Tribute to a Mixed Tape #3

Text © Robert Barry Francos
Videos and images from the Internet

This was a cassette tape that I believe I put together in the mid- to late-‘80s. The videos (when available) that follow are not necessarily the versions on the tape, but it’s the closest I could find. As usual (but not always), my tapes are a mix with no general theme, just random songs I really liked at the time (and most likely still do).

SIDE ONE:

Tom Paxton - Last Thing on My Mind
This is, indeed, one of folk legend Paxton’s best known songs. It’s a beautiful and melodic heartbreaker, with a lilting minor-key chorus for emphasis. “Well, I coulda loved you better / Didn’t mean to be unkind.” What I like about his is that it doesn’t blame anyone, as he is willing to accept his own fault in the fail of the relationship.

Get Wet - Morton Street
One of the strongest songs on their album, and one of the few not weighted down by bad production, this is another powerful piece about a woman in love with a gay man who leaves her to go cruising. Sherri Beachfront’s voice cuts through the listener like a razor of heartfelt pain as she cries out, “Don’t go down to the piers tonight!” This video was taken at the Ritz at a Girls Nite Out show, and yes, I was there! I was so happy to see that this video existed, and I highly recommend playing some of their other songs, as well. And check out my interview with the band in the preceding blog.

Paula and Carole - Open Window Song
I’m not quite sure what is the appeal to me about the music from this children’s program, The Magic Garden, but it seems I know a lot of rockers who agree. Carole was actually the original Sandy Dumbrowski on Broadway (if you have to ask…). There is just something appealing about their voices. Amazingly, I could find lots of videos from the show, but not this song!

Jennifer - Time is On the Run
Way before she was Jennifer Warnes, she was known simply as Jennifer. I first fell in love with her rich voice during a Smothers Brothers reunion show, and then through her co- and back-up work for Mason Williams and Leonard Cohen. When her breakthrough Right Time of the Night album came out in 1976, I was fortunate enough to see her play at the Bottom Line. This particular song, from her second album, released in 1969, is backed merely with percussion; it bops and bounces silkily along in a nearly a capella staccato.

Keith Carradine - It Don’t Worry Me
This tune is from the amazing soundtrack to the film Nashville. The One of Altman’s best (in my opinion), but the soundtrack is almost its own entity, as these cuts rarely appear in the film in same production. As a “various artists” release, it stands on its own, with gems by the likes of Ronee Blakey, and this subtle slice of Americana. It sounds like it could have been written by Woody rather than the son of John. Right from it’s start, it has a powerful image: “They say this train don’t give out rides / But it don’t worry me.” While Keith had a hit with another song (see later), this one is just as good. Barbara Harris sang it in the film.

Beatles - While My Guitar Gently Weeps
This is as much a Beatles song as is “Yesterday.” It is solid George Harrison at his best, and heaven knows I’m not the first one to expound this. And I certainly feel no need to go on and on; the song speaks for itself.

Harry Chapin - Caroline
Not only could Harry tell a great song story of disenchantment, loneliness, and despair, he could also present a beautiful love ballad. This is, if you will, his equivalent of S&G’s “For Emily Whenever I May Find Her.” He explains how fleeting his relationship with her as she “Whispers her words / Saying she'll always love me / At least when we are together.”

Buffy St.-Marie - Universal Soldier
I first learned this song as a child at Camp HES, around the time the Vietnam “war” was just heating up and protest songs were becoming big (we also learned Phil Ochs “Draft Dodger Rag”). Buffy has an unmistakable voice, but what appeals to me is just the sheer dedication she projects. If you’ve ever seen her perform, the woman is solid sincerity. Her “Now That the Buffalo’s Gone” is just as amazing.

Lucy Simon - If You Ever Believed
While her sister Carly garnered most of the fame, I always enjoyed Lucy’s voice and songwriting better. She came out with two solo albums in the ‘70s, and both are gorgeous. This song is another of longing, as are many on this tape, letting her ex- know, “Hey, if you ever believed / Then come back to me / There’s someone who needs you.” It’s pleading without whining, a rare feat. Recently, Lucy wrote the score to the play “The Secret Garden,” but I’d love to hear more of her as herself.

Get Wet - Single
Shari Beachfront’s beautiful voice is in fine form, as is her “theatricality”. She told me she acts out her songs as she’s singing them, and this is one that shows a wide, wide range as she changes keys upward a couple of times only to be even more mournfully reinforcing that she’s “back to single.” Along with “Morton Street,” this shows her wide range and talent as a performer, as well as singer.

Seeds - Can’t Seem to Make You Mine
Okay, this has to be the whiniest song in the history of rock’n’roll, but also one of the great rhythms. Just recently it started to be used in some TV commercial, though it had also been covered years ago as one of the early solo releases by Alex Chilton (who possibly did it even whinier!). The exclamations of pain between each line of the stanzas are both wrenching and humorous at the same time. When Sky Saxon sings, “Can’t you see what yer doin’ to me / You fill my heart with-a misery / With every breath, every step I take / I’m more in love with you,” the listener can feel it in a palpable way.

Standells - Sometimes Good Guys Don’t Wear White
From the first time I heard this song in the early ‘70s (played to me by Bernie Kugel), I found it to be a better song than “Dirty Water,” which in itself was an amazing release. The Standells were great when it came to musical catch-phrases, and “SGGDWW” is definitely one of them. All you have do is hear that beat and know what song it is. And the use of lyrical rhyme all works, with the tongue-twisting “I’m a poor boy born in the rubble,” as they ask important social questions, such as “Good guy, bad guy, which is which / The white collar worker or the digger in the ditch / Man, who’s to say who’s the better man / When I’ve always done the best I can. ”

Zombies - Tell Her No
I had almost forgotten about this song until I heard a very early version of the Nervus Rex (their first show) play it, and had an “oh, yeah,” moment. I went out and bought it soon after. The Zombs had bigger hits with the trippy “She’s Not There” and “Time of the Season,” and they are both rightfully standards, but this early Mersey Beat-style release is no less interesting (sort of like Deep Purple and “Hush”). ”

Keith Carradine - I’m Easy
This won the Oscar for best song of the year, and while I don’t always like the winners, this one is just fine. Keith’s trembling voice over the melody is sort of like a bird hugging the wind. His musical career never went much further than the Nashville soundtrack, but it’s still a legacy of which to be proud.

Lucy Simon - Pavane
Lucy’s soaring vocals hum along to Gabriel Fauré s classical piece that has no lyrics, but she still makes the piece into a showcase for her voice. One can easily find “straight” versions of this on YouTube, but I still prefer Lucy’s.

SIDE TWO:

Lucy Simon - From Time to Time to Time
Remembrance of a first, innocent, childhood love is explored with fond memories and smoky imagery that is a smile-raiser. She remembers walking along the beach, holding hands, and that he wasn’t very tall, but mostly that she still thinks of him from…well, the title says it.

Get Wet - Just So Lonely
They were just so close to making it, it’s heartbreaking. Here’s a clip of Sherri lip syncing on some TV show. GW looks at the more pop side of “low-wow-wow-wow-wow-nliness” in their playful style. While I was more fond of their more baroque tunes like the two above, they also had a flair for the “bounce.”

Bob Gibson & Hamilton Camp - Well, Well, Well
The version on my tape is a live cut from the 1965 Newport Folk Festival. Spirituals were big back then, as were duos like Joe & Eddy. Singers Bob and Hamilton (a Canadian who was also a commonly seen actor in the ‘60s and ‘70s on such shows as a classic The Mary Tyler Moore Show and Love, American Style) blend their voices in a warning and sobbing style that both harmonizes and plays off each other in amazing ways.

The Cramps - Bikini Girls With Machine Guns
One of the last great Cramps songs to show off their rhythmic nuances and flair, this is silly, but remains a true vision of their philosophy (“I’ve got my own ideas about the righteous kick / You can keep the reward, I’d just assumed stay sick”) Ivy’s guitar playing here is in top form, as well. For the video, ironically, some of the lyrics had to be changed (“Drag racer on LSD” to “Drag racer from Tennessee,” and “bare-assed on top of the Sphinx” to “bare-backed”), even though images of bestiality (“I even had a gorilla on the slopes of Kismet”) and the message remain.

Iggy Pop and Kate Pierson - Candy
At the start of the song, Iggy states “It’s 1990…it’s been 20 years.” Well, next year will be 40, but I digress. This is based on a true person in Iggy’s life, and the song definitely shows the soft side of a very hard (i.e., muscular) man. Kate Pierson gives a fine turn as the object of the song and showing her non-B-52’s side (as she also did with REM’s “Shinny Happy People”). She goes full out, as does Iggy, with his limited range. Their work together here is what makes the song for me. And, hopefully, her pretty face isn’t going to hell.

Jefferson Airplane - Somebody to Love
While I’m not into much of the Haight-Ashbury experience, the Airplane had a sound that connected with me. Grace Slick has always said that she has a limited range, but she uses it to full force here. While not as subtle as “White Rabbit,” it’s still a signpost for the love generation.

Lyons and Clark - I Thought I Would Try
A one-album group from the mid-‘70s, this sort of fell into my hands when the record company gave me a copy while I was waiting to interview some douchebag, which made the whole experience worth it. I don’t think it will ever be released in CD form, so occasionally I pull this LP out and just play it from cover to cover. This song is one of the cream-on-top-ers of an album of cream. They remind me of the Murmurs, with lush harmonies and meaningful lyrics, which are sentimental, but rarely mushy. Enjoying singing, writing and musicianship, and yet not over produced. A winner that was lost in the mix, for sure.

Harry Chapin - She Sings Her Songs Without Words
Another Chapin love song that is gentle and melodic, something Chapin used rarely, but effectively.

Roy Orbison - It’s Over
The man has a freakish voice, and I mean that in a positive way. This is such a classic, that all I can say is, just listen.

The Cynics - Summer’s Gone
One of the very early songs by this underrated post-garage band from the Pittsburgh area. Before they went a bit harder toned (and still sounding great), there was this period of psychedelic garage sound that was wispy with lots of middle notes and harmonies. Of that period, this remains one of my favorites of the band. Of course, my middle period topper is “Girl, You’re On My Mind,” but that should be obvious.

Cheepskates - Run Better Run
Shaun Flaubert led this garage band from the ‘80s revival period, and the Cheepskates were one of the key figures on the scene. I saw them often on bills with the likes of the Tryfles and the Vipers. “Run Better Run,” again, has a great musical phrase that will stick to you for long after its listening. Nowadays, Shaun works with Dave Rave and Gary Pig Gold, and is still worth checking out. Note that the song appears after the interview:

Elvis Costello - Alison
I was never a big fan of early Costello, actually, though I saw him play MSG with the Replacements opening for him (Hi, Nancy!). “Watching the Detectives” was okay, but this was the only song of his that I liked from first listen. And of all the many versions of it, his remains my favorite.

The Scruffs - When Donna Romances
This Tennessee band never achieved A-level, but this non-LP single gets played more than their album on my turntable. Again, I don’t know if this will ever see CD-hood, but it’s a good pop-in-a-‘70s-underground-vein listen. They’d make a good double bill with the Slickee Boys.

The Seekers - Another You
Another song I first heard as a child in camp. It was on the radio constantly, and then disappeared. I didn’t remember who did it, so I never sought it out. Eventually, I found out it was the Seekers and went out and got it years after the fact, in the mid-‘70s (around the time I discovered the Ramones). From Australia, they had a distinctive folk-based pop sound, elevated by Judith Durham’s soaring vocals. It’s still a beautiful thing to hear.

Paula & Carole - See Ya
The perfect way to end this tape.

GET WET, Wild and Wonderful

Text and photos by Robert Barry Francos; interview by RBF and Alan Abramowitz
Interview text © FFanzeen; Photos © RBF; cover sleeve image from the Internet

The following article originally appeared in FFanzeen Number 5, which was issued in 1980. The intro and outro text is from 2009.

I do not believe it would be accurate to say that I had a crush on Sherri Beachfront, the lead singer of the group Get Wet, but I will admit that I thought she was an amazing and exotic looking woman. In the times I saw the band play, I don’t think I’ve ever taken a picture of her that was factual enough to capture her looks. In fact, I’ve never seen any photo that did that honor.

Alan Abramowitz joined me the first time I saw the band, at a co-gig with Brenda Bergman, a shared bill these friends would often partake. And frequently, Alan and I would be in the audience.

It was the music that kept us coming back, though. Get Wet’s songs, written by co-member Zecca Esquibel, had a strong pop backdrop with a mixture of Motown and Connie Francis, if one can picture that. Their songs ranged from happy (“Lucky You”) to sad (“Lonely”) to downright desperate (“Morton Street”), to a powerhouse encore of Sherri in crinoline doing a cover of “Where The Boys Are.” Sherri could belt out a number that could be felt on a Richter scale.

Alan and I interviewed Sherri and Zecca at their apartment in the West Village, before we all headed out to the opening night party at the Ritz on 11 Street, which became known as Webster Hall.
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GET WET, Wild and Wonderful (Issue 5, August-September 1980)
By Alan Abramowitz and RBF; original intro by AEA (not included here)

FFanzeen: Zecca, what’s your history – before you were a member of Cherry Vanilla’s back-up group a few years back, the Staten Island Band?

Zecca: That’s a long story. I played piano as a kid. I did a lot of piano competitions ... and always with a sharkskin suit.

FF: Was this in America?

Zecca: This was in the States. I came to the States [from Brazil – ed.] when I was seven. And when I was 14, I just OD’d on this classical piano trip and left home, hitchhiked to New York a few years later, goofed around ... I joined a band called the Jimmy Castor Bunch. I was very unhappy with that. And a friend of mine said Cherry Vanilla needed a piano player that played rock’n’roll. I didn’t know what their kind of rock’n’roll was about, so I went to the audition and just faked what I could remember hearing off their record.

FF: How did you eventually evolve into Get Wet?

Zecca: Well, the Staten Island Band dissolved only a month after I joined, so it was just me and Cherry. There was nobody else. We lost all our musicians. I think they’d all gone to [David] Johansen. So we had a howling gig up in the mountains and we had three days to come up with a band. We picked up Manny Mancuso, Jay Napp – who is now with the Boyfriends – Louis Lapore and, in three days, we had a band. From that we fragmented even further. Me, Cherry, and Louis were from New York and eventually met Howie Finkel. And out of that band, we have Howie Finkel on bass and Manny Mancuso on drums. The first three out of the five members of the Cherry Vanilla Band that’s on the first album [Bad Girl on RCA, 1978 – ed.] formed Get Wet.

FF: Sherri, what’s your rock’n’roll history?

Sherri Beachfront: My rock’n’roll history is very small. I was just singing backup in two groups for three months in, unfortunately, what was a real job gig. That’s where I met Zecca and that was my first rock’n’roll stage scene. First time, I was in Max’s Kansas City. I had taken vocal training before that and stopped, and that’s it. And I had a job singing on a tape. I invited [Zecca] to the studio because he thought I could only sing backup vocals. “I could do it; really, I can sing, I can sing.” So I invited him down to Electric Ladyland to [let him hear me] tape for certain producers and lead vocals for what, ten hours?

Zecca: Eight hours.

Sherri: Yeah, one song for eight hours, and finally we finished. And Zecca walked out and said, “Yeah, you can sing – you can sing real shitty songs real good.” And then we decided that we have something worth it because I knew we did. I didn’t believe it took so much work. After that, he spent Labor Day weekend writing tunes for Get Wet, but that time it was for my voice. Get Wet wasn’t even a name yet or anything. It was just, “Play tunes for Sherri and what I had in mind for Sherri,” and he saw me getting my vocals out the same way I do. He saw I always wore gloves and had a lot of physical gestures on stage.

FF: How did you finally get around to picking the name Get Wet?

Sherri: We’d finally decided that after a week or something. We didn’t have a real concept or visual or anything, so we just tried to figure out a way something would relate to the group as much as we could discover, and what we discovered was that we were drenched (with sweat). We were really very wet. So we said, “Wet.” Then we said “Get Wet” so we might have the audience participate with the band – and it was final.

FF: I see advertisements all over the place for Wet magazine that reads, “Get Wet.” Has anything erupted from that?

Sherri: They were a little irritated with us. They got in touch with Interview magazine, and they gave them our phone number. The first phone call wasn’t all that irritated; it was just “We know you’re alive.” The posters uptown were getting scratched (by our fans) ... “Magazine” was being scratched out. They got in touch with us and we met each other. Then we did posters (for a club), but our “W” was the same as the magazine’s “W” and we got another phone call from them telling us not to use that “W” anymore. We told them it wasn’t our idea; it was the club’s.

FF: You seem to be very influenced by rhythm and blues, sixties rock, and the Motown sound.

Zecca: Well, I grew up in Washington, DC, and that is a predominantly black city. To be white in Washington meant one of two things: you live in the affluent corridor from Georgetown Northwest – that slice of Washington – or you were a white in a black neighborhood. I grew up sneaking in the back of places like the Howard Theatre and the Loew’s Palace Theatre to see eight soul bands back-to-back in a soul show. And that was the music I fell in love with. Gladys Knight, the Temps, etc. All those kinds of bands and a lot of times, six, seven, or eight (bands) in one night. A Soul Spectacular. The first record I remember hearing was “Baby Love.” I heard a neighbor play it. Now, that’s not that far back. It’s just that until that time I listened to nothing but classical music, so I didn’t hear too much of anything else besides that, unless I snuck out of the house and went somewhere.

FF: How have you incorporated that into what you do today? Do you have any trouble getting a transition going?

Zecca: No, I remember hanging around with Bruce Foxton from the Jam, and he was talking about what the Jam were doing, about getting back to the roots of the music; that that was the most important thing. They loved to play that kind of pop music. I couldn’t understand why his kind of roots didn’t make any sense to me. Then I realized that his roots were totally different. I didn’t grow up on the Who; I grew up on Otis Redding and James Brown. So the minute I realized that, everything was easy, everything snapped right. It was a natural groove. It was not, “How come my group sounded different from everyone else”; this was the natural groove where I belong.

FF: Have you ever seen The TAMI Show?

Sherri: What is it?

FF: It’s a film of, like, great rock’n’roll groups in 1965: the Dave Clark 5, the Rolling Stones, Barbarians, Jan and Dean, the Supremes, James Brown – the best I’ve ever seen him. He throws himself on the floor and fights with the Flames (his backup group) to keep possession of the stage. They play it at Max’s between sets. They show the same clip all the time of the Supremes singing “Baby Love,” and it’s a little off-sync.

Zecca: You mean that clip that they’re showing at Max’s is from The TAMI Show? We were tuning up while they were playing it. Behind the curtain, we wanted to really see this. We couldn’t go out and watch because we were busy backstage. That whole kind of show is ... the word “show” is weird because in the punk bible it could almost sound like an insult. “It’s not real, man. You’re putting on a show. A show is not real.” But those are some of the most realistic theater experiences I ever saw as a child – watching the show of James Brown singing a ballad; singing, “It’s A Man’s World.” The guy really reached inside himself in some incredible way that was not cheapened by the fact that he did it the best he could.

FF: What gave you the idea of doing “Where The Boys Are” as a finale?

Sherri: I just started singing it one day and he said do it.

FF: Everybody goes crazy when you do it.

Sherri: It still shocks me when they do this. Either they think it’s a new song that’s really good or it’s trippy because nobody’s done it but Connie. It’s a beautiful song. The first line in that song really grabs you.

FF: I knew the set was over when you did that.

Sherri: It’s good for a closing ... I like it; it’s a real sum-up of the show.

FF: What impressed me is “Which Window.” The chorus has a great hook that, two or three days after hearing it, you catch yourself singing it.

Sherri: That’s the one that seemed to go over well on WPIX-FM. When they played (our demo) tape, we got a phone call to play “Which Window” again.

Zecca: That’s what a pop tune should be.

Sherri: Ya know, the first time I sang it like if I had to sing with the notes I’d fall apart. All I did was pretend I was in a movie. That was the first way I could get myself into it. It’s a very emotional song. And I used myself as a vehicle for the song. Because it as a weird song, all the hard rockers were there and I was afraid for my neck what would happen to me.

FF: People are opening up. It’s not like, “Gonna kill, gonna kill.” Now that’s settled down a little and people are getting more to the pop side of things. And songs like “Where The Boys Are” are starting to catch on. And people are dancing again.

Sherri: Seems like there’s an obvious change going on here. It’s like disco broke New Wave in. It was just a passageway to what we have now. Like when Get Wet gets a break, we don’t have to do anything that’s disco-related. We’ll be accepted as rock’n’roll you can dance to. We won’t have to do a disco-beat song in order to get a good deal or to get a popular record like “Which Window.” It certainly is good to get ahead in rock’n’roll, but we won’t settle for something out of the disco crowd.

FF: It’s a bigger catch-song than “My Sharona,” which is not meant to insult you.

Zecca: It’s a funny thing. Someone yelled at me when we were playing at the Meadowbrook. This guy was decked out like 1977 and he leaned over the railing, all in black – really punked out – and made a face using a beer can, and I thought, he must have seen this in a movie. And he’s yelling, “Your ears are governed by the charts.” And I was thinking, so are Paul McCartney’s. Charts are a totally irrelevant thing. Your ears ... you hear what makes you happy. When I started writing these tunes we decided we’d risk making the music we really like, no matter what anybody said about it. And it was weird to get the most negative reaction from the most negative people.

Sherri: To our music?

Zecca: Yeah.

Sherri: We didn’t get a bad reaction.

Zecca: No, the first night we played, no.

Sherri: Max’s, we had a great reaction.

Zecca: It’s weird to know that there’s this whole system that preaches belief in negativity. When something positive comes around it can’t give it enough freedom to exist, because being negative is hip: “positiveness should be stamped out.” I noticed that at a lot of places.

FF: Have you had any trouble in the places you’ve played?

Sherri: The only place is the New York Connection; we were three months old and punk was so popular that there was no way you could do anything but that. But Max’s always loved us. The only time Max’s was bad to us was this last time – we had three really shitty ... punks. Shootin’ up dope in the bathroom. With some slob of a girl who comes over to me and says, “This isn’t music, your show sucks,” so I squirted her in the face with my squirt gun [laughter]. She threw her scotch on me and I told the bouncer that I didn’t want her near the stage, but that was the only time I got a bad reaction in a club. And then there are just people that like to make noise ... Jordache punks/drunks. There are people that like to make noise about everything – sort of frustrated souls.

Zecca: And we’re going to continue doing the positive music because it’s what everyone needs.

FF: Do you feel that having a woman fronting the band really changes its appeal?

Sherri: You mean as an asset? Well, this is a very anxiety filled lot because Blondie broke it for women in rock’n’roll. Then you have solo artist like Ellen Foley, Pat Benetar ... and the Pretenders. I love Chrissie Hynde because she’s female and a total musician and I really respect that. And for me, I want to be a member of the band. I don’t want to come out as Debbie Harry and get a little upset at the thought of, “There I am a female singer who doesn’t play any instrument,” but my roots and my feeling is to act – I perform my songs. I don’t just use my voice, I use my heart and I use my vision as a total instrument and, of course, there’s a lot of focus on me, but I still want to be a person in a band. I wanna be Get Wet; I just don’t want to be Sherri Beachfront. I got plenty of time for Sherri Beachfront.

Zecca: I don’t think it’s much of a turn-on to be on stage with musicians who are so far behind you that they deserve to be your backup musicians. It’s much more of a turn-on to know that the people on stage with you are your equals.

Sherri: It took so many years that I wanted to do this. I wanted to be a singer and I went through musicians and musical directors. I didn’t have this kind of relationship with (Zecca) – not that he was my boyfriend – on a musical level. There was reason to work with him because we had the same tastes, which is very hard to find. We have the same ability to communicate, intellectually and musically. We have a very good musical marriage.

FF: Any offers to sign with a label?

Zecca: Yeah, we got a couple of offers. I don’t know what to say about that.

FF: Would you rather sing or have your own independent label?

Zecca: We thought about it, but not too seriously.

Sherri: It seems so unfeasible.

Zecca: We’re still worried about fixing notes on the piano. It’s kind of absurd to think about scraping together enough money to put out a single. So basically, we’re looking towards the big record labels.

Sherri: We have been going to managers and checking out all sorts of leads. We’ve been giving out our tapes like crazy.

Zecca: We’re looking for managers more than anything else at the moment. We’re looking for that fifth Beatle; that team member who’s going to feel like a team member. It’s very important to do it on vibes that rate as well as every other one. To really find someone that you feel is your buddy, is in your team with you and is not somebody strapped on just to help smooth out some rough places. He’s going to be another one of us. And we’re looking for that person.

FF: Do you want people to dance to your music or listen to it?

Sherri: Dance! We want them to be part of it. That’s why we’re called Get Wet; it’s an action.

FF: How do you feel about playing at places where people can’t dance?

Zecca: When I was a kid, the best thing I could say about a band was that I didn’t sit down all night. That was the most exciting thing. The minute that guy in the wings was coming out from behind and when that band or that act or that man or woman hit that stage, I was up there standing and dancing all night. That was the highest point, the best thing that could happen. That’s what I dream of, too. Putting a band together that, the minute we walk out, everyone’s dancing. And then when we leave they want more.

FF: Is there any one band now that you like a lot?

Zecca: We used to see Brenda Bergman a lot. We’d be dancing all night to that. The last time we saw her was at the Mudd Club. She’s got both a Motown and pop song beat at the same time. Irresistibly delicious.

FF: She used to work for the Metropolitan Museum of Art.

Sherri: I can’t imagine that. I can just see her posing in one of the cases in the fifties section doing cheesecake.

Zecca: Calendar pix.

FF: What’s your message, quote-unquote?

Sherri: Death to negativity.

Zecca: Yeah, death to negativity.

FF: Yeah, I think that a good ending. And besides, it’s five to nine and the show starts at ten.
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They finally did get a record deal with Boardwalk Records and put out their one and only eponymously titled album. It did not succeed, mainly because it did not present an accurate picture of the band’s sound. As with the Nervus Rex album, the production on the Get Wet release, produced by Phil Ramone, was in high-gloss form (as was the modus operandi of the larger record companies caught between the disco and Brit synth-pop periods), stealing whatever energy, roughness, and spark made the band unique. There was still some power left in “Morton Street,” but most of the other songs, including the showstopper, “Where the Boys Are” and “Which Window?” were left limp through no fault of the artists. The record got lost in the glut of the major’s vision of the New Wave zeitgeist, which was actually tied more to the wallet than the music.

Sherri and Zecca are divorced now, with Zecca involved in a same-sex relationship, and Sherri an AIDS activist on the West Coast.

Meanwhile, thanks to singer/chanteuse Kathy Zimmer, I have managed to hoop up again with Zecca, and thereby Sherri. Here is what Zecca recently “Facebook’d” me, in part, in a manner to catch up:

“I was just in D.C. with my lover Tom Smith, for the HUGE National Equality March where, coincidentally, Sherri was the MC for the Fight AIDS Rally on the Ellipse in front of the White House! 48 hours earlier, my Tom held a press conference on the steps of Brooklyn Borough Hall with Borough President Marty Markowitz, re. Tom's founding of the multi-million dollar Brooklyn LGBT Community Center (like the one on 13th street in Manhattan). Can I pick 'em or what?! Meanwhile, after five years touring with Garland Jeffreys (ending 2007), I've basically left the rock stage for the theater. I was just in San Fran. with John Kelly and have a show coming up at the Gershwin Hotel with Hattie Hathaway on Nov. 10th. My life now is as a music director for radical nightclub and the kind of theater that, in the ‘60s, would have been called "avant-garde", so I don't work on original CDs.”