – each of these bands were at the top of their game. But musical tastes were gradually shifting and expanding into genres that took on greater complexity, at least in name if not deed. Marketers would hail the next big thing e.g., hard rock, metal, progressive, folk, symphonic - but it was still rock & roll to me.

The Turtles were certainly an underrated and misunderstood band, perhaps it was their proclivity to stretch out from folk and pop to psychedelia, jazz and anti-war anthems. For god sakes they even recorded a concept album in 1968 entitled The Turtles Present the Battle of the Bands. It was their Sgt Peppers and the even left out some great 45’s (She’s My Girl, The Story of Rock & Roll) just like the Beatles when they carved out Penny Lane and Strawberry Fields from their opus.

I was eagerly anticipating the Turtles concert. I had all their LPs and their most recent 45’s and I actually played them all on my tiny modular stereo. I didn’t know any better.  It sounded just like my tiny little transistor radio. To this day I cherish those warm primitive sounds more than the loud pro-tooled analog crap that sprays the airways with more poison than a liquored-up mosquito control pilot.

I can’t recall the opening act. CMU always had an opening act, an intermission and a three song encore by the headliner. It could have been a very young Jackson Browne or Henry Gross because I saw them open for somebody somewhere…ok, so I don’t know but what I do recall is the then common practice of festival seating. This was the norm at the time, most venues did it. It went something like this - general admission tickets are sold to an unwitting public; the show starts @ 7pm; crowd assembles @ 5pm. The doors open @ 7:15pm and the crowd storms in, running, pushing and shoving to get the best seat possible. It was a harrowing exercise and proved to be fatal a few years later. It was always a bad idea.

After sprinting to my seat and body blocking a wannabe concert buff, I smiled broadly – wow, I’m pretty close to the stage – 20 rows out or so. Is that cool or what? A thought flickered –where’s my brother. He was wondering the same thing and we eventually landed together. I could feel the crowd was pumped. People were talking, laughing and singing Turtles songs. It was a good vibe

 The Turtles opened the show with The Battle of the Bands – a sweet little rocker that had plenty of cowbell. The theme was a perfect tag for most everyone at the show. Battle of the Bands contests had been around for years and musicians and fans alike had experienced it.

Two bucks a ticket, got to get with it,
On the night they have the battle of the bands.
Shine up my new shoes, kick off my old blues,
The night they have the battle of the bands.

The singers Howard Kaylen and Mark Volman were in excellent voice right from the start of the show. The audience did a unison gasp when the hit those 3 octave stratospheric vocal registers. Nobody - and I mean no one had ever sung this way before, not at any live show I attended. These cats had other-worldly gifts that they delivered in an almost nonchalant manner…as if they didn’t know just how good they were. Plus they goofed like adolescents – fake holding hands and fake grabbing ass. Volman was a natural vaudevillian, a Buster Keaton whereas Kaylen was the sardonic storyteller of greater and lesser truths like Charlie Chaplin or John Lennon.

The band focused on much of the material on their (undeclared) 1968 masterpiece The Turtles Present the Battle of the Bands. They performed the exquisite You Showed Me (the prompted many back seat romances and mash fests) and Elenore was simply breathtaking - perfect execution by the 3-piece backing of Jim Pons (bass), Al Nichol (guitar) and Johnny Barbata (drums). It was apparent that Barbata was a master and that his rhythmic patterns were both powerful and intricate. He filled spaces and accented shifts in tempo as well as keeping a rock steady beat. But it was Volman and Kaylen who sent us to another world. The vocal crescendo on the coda was otherworldly, brilliant. Surfer Dan was a sonic hats off to the Beach Boys and Too Much Heartsick Feeling was a chance for Pons to use his rich baritone. Pons’ low harmonies were strategic to the Turtles sound, a counterpoint to the dual tenor harmonics of Volman and Kaylen.

One of the highlights for me was the Harry Nielson anthem The Story of Rock & Roll. Kaylen’s vocal gymnastics were simply not humanly possible. He had the best voice in rock – everyone talked about it as if reaching those high registers were normal – only if you’re a steel worker walking a 12 inch cross beam 100 stories up - that’s not normal either. But for me it was Barbata’s sharp accents and syncopated beats that scaffold the energy of the song. It was sonic nirvana.

It was about mid-show when Volman left the stage and came jumping back onstage all greased up and do-wop’d to spoof on Lee Andrews’ chestnut Teardrops. It was stellar performance with a manic energy that kept me on the edge of the seat. I wanted more. I loved the vaudeville. I loved the energy. Mach Schau

All the hits were present and accounted for: You baby. Love it – can’t help it. Kaylen’s soaring  “You” hits my G-spot and won’t let up. It’s just too innocent sexy to resist.

She’s My Girl the highlight of the evening. It is in my opinion the Turtle’s most realized song -  soaring vocals, elusive yet accessible lyrics, soft/loud dynamics, tempo changes and incredible musicianship. Kaylen’s lead vocal was astounding – perfect. That performance alone should land him and the Turtles in the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame. But then again rock & roll should never be in a museum. It’s a oxymoron.

Bo’s Interview with Howard Kaylen:
Hi Howard
I'm preparing an article of the Turtles Concert I attended @ Central Michigan University in 1969. Could you help me recreate the set list and clarify if John Seiter was in the band at that point?


In 1969, Seiter played during the last part of the year. Can't answer depending on the month.

Bo:
It was a great show that highlighted those exquisite Kaylen/Volman vocals. In the middle of the show Mark did a spoof on fifties rock. Do you recall the name of the song (s)? I remember the hits - did you play any deeper album cuts during that time, the Ray Davies produced cuts?

The song was TEARDROPS by Lee Andrews and The Hearts. Yes we did play deeper cuts

Bo:
I recall battle of the Bands opened the show - were you doing Somewhere Friday Night, There You Sit Lonely, and Hot Little Hands? Did Setter and Nichol sing any of their songs during the 69 tour?
PS Thanks for helping me out - it's very generous

If we opened with Battle of the Bands, then we didn't do ANY of those songs. We would have done Too Much Heartsick Feeling and Surfer Dan. Big Difference. And Barbata did that show. Pleasure

Bo
Can we be best friends?




Thursday, March 22, 2012


Dave Mason

 Live @ The Ford Auditorium 

April 17th 1972



 I eagerly awaited the Dave Mason concert @ Ford Auditorium in ’72. I knew every song on his Alone Together album by heart. It was filled with astonishing rock & roll symphonies of lost love and heartache. It was a breakup album instilled with all the confusing emotions that are tangled up in saying goodbye. It is filled with anger as well as sorrow. There is an unspoken despair in the inevitable split of a relationship with someone that you loved honestly. Mason’s music resonated deeply in me for I was living that sorrow. His lyrics mirrored my unhappiness and quiet resignation. My girlfriend accompanied me to the show but she was cool and distant as if she were longing to be somewhere else. She was not a Dave Mason fan. She made that clear. So I ignored her irritation with me and just concentrated on that glorious music. Mason was in his prime, sleek, slender and handsome. Although soft spoken on the introductions, he sang his ass off with his effortless contralto. His range was a bit limited but his full bodied grainy voice was the perfect accompaniment to his songs.



 He opened with the masterful shuffle blues of Only You Know and I know. It was his most realized composition at the time – great ironic lyrics and a masterful presentation. His voice was perfect!  It was followed by the country rocker Waitin’ on You, another great song even though it faltered on the chorus. The recorded version had Rita Coolidge and Bonnie Bramlet sing the soulful backing and it simply could not be duplicated in the live show

Shouldn’t Took More than You Gave. His wah wah guitar work was extraordinary - economical yet fluid, melodic and powerful. I was having’ the time of my life, listening to my hero with my best girl by my side. And as I sensed her tension, I realized that Mason’s songs were the soundtrack of our impending breakup. Sad and Deep as You followed World in Changes and Can’t Stop Worrying; Can’t Stop Loving. Each song hit me like punch as if Mason was singing about our shared sorrow.

The mood shifted when Mason hit his stride with two of his Traffic masterpieces Pearly Queen and Feeling Alright. I was digging the music without my earlier self-consciousness. He ended with a masterful take on All Along the Watchtower – Hendrix channeling Dylan through Mason



The crisp sweet aroma of marijuana circled the room and tantalized my olfactory glands. It sure smelled good. At about this time my girlfriend lights up – only it’s a cigarette. I wasn’t a smoker but I didn’t mind. I liked it – in a sexy kind of way.  But as I looked around the auditorium, I noticed a mushroom-cloud of sweet Colombian rise from the seated throng and circle around the decorative luster of the arched ceiling. It seemed that everyone in the whole damn auditorium was smoking and passing it around like it was communal love fest. Like a silent phantom, an usher suddenly appeared from the midst of the heavy hemp fog, walked up to my girl and put a hand on her shoulder and barked “Put it out.” Well, she put it out alright and she sent me with it. She was pissed off -to put it lightly. I tried to help her see the humor and the irony – “if only you would have lit up a joint instead.” But she didn’t find it one bit funny, instead she drove to the downtown bus station and told me to find my own way home. We ended our relationship a few months later and Alone Together became my best friend. It got me through, brother…it got me through.



Segue to the Rocking on the Riverfront Concert
July 16th, 2010



Seeing Dave Mason in a recent show in Detroit is like going to my 40th Class Reunion with high expectations yet leaving with a sense of dread and an unsettling realization. I look like them. I’ve grown old like a tattered old coat – and my beloved classmates are no longer the people I remembered

.

Mason, the once serene sex symbol rock star is now a crotchety old fart with a big belly and a bald head. He looks more like a retired beer-swilling assembly line worker who moves to Florida, walks around in baggy shorts, wears a shirt that doesn’t hide his tremendous girth and turns his thermostat up to a constant 80 degrees. I don’t think Rita Coolidge or Bonnie Bramlett would saddle up with him anytime soon… unless they want to do the bump and grind with a big balding Buddha. Get religion.



Dave Mason did not age gracefully but his songs were like a rare vintage wine that gives you a warm comfortable buzz. It felt like that long overdue phone call from an old friend… when the sound of his voice evokes an inward smile that no one else could see. Mason opened with World in Changes an introspective song about longing and discovery from his 1970 masterpiece Alone Together. The guitar work is fluid and the song contains several tempo changes. He followed with Let it Go, Let it Flow, a 1978 hit that has a mellow Southern California charm that sneaks up on you.40,000 Headman, a classic Traffic song from ’68 was a real treat as he Mason was able to recreate the complex textures and time signatures. Great song. He did a note for note take on one of his biggest hits, the popish Jim Krueger composition. We Just Disagree - probably the worst song of the night. Luckily enough (for me) Mason did several songs from Alone Together including Look at You, Look at Me, Can’t Stop Worrying and his two great masterworks Shouldn’t Have Took More than You Gave and Only You Know and I Know. The original LP was released on marble vinyl. It was his crowning achievement – an entire disc about love, loss and longing. It’s about breaking up with someone you love dearly and learning that the only way out of the pain and sorrow is acceptance.

He also performed two of his greatest Traffic songs Dear Mr. Fantasy and Feelin’ Alright. Mason’s guitar work was simply stunning throughout the evening from the heavy full bodied rockin’ workout on Dear Mr., Fantasy and the sonic soaring Telecaster brilliance on All Along the Watchtower, a song he introduced to his friend Jami Hendrix back in ‘68. Hendrix recorded it at Olympic Studios forthwith and released it on his legendary Electric Ladyland LP (Mason played acoustic guitar on it). Mason incorporated it into his seventies shows and recorded it for his 1974 self titled LP. Tonight it was brilliant!

Mason puts on a tight show with a set list he’s been playing for years. I can forgive the stasis as well as his well rehearsed ad-libs. I’m sure it gets stale but people only want to hear the hits. To play new original music would be the death knell to touring sixties/seventies rock bands like REO, Styx, and Boston. The audience does not want to work too hard and hopes to leave with a pile of boozy music-fueled false memories. Yet, in the middle of the show, Mason had the temerity and a huge pair of I-don’t-give-a-damn oversized balls to play songs nobody knew (got to get beyond the seventies, brother) by cranking out Good 2 U and Let Me Go from his 2008 release 26 Letters-12 Notes. Unfortunately Mason received only polite applause for his effort. To be honest these songs did not measure up to Mason’s glorious past and served as a grim reminder of the fading arc of his star power. Onstage Mason appeared anxious and awkward as if he had lost his confidence. Perhaps he is fighting his inevitable decline and the necessary losses he encounter as he gets older. These are the things we give up in order to move on to the next stage of our lives - like youth, freedom, and experimentation. But liberation from our past glories can create the conditions for true creative freedom.
Maybe that’s what keeps Dave Mason performing and thrilling crowds with his wonderful songs and his overall craft. He’s still got the mojo; it’s just harder to notice.
At mid-point during the show he bent over to adjust the microphone stand and hit his head on it and muttered something unintelligible… it just wasn’t his day.

Peace
Bo White


Saturday, March 17, 2012

Simon & Garfunkel Live @ The Y-A-Go-Go February 1965


Simon & Garfunkel

Live @ The Y-A-Go-Go

February 1965





My wife and I attended the Simon & Garfunkel "Old Friends" concert at the Palace of Auburn Hills back in 2003. I thought about getting tickets for quite a while when suddenly the concert was only two days away. First I called my pal Bob Martin from Review Magazine. Did he get some gratis tickets and press passes? Nope.
I called Ticketmaster. They only have recorded announcements
I called "Choice Tickets"...they had tickets at each price range. And they confirmed that Saturday's show was a sellout. But what was the range -
$165 to $500
Nope that wouldn't work unless they propped up Warren Zevon to sing Excitable Boy. I just cannot afford it. I may be middle class but it’s just an outdated label and a cruel myth  that doesn’t even consider the enormous transfer of wealth to the rich.

So, being a stubborn kind a guy, I drive over to the nearest Ticketmaster outlet and they have tickets available. But the price range was way different. Their tickets must have been printed on cheaper paper 'cos they started at $59.50 - then progressed to $79.50, $149.50, and $205.50.
I thought scalping was illegal. Anyway, I got my tickets


There were plenty of tee-shirts, programs, CD's, and posters at the show and all major credit cards were accepted
Simon & Garfunkel were simply amazing. They provided a rich treasure trove of memories for all of us starchy white-haired boomers I just needed to celebrate my fading relevance one more time.

But the show was more than just memories. It was an artistic triumph of a form of composition that is so well conceived, produced, and performed that it is timeless. The show opened with the instrumental strains of "America" serving as the backdrop for a film/photo montage of American images from the sixties onward. They would use this multi-media approach a second time using clips from the film to introduce "Mrs. Robinson".

The duo opened the show with "Old Friends", a powerful song that has grown only more poignant with the passing of time. Simon wrote and recorded the song when he was about 26 years old. Now that I’m approaching sixty the lyrics resonate more clearly
"Can you imagine us
Years from today
Sharing a park bench quietly?
How terribly strange
to be seventy"



They went on to perform several other songs from their landmark 1967 LP Bookends such as "Hazy Shade of Winter", "America" (with its nod to Saginaw - more on that later), "At the Zoo", and the aforementioned "Mrs. Robinson", I loved this album as it represented an artistic shift for the duo. Their instrumentation became more complex and less folky and Simon began writing with more sharply satirical themes that balanced his morose tendencies. They performed songs their very first recording (as Tom & Jerry) "Hey Schoolgirl" and represented every phase of their brief career from Sounds of Silence and Kathy's Song to their majestic swan song "Bridge Over Troubled Waters" and "The Boxer". They even threw in "Slip Slidin' Away" - a Simon solo hit actually written by Simon with his partner in mind. They also sang "American Tune" with Garfunkel wondering during the intro "where our country is going".
And to top it off the Everly Brothers showed up midway to perform "Wake Up Little Susie", "Dream", "Let It Be Me", and "Bye Bye Love" (with S&G).
It was simply stunning...

Much better than the S&G reunion concert I attended in 1982. It was a different vibe then with Simon taking a central focus and performing too many of his solo hits to the exclusion of S&G songs and Garfunkel's beautiful voice.



But I go back even further with Simon & Garfunkel. The very first time I saw them was in 1966 at the Y-A-Go-Go - right here in Saginaw. The idea for the "Y" Teen Dances was generated by the Saginaw YMCA High School Social Committee way back in 1961. It seems that local teens had very few places that provided wholesome outlets for the social needs of young people. So beginning on September 23, 1961 teen dances were scheduled for every Saturday from 8pm to midnight. It began as a traditional record hop with Ken Clark as the resident Dee-Jay. By 1964, WKNX disc jockeys Bob Dyer and Dick Fabian took over the reins and began to add live performances to augment the recorded music. The Tempests, The Countdowns, and The Bossmen aided and abetted the change in forma, along with Go-Go Girls in their Go-Go cages! It was an exciting time to be young. And to have such impressive community support.
Only sixty-four teens showed up for the very first dance on that warm September evening in 1961 but by 1963 the Y-A-Go-Go had a regular attendance of over 1000 young adults. It was the most popular teenage dance in the early 60's (it folded in 1969).

Beginning in 1966, Dyer and Fabian began to book national acts through the William Morris agency. They had connections to this guy, Ron Sunshine, who was able to get "artists on the rise" for a good price. In quick succession they booked the Shangri-La’s, the Beau Brummels, the McCoys, the Lovin' Spoonful, Simon & Garfunkel, and The Hollies.
Each one was outstanding and deserving of their place in rock 'n' roll history
Dyer's favorite band was the Spoonful.
But my favorite bands were the local guys - Dick Wagner and the Bossmen (who were like the Beatles to me) and Jay Walker & The Jayhawkers (Jay was also a DJ at WKNX - hired by Bob Dyer).



 Jay Walker & his mates backed up Simon & Garfunkel on their first and only performance in Saginaw. They opened the show with some mighty fine Michigan rock 'n' roll. The Jayhawkers had a song on the charts entitled "To Have a Love" - it knocked me out when they performed it during their part of the show. It seemed only too soon that my heroes finished their set and I was left on my own during a brief intermission. My older brother Bill had taken me to the show but I somehow lost track of him, seemed like he was standing right next to me during the Jaywalker's set.
I was but a wee lad of 13 and my brother was a worldly 15. I was starting' to worry...what if something happened - like those Webber school kids jumping' on him or something. There seemed to be too many dark corners in the recesses of the gymnasium. But I took a deep breath and proceeded to walk real cool-like...well, as cool as a 14 year-old pimply faced dork could. When suddenly I catch a reflection in the shadows. It's the metallic shine of a young teen’s  braces as she is full-mouth kissing' my brother! A real lip lock, mashing at its finest

I was stunned yet oddly fascinated and more than a little interested - girls...hmm...so...that's how it works.

Well, I rushed back to center stage a little confused and a lot interested in things more than just music. Simon & Garfunkel finally took the stage. But they looked different, strange, not at all like me, my buddies or anyone I had ever seen or met. Simon was "small" like me so I immediately liked him. But he wore a cape and had one of them "bowl" cuts with a short set of bangs hanging' high on his forehead but Garfunkel looked like he was created in a test tube from another planet. He had a curly hair that appeared mountainous - stacked up high and all frizzled. People in the audience pointed and laughed and made rude comments.
I felt sorry for him. He looked frail and timid, even scared, I started to wish he'd come leaping off the stage to defend himself. But he didn't

Simon & Garfunkel had two definite "hits" - Sounds of Silence and Homeward Bound at the time and they performed them both. In fact they opened the show with a rocking electric version of Sounds of Silence. Only we couldn't hear them clearly except at the break when the music stops and they sing..."the sounds of silence". That was about the only time I heard their voices all night. The PA was bad and the rock 'n' roll backing wasn't quite the best fit either. They performed a few other unknown (at the time) S&G songs such as Kathy's Song, Leaves that Are Green, Richard Cory, A Most Peculiar Man, He Was My Brother. They also performed covers of a couple of Beatles songs!! And they talked about Paul and John like they were good buddies. They closed the show by singing Sounds of Silence a second time. I couldn’t argue with that, it’s a great song

Well, I enjoyed the show even though I had no inkling that the duo would become so popular and this performance would become legendary. I really liked Simon and Garfunkel partly because they were kindred spirits, so uncomfortable and so awkward just like me and yet they still had something important to say. And they did immortalize this little show in their 1967 opus "America".

Bob Dyer told me that he paid S&G $1250 for that performance on the strength of their two radio hits. Would they be a flash-in-the-pan like so many others or would go on to a successful career?
Only time would tell...



Peace


Bo White


THE BEE GEES With The Detroit Symphony Orchestra Live @ The Masonic Temple Detroit, Michigan 1973


THE BEE GEES

With

The Detroit Symphony Orchestra

Live

@

The Masonic Temple

                                       Detroit, Michigan 1973





I had a tough year or so since my girlfriend and I broke up. We were together for over six years. In a sense, we grew up together from the time I was 15 in 1967 until 1972 we spent most of our time together. Because she was a year and ½ older than me, she was like a mentor. She taught me to drive a car, camp, and make-out at the drive-in theater, the living room couch, or in the driveway of her family home. Makin’ out was pretty cool. It seemed peculiar to me that as we became physically closer, our relationship became colder and more distant. By 1972, she had graduated from Henry Ford Hospital’s School of Nursing. I was in my second year at MSU. She was slugging it out in the frontline of Ford Hospital’s Emergency Room while I was demonstrating against the war. She was maturing into an attractive and fascinating woman; I was still a kid, rocking & rolling, smoking dope and gradually adopting a counter culture life plan. Somehow we couldn’t reconcile our differences. So we agreed to part, though we would occasionally check-in by phone or meet up unexpectedly at White’s Bar when we both happened to be in Saginaw.



 I moved away in 1970 but returned in late 1976 for good, except for a 4 month trip to Oregon in 1977. Joanne returned to Saginaw briefly in the 80’s but ended up living in Detroit with her second husband until the time of her death in 1990 from a brain aneurysm. I was devastated. She was too young to go and now all those memories I shared with her would be my sole province. I hoped that I could live up to that honor. It was a daunting task for a budding alcoholic. At the time my only skill was drinking and I took to it with both fists. I wouldn’t feel the pain, no, I wouldn’t feel a thing. In 1973, I had no idea of what the future would bring. In fact, I thought I was pretty hot. I was acing all my classes and I was dating different women. The one I liked the best was over 6ft tall and since I’m all of 5’ 6”, we looked like Mutt & Jeff…was I Mutt? Anyway, students passing us on the campus trails would give us funny looks or even laugh. I guess we never really stood a chance though I was never too hooked, you see, I secretly wished to reunite with my lost girlfriend. I still carried the torch.



It was autumn of 1973, my brother Bill was back from the service having been stationed in Germany, Fulda to be exact. We were hanging out and even made plans to live together in East Lansing, never happened. But we did check out a few rock n’ roll shows before life took us in opposite directions. We both loved the early Bee Gees music and we jumped at the chance to catch their show at the Masonic Temple in Detroit. In 1973, the Bee Gees career was stalled and their early Beatlesque music seemed like a distant memory. Their last big hits Lonely Days (1970) and How Do You Mend A Broken Heart (1971) led to a series of other nice songs that were all ballads that all sounded the same.



 The Bee Gees had reached a pattern of stasis, paralyzed by their past, worried about the future, and losing track of the moment.  The band was stuck in a holding pattern, a never ending loop fit for the twilight zone. Despite their relative youth, they were becoming obsolete. But not in my eyes.  As we entered the comfortably lush and inviting main floor of the Masonic, I took time to gaze upon its grandeur. It was simply breathtaking, especially when I was used to more modest surroundings, like the Eastown on Harper & Van Dyke. So, I’m looking around and my eyes wander up above to the balcony and there, as god is my witness is former girlfriend and she’s with another man. I couldn’t take my eyes off them. “He’s probably that fuckin’ doctor she told me about.” I felt a pain, a pain in my chest…I think it was a heartache. The lights went down and I settled-in for the show.



The Bee Gees looked great. Young, trim and at the top of their game. They were no has-beens. The band was accompanied by the Detroit Symphony Orchestra and the sound was rich and gorgeous – magnificent baroque pop music, everything I hoped it would be. The music reminded me of their ’69 Masterpiece Odessa -   although they played only First of May from it.  Barry Gibb was the principal songwriter and lead singer on most of the hits. He took a center-stage prominence that could not be denied.  Robin proved to be a better singer with an oddly captivating operatic voice and incredible 3 octave range.  Robin’s vocal on I Started A Joke was simply incredible. Still Barry commanded our attention on such songs as Words, 1941 Mining Disaster, To Love Somebody and First of May. But when Robin would trade off vocals with Barry on I’ve Gotta Get A Message to You, Massachusetts, and Holiday the show really took off. Still, the show wore thin in spots, too many ballads, and Barry’s over-reliance on that whispery vibrato vocal style that he perfected on Words, after a while it was like “gimme a break, already”. Then-current hits like Run to Me, Don’t Wanna Live Inside Myself, and Alive were elegant yet repetitive ballads that all sounded the same. Maybe they just hit too close to my current state of mind. The topper was the stomping encore of Lonely Days, an elegant power ballad that starts out pretty and slow on the verses - sung in a magnificent 3-part harmony - then segues into a pounding sing-a-long chorus. Robin was beside himself, leaping to and fro in an odd dis-rhythmic convulsive dance across the stage, getting the audience to clap along - finally, signs of life! The show ended on a rousing note. The Bee Gees proved to be a magnificent live band and despite their best efforts, they put on an almost lackluster show. Perhaps it was the ambivalence amongst the brothers, the need for new direction. In 1973, the disco craze was about two years away and the Bee Gee’s rebirth was only a wish.  Then again, it may have been my own ambivalence about my life and about love that dampened the experience. I’m not sure. But when the show ended and the house lights came on, I looked up to the balcony.

And she was gone…



Peace,

 Bo White