The following article on 1960s music icon Tommy Boyce was originally published in FFanzeen magazine, issue #14, in 1986. It was written by Nancy Foster.
Around 1985, I was hanging out at Nancy Foster’s apartment on Third Avenue, just south of 14th Street, listening to some music. While the building had once been a high class high rise, now it was a bit of a roach-infested hovel. We had gone out to dinner, as we often had, and she was waiting on a visitor.
A ring of the bell, and Tommy Boyce was at the door. We all hung out for a little bit and joked around, and then I took some pictures, none of which came out well (it was a darkly lit room, and I had no flash yet). After a few minutes, I left Nancy to interview Tommy for the following piece.
Sidney Thomas Boyce, suffering from some physical and mental ailments, pulled a Del Shannon and did himself in with a gun almost a decade later, in 1994, but the music he wrote and inspired keeps on going. – RBF, 2011
What do Jay and the Americans, Paul Revere and the Raiders, the Monkees, the Lettermen, The Sex Pistols, Showaddy Waddy, the Darts, among many others, have in common? They all recorded songs written or co-written by Tommy Boyce.
It’s not surprising that Tommy co-wrote, with partner Bobby Hart, the theme to Dick Clark’s Where the Action Is, but the fact that they wrote the theme for that long running soap opera The Days of Our Lives is outrageous.
Talking to Tommy Boyce is fab and fun – like taking a crash course in pop. There are a lot of great stories out there, and he got a million of them.
Tommy Boyce’s first hit came when his father told him, “Write a song for Fats Domino and call it ‘Be My Guest’.” This was a hot tip. The phrase comes from the song “Sea Cruise”: “Be my guest / You got nothin’ to lose / Won’t you let me take you / On a sea cruise.”
So, Tommy wrote the song in 1959 and called Imperial, Fats’ record company. The guy at the record company said, when Tommy suggested the idea, “Fats won’t like it.” Well, Tommy wasn’t satisfied with that. A friend in the industry told Tommy the name of Fats’ hotel, so Tommy went, demo in hand, and waited in the hotel lobby for six hours. When he finally gave up his vigil, he walked out, only to bump into Mr. Domino himself.
Tommy was beside himself: “Uh – Mr. Domino – uh – I have a – uh – song for you. I know – uh – you’ll like it. Just – uh – listen to it. That’s – uh – good enough – uh – for me. My God! – uh – He –uh – touched it!”
One of Fats’ bodyguards tried to cut Tommy off, and the man himself spoke: “Let the boy talk. I like how the boy talk. Calm down, boy!”
So, Tommy gave Fats the demo and Fats promised to give it a listen. The record company contacted Tommy a few weeks later with the good news: Fats would record it. Even better news – Fats had a hit with it soon afterwards.
But then the drought hit. No hit for two years. So Tommy checked out Billboard and Cashbox. There he noticed something pertinent – the songwriting team of Doc Pomus and Morty Shuman had three hits in the Top-Ten! “Wow!,” thought the budding pop god. “If anyone knows the secret of writing hit songs, they must!” Tommy saved his money and made a 3,000 mile trek to find the key to songwriting.
When Tommy arrived in New York City, he hung out at the Brill Building. Then he approached Doc and Morty at their fave teatime hangout. “I wrote one hit and I can’t seem to do it again. I came 3,000 miles to find out the secret of writing hits.”
The answer was simple: “The title.” With this valuable information, Tommy had a hit three months later with “Pretty Little Angel Eyes,” sung by Curtis Lee. Tommy mixed the doo-wop of “Blue Moon” with the romance of the Everly Brothers’ “Ebony Eyes,” to come up with the world’s first romantic doo-wop record with a white guy singing lead and black guys singing back-ups.
Tommy had some solo singles: “Sweet Little Cathy,” followed by “I Remember Carol,” in 1962. In 1964, Jay and the Americans had a hit with “Come a Little Bit Closer,” a by-then-songwriting-team Boyce & Hart composition.
Then, the men behind the Monkees wanted Boyce & Hart to put their musical Midas Touch on the Monkees’ first album (The Monkees). They wrote the TV theme, “I Wanna Be Free,” “Last Train to Clarksville,” “Tomorrow’s Gonna Be Another Day,” “This Just Doesn’t Seem to Be My Day,” “Let’s Dance On,” “Gonna Buy Me a Dog,” etc., as well as added their production know-how.
Yet, it wasn’t all “peaches and cream” behind the scenes of the Monkees. Mickey was fooling around during the recording of “Last Train to Clarksville.” Tommy chastised Mickey and the air turned blue. Mickey returned in kind saying only he could sing the song right. Tommy left the studio and Mickey kept his promise, and such is the way great hits are made.
After leaving the Monkees' songwriting stable, Boyce & Hart, the reflex hitmakers, had three albums on their own on A&M Records, as well as writing the theme to the film Where Angels Go, Trouble Follows.
In 1975, five years after the Monkees’ demise, David Jones had the idea to put together a new version of the Monkees, with Mickey Dolenz, Tommy Boyce and Bobby Hart. He could not get the legal rights to use the name “Monkees,” so the group of Dolenz, Jones, Boyce & Hart was born. It was so successful that they did a year-long international tour and put out two albums, one studio and one live in Japan.
After the tour, Tommy decided to visit London. He planned to stay a few weeks and ended up staying nine years.
A band called Showaddy Waddy (the British Sha Na Na) recorded religious version of Curtis Lee’s “Pretty Little Angel Eyes” and “Under the Moon of Love.” Then Tommy got together with Richard Hartley of The Rocky Horror Picture Show fame and said, “Let’s put everything I know about the Monkees with everything you know about Rocky Horror, and put it together. The Darts had three albums produced by Tommy, as well as recoding some of his songs, like “Peaches and Cream,” originally done by Tina Turner in 1965.
Tommy also produced the wonderful Pleasers, which included a couple of singles, such as their version of the Who’s “The Kids are Alright.” Tommy said he really enjoyed producing them, and the only thing that held them back was a “rotten manager.”
One of my favorite anecdotes of Tommy’s was the Johnny Rotten story: When Tommy first met Johnny, he introduced himself as the writer of “I’m Not Your Stepping Stone,” and added that he dug the Sex Pistols’ version. Instead of taking a compliment graciously, the ungrateful Mr. Rotten answered Tommy with a beer can in the face.
Years later at the Peppermint Lounge in New York City, Tommy ran into Johnny again and decided he deserved a second chance. So, he introduced himself again. This time, Johnny was more civilized: “You’ve got a lot of money, donca? How about buying me a drink and giving me a few bucks?” Tommy showed his Southern hospitality (he’s from Virginia) by indulging the no-so-rotten one.
Another great story is when Tommy was producing cuts of Iggy Pop’s album, Party. It was a high pressure situation. Iggy said, “Produce me a hit, Tommy, or I’ll kill myself!”
Then there was the time when Christopher “Superman” Reeves asked to meet Tommy. Tommy was impressed with his size and wondered, “Where’s your cape?” Christopher was impressed by Tommy’s wit, but he had a confession to make: “When I was living in the Midwest and I was fourteen, ‘Last Train to Clarksville’ was my favorite song.” When you have Superman on your side, you know you’re okay.
Tommy, who has never been out of the swing of things for long, will soon be back in the public eye. Lorimar Productions wants to do a video on the history of Boyce & Hart. Slated to star in the video are Larry Hagman and Barbara Eden, who will show the Boyce & Hart clip of “Out and About,” from the I Dream of Jeannie show, circa 1965. Elizabeth Montgomery will present another clip from Bewitched, as well. There will also be various and sundry acting and musical personalities, including Tony Orlando, Connie Francis, Chris Reeves (who will aspire to reveal how “Clarksville” was written), etc.
The video will be filmed mostly in Los Angeles, but Tommy took time out to visit New York City and some long-time musical cohorts, like the inestimable Keith Allison (of the Crickets, Where the Action Is, Paul Revere and the Raiders, etc., fame). Where he’ll be next is inn the watching!
This is a British documentary, so you know which one of the three is getting the main focus. Okay, picture two pyramids next to each other. The one on the left is Lou Reed and the one on the right is Iggy. Balancing between them is a line connecting the two (that is Marc Bolan, mentioned often but not in detail). And finally there is the third pyramid of the “sacred” triangle, David Bowie, on top of it all. That is the vision presented here. Okay, I’m done. Naw, not really, as this is still an interesting – albeit somewhat skewed – vision of the three.
Let me quickly add here that I am totally impressed by the choice of interviews that have been selected for this doc, which is so much better than the Pearl Jam one in this series. But more on the talking heads later.
There’s no doubt that Bowie was influenced by Lou Reed and the Velvet Underground, but that’s nothing new. Just listen to David Jones’ singing style around the Ziggy Stardust period, and it’s easy to see the progression from his earlier works. Personally, I’d rather listen to Reed’s take, but that’s just me, walkin’ on the wild side on a Sunday morning when comes the dawning.
There’s plenty of clips here of the Velvets; well, as much as there really is, which is limited, and taken by the Warhol crowd “artfully” (i.e., in fast speed) while in Exploding Plastic Inevitable mode (Gerard and his whip dance is often present). Bowie was still in folkie / cutsie mode when he first heard “Waitin’ for My Man,” and (rightfully) became a huge VU fan. An example given here is his “Toy Soldier,” which is such a – er – homage to “Venus in Furs,” it even quotes it in a few place, such as the line “bleed for me.” The video for the song has someone dancing with whips. And on “Black County Rock,” as explained in this doc, Bowie even imitates Bolan. MainMan publicist and photographer Leee Black Childers, who would later manage Iggy and then the Heartbreakers, states here that Bowie’s true talent is to know what to steal. In fact he said this and many of other the other bon mots he posits in a FFanzeen interview conducted by our own Nancy Foster (aka Nancy Neon) back in 1982 (reprinted here: ffanzeen.blogspot.com/2010/02/portrait-leee-black-childers.html).
Andy Warhol is shown as possibly as big an influence as the VU, and to talk about the theatrics of the Factory and its influence on Bowie are the likes of the very wound up VU biographer Victor Bockris, the fabulous aforementioned Childers (who used to have one of the coolest motorcycle jackets ever, with an image of Gene Vincent painted on its back), the equally extraordinary Jayne County, smartly dressed in bright red Little Red Riding Hood mode (she even matches the couch!), 16 Magazine publisher (early on) and Ramones manager Danny Fields, and the Psychotic Frog himself (who was also one of Andy’s superstars), Jimi LaLumia. They paint a vivid picture of Lou and Andy’s influence on not only Bowie, but music in general. But Bowie is the main focus here, and in this case almost rightfully so, as Lee, Jayne, and Jimi were all hired by the Bow-ster to work with Tony DeFries and help run his production company, MainMan. One person seriously missing from the interview call list, though, is Cherry Vanilla, which is a serious deficit.
But the person of interest for me here, interview wise, is definitely Angela Bowie. A while back I found her kind of abrasive, but I must say that my opinion has totally changed, and I now I can see her as incredibly refreshing. She holds nothing back, and will tell the most intimate details at top volume. My apologies to you, for any negative thoughts I may have had in the past. But I digress…
Other interviewees include writers Paul Tryoka and Dave Thompson, and musician John Harlsen, who was a drummer on the Bowie-produced Lou Reed first popular solo effort, Transformer (as well as being Barry Womble, of the Rutles), which included his hits “Satellite of Love” and “Walk on the Wild Side.” They all paint a very detailed portrait of Bowie, and what effect Reed and Iggy had on him, and how Bowie had affected them. Also included are some short interviews (more likely called clips) with the key artists involved, such as Bowie (from 2001 and 2007), Lou Reed (1986), Iggy (1988), and just as importantly, Mick Ronson (looking extremely frail shortly before his death in 1993). There would arguably be no Bowie to the scale he achieved without Ronson as a musical driving force (rather than an influence, like Reed and Pop), I’m convinced.
Possibly one of Warhol’s biggest influences (and he really is as big as either Lou or Iggy in the David Jones pantheon) is the idea that “You’re a Star!” and if you act like it, people will come to believe and expect it. Even before the money, there was the wardrobe, the limos, the expense accounts, and all the trappings. LaLumia states it quite well when he relates that Bowie claimed that “I’m an actor. I’m not a musician. I’m portraying a rock star.” I can’t argue with that, as I’ve always found that Lou Reed was true to what he believed, as was Iggy totally committed to what he was doing, but Bowie was posing, rather than being. Perhaps that’s why I’ve never found him to be someone I’ve looked up to musically, especially in the reality of the punk days of the Ramones and the ilk.
While Iggy’s role in the Bowie history (and vice-versa) is more commonly known, there is much less about Iggy here than either Reed or especially Warhol. Bowie famously helped Pop both get off drugs and revive his career. For me, Bowie major force was in the studio as a producer, more than a vocalist, or especially as an innovator, as he was a series of influences creatively recast. Angela probably had as much to do with Bowie’s success as did David or Ronson – or even DeFries. And I won’t even detail Cherry Vanilla’s outreach program.
The added feature to the DVD is a seven-minute documentary called “The Nico Connection,” which shows how she had touched the lives of all three musicians that are the focus of the main feature. There is a bio for each of the contributors, and it put a smile on my face to see my pals the She Wolves given a shout out by Jayne County, as they’ve worked together over the past few years.
As a last note, I would like to add that after viewing this DVD, check out The Velvet Goldmine, which will then make so much more sense.
The idea for the tape is of a collection of the start of the underground scene in New York (and beyond), that is loosely chronological at start, but varies as the vinyl came into my hand from my collection. As always, I have tried to find a video of the original release of the song as it appears on the tape, and if that’s not possible, an alternative or live version by the same artists. The qualities of the videos vary widely.
SIDE ONE
The Stooges - I Wanna Be Your Dog The New York Scene of the mid-‘70s, starting with the New York Dolls, could arguably be considered the bastard child of Iggy and the Stooges, and the Velvet Underground: a mix of melody and amelodic layering. It’s harsh and sharp, with lyrics that were certainly not by the books. The VU had “Venus in Furs” and the Stooges had this, both of which have sadist / masochistic themes. While the VU one smoldered with artistic leanings, this just rocked as they did in Detroit in those days. Sometimes Alice Cooper gets lumped in with the “father of punk” label, but as much as I respect the man, even with angst ridden lyrics, he was more theatrical rock, much like KISS, but punk was stripped down (even though many of the early fans came from liking the both of these).
The Stooges - Search & Destroy With Ron Ashton’s guitar madness (RIP Ron) holding this tune up, Iggy just explodes in one of the best opening lines of the period: “I’m a street walkin’ cheetah with a heart full of napalm.” In that timeframe, this line alone can be seen as one of the key reasons Iggy was seen as such a strong proto-punk figure. I’ve seen Iggy two or three times now, including at the Brooklyn Zoo and the Palladium. At Zoo show, he was a couple minutes into a song, when someone threw some ice at him. He stopped the song, and snarled, “Don’t you fuckin’ throw ice at me. This isn’t a request, this is a command!” Then he started the song from the beginning.
The New York Dolls - Personality Crisis The only time I ever saw the Dolls in the ‘70s was post-Johnny and Jerry, and it still was exciting. Their sloppy stage performances were just what was needed in the days of excess but technically precise musicianship. The group was a perfect combination of musicians who were in worlds of their own while on stage, musically stepping all over each other, but they making it work. If I made this tape today, I would have followed this with “Trash.” (RIP Johnny, Jerry, etc.)
The Ramones - Blitzkrieg Bop This is the start of true punk rock, even though the Ramones never considered themselves in that genre (Miriam Linna, in 1977, said to me that they did think of themselves as punks. This iconic song was mostly created by Tommy, originating as “Animal Hop,” before the rest of the band put their creative input to task, and came up with this, the most played of the Ramones songs. I remember at least 4 or 5 television commercials that have used it, the first being a beer ad. While I don’t think it’s their best song, it certainly seems to be their best known. (RIP Joey, Johnny, DeeDee)
The Ramones - Glad to See You Go As much as I loved the self-titled first Ramones album, it’s their second and third that are my favorites. As this song shows, the lyrics are a bit stronger, the melodies are more pop without compromising their fierceness, and they rock hard, as Suzi Quatro may have said.
The Ramones - Gimme Gimme Shock Treatment The grilling guitar as Joey sings the title line is a great shredding sound that would be imitated often by harder metal bands to come. If I made this tape now, I would have probably put in “Rockaway Beach” here, which has come to be my favorite Ramones song of the moment.
The Ramones - Oh Oh, I Love Her So See, the Ramones could write some beautiful love songs without giving up who they were. I’m surprised a certain fast food chain hasn’t snatched this one up as a theme. I can’t remember how many times I’ve seen the Ramones play, starting with a show shared with Talking Head (who opened) on June 20, 1975, at CBGB. My first roll of 35mm film was used to take snaps of the Ramones, and the contact sheet was recently signed by Tommy, thanks to my pal Bernie Kugel. It’s framed on our living room wall.
Richard Hell and the Voidoids - Blank Generation While I was never into drugs, this song managed to feels like it defined me in its moment in time, and I still consider myself part of the blank generation as a term to describe a regular on the New York City mid-1970s pre-punk rock/New Wave underground music scene. What a great opening line: “I was sayin’ let me outta here before I was even born / It’s such a gamble when you get a face.” Plus Richard Lloyd’s ripping, nearly a-tonal guitar shatters any preconceived ideas about standard song structure. The Voidoids and Television (at some point, bassist Hell was in both) were far closer to the center of the Velvet Underground noise and Stooge’s rock sonic attacks. (RIP Bob)
Richard Hell and the Voidoids - Love Comes in Spurts This is about drugs and sex as much as Chuck Berry’s “Maybelline” was about women and cars. There are three versions of this song that I know of: the earliest by the Heartbreakers (another band in which Hell was a member) which is represented in the video below, the Ork single that is on my tape, and the one from the Sire album, which is the better known. I put the one I liked best on this tape.
The Heartbreakers - One Track Mind The lyrics to “Love Comes in Spurts” was written by Hell, and the music by Walter Lure. When Hell left the Heartbreakers, Lure wrote his own lyrics on a similar topic line, but the chorus is on a different part of the melody (ingenious, actually). When the title of the song comes up in the chorus, I like to overlap it by singing the original lyrics. Like something Sondheim would have done (or not!). While the line “There’s tracks on my arms / And tracks on my face / Tracks on the walls / All over the place” is the most quoted, my favorite is “My rule book is thin / It says ‘Don’t. Come. In!’” I understand Thunders was the main focus of the Heartbreakers, but Walter was equal in my eyes as far as personality, and possibly further in talent. I really miss the Lure / Thunders / Nolan / Rath version of this band, when it was at its peak they were (usually) tremendous to watch.
The Heartbreakers - Let Go Now it’s Johnny Thunders’ turn on vocals, as he commands, “I don’t know why you just don’t bloooooooowwwwwww.” The video below is live, but mine’s from the L.A.M.F. album.
The Heartbreakers - Chinese Rocks (Live) Written by DeeDee Ramone, the ‘Breakers make it their own by changing the lyrics at the end of each chorus. My tape is taken from the Live at Max’s album, and while the video here is different, it has the same altered lyrics, though the sound on the album is superior. Any one who knows me will tell you I love the Ramones, but the Heartbreakers’ version of this song is superior.
The Dictators - Master Race Rock Led by four Jewish guys, the irony of the title of this song is not lost on their fans. From their first Go Girl Crazy album, basically this is making fun of the class bullies more than anything else, with hysterical lyrics, killer rock bottom, and a sailing guitar. It’s a perfect combination of Shernoff and Manitoba vocals, with a sharing of stanzas and chorus. I mean, how can anyone take lines like “My favorite part of growing up / Is when I’m sick and throwing up / It’s the dues you’ve got to pay / For eating burgers every day” serious enough to point a finger at the boys. I saw the band play many times, starting in ’75, and every one was a great show. DFFD.
The Dead Boys - Sonic Reducer First time I saw the Dead Boys was them opening for the Damned. In fact, it seems the first few times was that combination, and always at CBGB’s. The Dead Boys were a killer act, and arguably the first hardcore band. From the opening salvo of the scream/whelp of “I don’t need anyone!” the challenge was initiated. Whether ripping off Mariah Aguier’s top onstage (I was there that infamous night) or crawling into the crashing drum kit mid-song, Bators was more than a singer, he was a force. The Lords of the New Church never really did that much for me, but the Dead Boys has not been matched by any of the band members’ other work. My tape has the opening cut of their Young, Loud and Snotty LP, though the video below is a live take. (RIP Stiv)
The Dead Boys - What Love Is “I wanna write on your face with mah pretty knife / I want some of your precious smile… / I want you to know what love is.” That’s starts the chorus. Some of the songs on the album was dedicated to one of their underage groupies, Lydia Lunch (“I Need Lunch,” “Caught With the Meat in Your Mouth”), and I was kind of thinking this may have been as well, for some reason. There is a sense of both anger and pleading for understanding that runs through this. Bator again handles it with strength, and just the perfect hint of whine. The video below is a bad live version, but it’s the best I found.
Tuff Darts - Slash Robert Gordon, who fronted Tuff Darts for it’s initiation, fortunately stayed long enough for two live songs recorded for the Live at CBGBs double album. This is a truly ballsy song about a groupie (I used to know which one, but I can’t remember these days… Fox?). It’s just full of sexual contempt, and pre-rockabilly Gordon totally emotes that he’d rather “Slash my wrists and cut my throat / Than have to spend the night with you.” I never saw Tuff Darts play that I can remember, but I have a fond memory of interviewing the band’s true leader and fashion maven, Jeff Salen, at his clothing store on 72 Street a long time ago. Say what you want by Gordon’s replacement, Gordon really fucked this band over royally, and what was his reward? A couple of near hit singles (“Someday, Someway” and “Only Make Believe”) and some non-selling albums. They could have been the Teenage Head of New York.
SIDE TWO
Tuff Darts - All For the Love of Rock’n’Roll This song is more manifesto than anything else. It posits, “I don’t care about the money / I ain’t seen none / And I don’t care about the women / ‘Cause I just need one / The reason I say it / You really oughta know / It’s all for the love of rock’n’roll.” Someday, someone needs to do a bigger cover of this to perpetuate it. The video is from Jeff Salen’s Memorial. RIP, Jeff.
Patti Smith Group - Gloria (In Excelsis Deo) The first time I saw Patti was at the now famous (and often bootlegged) show at the Bottom Line. She was such an exiting performer, especially in a smaller setting, where she would come out and talk to the audience and read some poems as the Group set up, and then when everyone was ready, she’s usually lead off with “We’re Gonna Have a Real Good Time Together.” The Horses album is one of the first of the New York underground scene to be recorded, and there is not a bad cut on it. Imagine how brave it must have been to have the first line of the first song of your first album start off “Jesus died for somebody’s sins but not mine.” I realize she was being poetic, but remember the hell (pun intended) that Lennon went through not very long before with his Jesus comment. When the PSG did the song on the first season of Saturday Night Live, it was well received. Now, it would probably cause a scandal due to that line; think of what happened to Sinead O’Conner. Despite a long fallow musical gap in the ‘80s and ‘90s, Patti came back and her material is as magnificent as ever. I’m looking forward to reading her new autobiography about Mapplethorpe. (RIP Richard Sohl)
Patti Smith Group - Free Money I actually wanted to put “Land” here, but the song is nearly 10 minutes long, and it would have taken up too much time. So I picked this wishful song of desperation, that if I remember correctly, features Tom Verlaine (another of Smith’s paramours) and his flashing guitarwork. Like I said, the album is flawless, so I just went with an eeny-meeny pick.
The Afrika Korps - Jailbait Janet After Kenne Highland left the Gizmos, he came to the New York tri-state area and did a song that would become one (of many) of his I-IV-V classics. This is a true story of a rivalry between Kenne and his friend, and the woman they both lusted after. Kenne is back doing music, and I look forward to hearing so much more from the man who has fronted more bands than anyone else I know - a few of which I’ve seen, and one I was a participant in both the naming of the band (The Hopelessly Obscure) and a recording session down the block from the Rat. The video is live; the album cut on my tape is not.
Talking Heads - Love (Goes To) Building on Fire The Talking Heads only released one song as a trio, before Jerry Harrison joined the band, and it remains my favorite, despite the “inexplicable use of horns” (as Michael of the ex-Bleecker Street store Disc-o-Rama once said). I saw them a few times, the first opening for the Ramones in June 1975 (the Heads’ first show), and I was intrigued. Without any implication meant towards Harrison, I thought the keyboards made them too slick and I lost interest shortly after he joined. This song, their first release on Sire, is a non-LP 45.
The Modern Lovers - Pablo Picasso From their first groundbreaking self-titled album, Jonathan Richman ended up being into the more pop side that followed on his next album by the time this came out, and refused to do any of the songs live when it hit the streets. Actually, I prefer the second album to the first, but this is a nicely dark and thumping song, which is highly influenced by the Velvet Underground (John Cale would later cover it).
The Modern Lovers - Road Runner While the video below is the album version, though I actually prefer the alternate from the Beserkley Spitballs comp album (my fave JR song, “The New Bank Teller, is amazing), which I have on my tape. A digression… This mixed tape was playing as I was driving up to Woburn, and when Richman says, “Can you feel it out in Needam now?” I had just past the sign for the town. Then he sings, “Out on Route 128, by the power lines.” At that moment I was on Route 128, and there to the left were the power lines. It was a Keanu Reeves “whoa” moment.
Blondie - X Offender Blondie were opening for the Ramones the second time I went to CBGB’s during the early summer of 1975, and I saw them quite a few times after that. At either that show or the one after, Debbie presciently stated, “Here’s our upcoming disco hit, ‘Heart of Glass’.” This was before they were even signed to a label. And speaking of which, Chrysalis released this single before the first album came out, which has a different mix. The video, fortunately, is also the single version. For me, Blondie’s best release was their first album, which had everything I liked about the band. After, they became way more over-produced, glossy and polished, and while they were still interesting, their records became more and more blah for my tastes at the time.
The Criminals - The Kids Are Back After Sylvain Sylvain left the Dolls, but before his underrated stint with the 14th Street Band (whom I saw a few times, including at Hurrahs with the Rich Kids opening, featuring Glen Matlock and Midge Ure – who I found pretty lame), he formed the Criminals. This single is a nice, kick-ass number showing that he had more chops than just backing up Johansen. But even here he can’t get away from his Dolls “jacket,” naming off all the previous band’s members at a later point in the song. The video is the same song, but done live and with a different band backing him up on a telethon.
The Count - The Morn of the Confrontation I was going to visit Joe Vig, so I figured I may as well put one of his songs on the tape. This was one of his very early recordings, and one of his best of the time. It’s a full out production, with a great tune and strong lyrics. He cries out on the chorus, “Seems like I’m trying / You know I’m trying all the time!” Viglione is another musician whose material is better than his career as a musician, which is a shame.
The Jumpers - I Wanna Know What’s Going On Ah, the Jumpers, from Buffalo. Their first single was produced by Bernie Kugel by money borrowed from Dave Olka, it was written by band member Bob Kozak and fronted by the irrepressible (and Joey Ramone-level tall) Terry Sullivan. Kozak remains a strong songwriter (he and Kugel have performed together a number of times). Both this song and its flip, “You’ll Know Better When I’m Gone,” are likeable numbers in a Real Kids vein (or vice versa).
The Marbles - Forgive and Forget From the first time I saw the Marbles, I fell in love with their sound. They had a scene-level hit with their powerpop Ork release, “Red Lights,” but I chose this Eric Li fronted number for this tape. Eric struggled with the high notes, but the melody and harmonies are as wondrous today as they were then. The Marbles only released two singles, but neither contain my favorites, “You Tomorrow” or “She’s Cool.” There is a live video of one of their shows floating around in some studio, and I recommend seeking it out (the clip below is from it). (RIP Eric)
Iggy Pop - Lust For Life I started with Iggy, so I end with Iggy. This is one of his first solo hits, which has been way overused in commercials on television. It’s a commentary about the evils of consumption, and it’s used to promote the same. Go figure.
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 - 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.
The following information is taken from printed material I found while clearing out stuff I’d collected and am now disposing. This shows what a bustling scene there was in the fall of 1983. I have picked shows from ads at my own discretion, and it is not necessarily the full listings for the space, nor an endorsement of the band (i.e., does not automatically mean I like them). Comments printed in parentheses are from the ads.
CBGB and OMFUG Thu, Oct. 23: Macambos – The Brood (from Maine) – Headless Horsemen (w/ ex Fuzztone members) – Combo Limbo Fri, Oct. 24: Iron Curtain – White Zombie – Rat At Rat R – New Marines (Special Guest) Tue, Oct. 28: Golden Dawn – Jing – Vernon Reid’s Living Colour – Random Facts Wed, Oct. 23: Giant Metal Insects – Ritual Tension – Greg Ginn – Gone Sun, Nov. 2: CMJ’s Marathon 2-2: Beastie Boys – Crying Out Loud – Damage – Honeymoon Killers – Offbeats – Random Facts – Rat At Rat R – Ritual Tension – White Zombie
City Gardens, Trenton, NJ Sat, Oct. 25: Robert Hazard Sun, Oct. 26: Bad Brains – Dr. Know/Das Yahoos – Serial Killers Fri, Oct 31: Halloween Party: Gene Loves Jezebel – Until December Fri, Nov 7: Love and Rockets Sat, Nov 22: Peter Murphy (formerly of Bauhaus)
The Ritz Thu, Oct. 23: Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds – Rat At Rat R ($12.50 advance/13.50 day of show) Sat, Oct. 25: The Fall – Splatcats ($12.50/13.50) Mon, Oct. 27: Free! See the Cro-Mags live and be in a movie! You will be admitted at 10 AM-11 AM to stay until 11 PM. Thu, Oct. 30: Bachman Turner Overdrive ($12.50/13.50) Fri, Oct. 31: A Halloween Spectacular: The 10th Anniversary Reunion of the Dead Boys – Smashed Gladys – Angels in Vain ($15.50/17.50) Sat, Nov. 1: Robyn Hitchcock & the Egyptians – Beat Rodeo ($12.50/13.50) Thu, Nov. 6; Fri Nov. 7: The Ramones ($12.50/13.50) Sat, Nov. 8: The Richard Thompson Band – Guadal Canal Diary (2 shows by popular demand) ($14.50/15.50) Sun, Nov. 9: Rock Hotel Show: Motorhead – Cro-Mags – Dark Angel ($12.50/13.50) Thu, Nov. 13; Fri, Nov. 14: Iggy Pop ($14.50/15.50) Sat, Nov. 29: Sam Kinison (limited seating) Sun, Dec. 6: Slayer – Overkill
One of the interesting things to note is the prices, as listed by the Ritz. At the time, these were seen as expensive, but not compared to now, even when weighted against today’s dollar vs. then dollar. Plus there were no exorbitant ticketing service fees that ripped off the attendee, though one had to go down to the actual venue to pick the tickets up.
In the case of these shows, I must admit that I did not see any of them, though I went to shows regularly during that period. There are a few I would have liked to attended, such as the Ramones (duh), the Brood/Headless Horsemen, Greg Ginn (my ’80s West Coast bands experience is kind of limited), the Splatcats (Yod!), the Dead Boys, Richard Thompson, and Iggy; there are other bands that I would have had no interest in then or now, like the Beastie Boys (sorry Ant & Ricky), Slayer, Gene Loves Jezebel, or Peter Murphy.
Point is, there was a lot going on back then, and it was a great time to be seeing live music in the area.
When I started FFanzeen in 1977, there were only a handful of print fanzines around. The scene started changing with the input of British punk, and some of the older fanzines either went for it strongly and started putting down the local New York scene as "dead"; or they found a small niche (e.g., post-garage), and declared the scene dead; or...
Some of the top mags at the time were like this, such as The New York Rocker (after Alan Betrock left), which was especially denegrating to the scene of the very city it was named after, issue after issue. In the Village Voice, the bible for the scene at the time, Robert Christegau turned his back on us, going on and on about how great the scene overseas was in comparison or wrote mostly about R&B (my Managing Editor at the time had a button that said Christegau D-).
I swore that I would never do that, and would fold if I found myself losing interest. At that point, FFanzeen's subtitle became "Rock 'n' Roll with Integrity." It was something I stood by. If a band I thought fit into the concept of the magazine, I printed something; if they did not, well, that's why I turned down an interview with Duran Duran. They were everything I was against. I also said no to Steve Forbert and Southside Johnny, who asked me directly if I would want to write something about them. "No, sorry, does not fit into the format." That same Managing Editor quit because I would not publish something about one of her favorite groups, NRBQ, a talented band that I found particularly dull. When one of my writers tried to interview Iggy Pop she was told by his managing company, "Only if he gets the cover." I turned said no because I refused to be dictated to. He finally was interviewd by us in the following issue, and it was without stipulation; he was indeed on the cover, and he should have been, just not by decree.
Well, the years passed. In 1988 I stopped publishing because I ran out of money and time. While I did not realize the last issue was going to be just that until after it came out, it was the right time for me, personally.
Now I have restarted FFanzeen as this blog for the very same reason I started it in the first place: I want a place to put my writing for general consumption. It is something I enjoy, and from the responses I have received both on and off the blog, people seem to be enjoying it. That cheers me up enormously.
However, after all these years, my tastes have broadened, and I am not just writing about rock and roll, but of all things that come to mind. There's music and film, theater and books, academics and philosophy, events in my life, and my views of culture in general. For that reason, as of today, I have changed the subtitle of my blog to "Culture With Integrity." Does that mean that I would now talk to Duran Duran? Nah, I am still so not interested in that kind of pablum, any more than if Christina Agulara asked. However, I would talk to others that would have fallen out of the concept of the print edition.
That's the thing, you see: just what is the concept of FFanzeen as it stands today? Whatever I want it to be. I do not answer to anyone except myself on it. On occasion in the future, I may have guests writing on here, but for now, it is my vision alone.
My hope is that you will be amused, perhaps learn something (and teach me as well by adding in the comments, or even correcting me), or use what I write to promote yourself. And if and when I lose interest, I will disappear rather than disrespect the reader. That's all I can give.
What do Jay and the Americans, Paul Revere and the Raiders, the Monkees, the Lettermen, The Sex Pistols, Showaddy Waddy, the Darts, among many others, have in common? They all recorded songs written or co-written by Tommy Boyce.
In 1975, five years after the Monkees’ demise, David Jones had the idea to put together a new version of the Monkees, with Mickey Dolenz, Tommy Boyce and Bobby Hart. He could not get the legal rights to use the name “Monkees,” so the group of Dolenz, Jones, Boyce & Hart was born. It was so successful that they did a year-long international tour and put out two albums, one studio and one live in Japan.
Tommy, who has never been out of the swing of things for long, will soon be back in the public eye. Lorimar Productions wants to do a video on the history of Boyce & Hart. Slated to star in the video are Larry Hagman and Barbara Eden, who will show the Boyce & Hart clip of “Out and About,” from the I Dream of Jeannie show, circa 1965. Elizabeth Montgomery will present another clip from Bewitched, as well. There will also be various and sundry acting and musical personalities, including Tony Orlando, Connie Francis, Chris Reeves (who will aspire to reveal how “Clarksville” was written), etc.
