DVD Reviews: Two of the America’s Music Legacy Series: Gospel; Rock and Roll

Text © Robert Barry Francos/FFanzeen, 2010
Images from the Internet

Part 2: This is just two of a series of DVDs that have been released to promote a collection of television specials from the 1980s that highlight specific genres of music, with each disc focusing on a one at a time.


America’s Music Legacy: Gospel
Directed by Kip Walton
Cube International / Century Home Video, 1983 / 2010
105 minutes, USD $16.95
Cubeinternational.com
Qleap.co.uk
MVDvisual.com
I did not really grow up with gospel; after all, it’s not something we sang around lighting the menorah. Gospel did not really come into my consciousness at least until the mid-1980s, through Sweet Honey in the Rock, who help me appreciate the form.

Hosting this show is a post-Kunta/pre-Geordi LeVar Burton, obviously reading the text off cue cards, but clearly into the topic as well. Most of his comments and introductions appear to be independent of the actual program and inserted in, but that’s just observation rather than a criticism.

Gospel truly is a joyful noise, full of spirituality, uplifting messages, and especially focused on two particulars: Jesus and repetition. There are a lot of both in a truly great gospel genre tune. A line in the chorus may get repeated numerous times, each one more excited than the one before. At least that is true in classic form (e.g., “Oh when the saints go marching in / Oh when those saints go marching in / Lord I want to be in that number/ When the saints go marching in”). While less true in ballads, with any kind of raver the message is going to be pounded, and again, I mean that in a positive way.

First up is the legendary Andraé Crouch, who sings a joyous “Can’t Nobody Do Me Like Jesus.” And as happens occasionally throughout the show, there are short interview clips of some artists, including Andraé.

Some of my favorite gospel performances are ones that use harmony, such as the Winans, who use four-part vocal inter-weavings on “I Love You.” This leads to some very moving moments. However, the group is followed by the Archers (three siblings: Tim, Steve, and Nancye), who seem grossly out of place on this collection. One of the only two white groups here, they’re more along the line of televangelist fodder than real gospel. Their sound compared to the rest of the performers represented here is like a Lawrence Welk act at a rock concert. It’s just lame.

Luckily, the slate is cleaned off with some black-and-white clips of Mahalia Jackson from an old television show of her performing a couple of songs (separated by an interview), including “When the Saints Go Marching In” (which is revived later in the show).

Back on track, we see Marion Williams (d. 1994), including an interview about her vocal range, followed by the deep-voiced Doug Miller, who has a couple of song. Repetitions are a key structure with Miller and mightily he praises the Lord.

The Edwin Hawkins Singers evolved into the Walter Hawkins Family, and they do some fine songs that have a bit of a Caribbean feel. They get to do a trio of tunes, including their biggest hit, and one of the first gospel / Top 10 crossovers, “Oh Happy Day.” This was actually one of the bigger disappointments for me, as the song is cut short. It’s a great song, and I was sorry not to be able to hear the whole megillah.

Sandra Crouch and Friends present more iconic gospel, with the choir behind her on “Power in the Blood,” on which she shares the spotlight with one of the choir. But on the second tune, “He’s Worthy,” the singing is split between two members, the first of which is spectacular (no credits are given by name).

With a deep, basso timbre, Walter Phipps (d. 1987) is obviously enjoying sharing his “Choose You Again and Again.” His style is mixing some R+B into the sound, as does the next group, the Chambers Family, including parents and (adult) children. Their tune, the appropriate “In My Father’s House” is Motown influenced and sounds really strong. This is hardly surprising since a core of the family is the Chambers Brothers, who did the infamous “Time Has Come Today,” which was even covered by the Ramones. I’m also fond of a cut by the Brothers of a gospel raver called “I Got It,” from a comp album called Greatest Folk Singers of the ‘Sixties.

The legendary Linda Hopkins is up next. She was in quite a few Broadway shows, and has a powerful voice that lay somewhere between Billie Holiday and Aretha Franklin. She does a bluesy gospel with “The Lord Will Make a Way.” She follows this with the classic “Thank You Jesus,” which has a bottom rhythm that is reminiscent of Little Richard during his gospel phase.

Again breaking with true gospel form, though this time a bit more successfully, is Reba Rambo and Donny McGuire. Their music is almost rock-lite with some funk flourishes. During an interview segment, McGuire says that they are occasionally called “Christian rock” or “Contemporary Christian,” though he sees it as “Top 40.” Well, they’re mild enough to be on Oral Roberts, but they are also among the first successful Christian MOR groups.

Up next to last in the live show is Mel Carter, who was also known for the ‘60s pop hit “Hold Me, Thrill Me, Kiss Me,” but whose roots are in the gospel sector. His style is a bit jazzy, but there is a smattering of a reggae rhythm that creeps in on “Lift Up Jesus.”

LeVar takes the lead next in a clip that tells a very brief history of gospel as an art form, putting it into a historical context. Just long enough to be interesting, and just short enough not to be distracting.

To end the DVD is a classic-style choir raver by Sandra Crouch and Friends, “Oh Lord, I’m Glad I Found You.” One could be standing in a Baptist Church on a Sunday and hear a handclapper (and yes, happily repetitious) like this one. It is also a strong way to end the show.

No, Sweet Honey in the Rock was not represented here, but many of the top performers in the field make their presence felt. While I’m never going to go the way of Jesus, I can appreciate the music for what it is, and the spirit behind it.


America’s Music Legacy: Rock ‘n Roll
Director: Arthur Forrest
Cube International / Century Home Video, 1985 / 2010
110 minutes, USD $16.95
Cubeinternational.com
Qleap.co.uk
MVDvisual.com

I actually remember when this show was on, titled Fabian’s Good Time Rock n’ Roll. Hosted by its producer, Fabian Forte, he starts off singing Bob Seger’s “Old Time Rock and Roll,” clearly showing why his career fizzled out before the Beatles even showed up. He makes Pat Boone look like, well, Bob Seger, despite actually having charted with 11 songs. However, as a producer, he’s done a splendid job here.

If you’ve watched any of those PBS specials (usually replayed ad nauseam during pledge periods where they trot out artists from a long ago era and have them perform their songs, well you have the idea here, though this form was not a common a thing to do back then.

Taped in Baton Rouge, the stage is set for a rockin’ revival, which starts off with the Coasters doing a bunch of their classics, such as “Poison Ivy,” “Yakety Yak,” and of course “Charlie Brown” (“Why’s everybody always pickin’ on me?”). While I’m not sure how many of the original band is still present here, they sound true to the hits.

Next up is Lou Christie (nee Lugee Alfredo Giovanni Sacco), who had some really big hits, as shown here, namely “I’m Gonna Make You Mine,” “Two Faces Have I” / “The Gypsy Cried” (a smart medley, since they are actually quite similar),” and that great (and yet misogynistic) “Lightenin’ Strikes (Again).” His falsetto is still strong (his range is 3 octaves), as is the color of his shiny shirt (not to mention the mullet). Woof! I will add that he is actually quite the dynamic stage performer.

He is followed by the diminutive-yet-still-powerfully-voiced Lesley Gore. Yeah, she does the overplayed (and I think overrated) “It’s My Party,” and my least favorite song of hers, “Sunshine, Lollipops and Rainbows,” but she follows it up with an amazing “You Don’t Own Me” (I would have liked to have also heard so many of her other great songs, like “Maybe I Know” and “California Nights”; be sure to check out her relatively recent album, Ever Since). She has great eyes, by the way.

She’s then joined by Christie, and they do a medley of “Since I Don’t Have You” and “It’s Only Make Believe” (which was released as a single; I bought it after seeing this when it was originally on). They make it into a strapping power ballad that would make a Glee! fan squeal.

Ernest Evans is next, in his nom de music of Chubby Checker. He starts off with “Pony Time” and ends with “The Twist” (duh!), and inbetween is a rambling medley of eight different songs, by the likes of Fats Domino, Little Richard, Jerry Lee Lewis, and the Beatles. He’s quite a bit older than when he started, but he could still twist the night away at that point.

Bringing it down a bit is the producer pulling his power, and Fabian sings some of his hits, such as, “Turn Me Loose,” “Tiger,” and once again for some reason, “Old Time Rock and Roll.” I sat through it all the way, but next time it’ll be at 8x.

I know I’m whining a bit and nitpicking, but I need to say that the Crystals are the next act, in which only Dee Dee Kenniebrew is one the originals. And they are bad. No one here can touch Darlene Love (well, few can anyway), whose band the Blossoms released a bunch of songs as the Crystals. The three on this show take a stab at “He’s A Rebel,” “He’s Sure the Boy I Love,” “Then He Kissed Me” and “Da Doo Ron Ron,” (all actually Blossoms tunes), and I could not help but wince. Perhaps it would be better if they covered the Crystals’ own hits, like “There’s No Other (Like My Baby)” or “Uptown.”

Getting back to the earlier times, the next performers are doo-wopers, the Diamonds, a mix of originals and new guys (as is true with most groups from that time period). They do their biggies, “Silhouettes,” “The Stroll,” and my favorite of theirs, “Little Darlin’” (\which is overstated here as “the national anthem of rock and roll”).

Little Anthony Gourdine comes by with a run of some of his charters, including “Tears On My Pillow,” “Hurt So Bad” (my fave of his hits), and “Shimmy, Shimmy, Ko-Ko-Bop” (my least fave of his hits, and apparently his: before the song starts, he’s sure to make the point by stating that he was told he had to do the song “to get the gig”). Better he should have been allowed to do “Going Out of My Head,” a much better song. Gourdine is definitely one of the more chatty artists, commenting that he’s 44 years old and has 8 kids, and that he played on an Alan Freed show in 1958. I will add that he also is in fine vocal form.

The mood completely changes when Bo Diddley takes the stage and makes it his own. He drives through some of his boastful tunes: “Hey Bo Diddley,” “I’m a Man” and “Bo Diddley Put the Rock into Rock and Roll“ (he was one of the first artists in rock and roll to consistently praise his own prowess). He has that rumpa-rumpa-rumpa sound that he created, and is rightfully proud of, right up front. His influence on music was early (e.g., Buddy Holly), and still continues. Ellas McDaniel Bates (d. 2008) was a powerhouse.

What is needed is some Chuck Berry (the true king of rock and roll), and while the man is not present (perhaps they wouldn’t meet his fee), everyone gets back on stage to sing “Johnny B. Goode.” It’s a train wreck, honestly, but one that put a smile on my face.

In all its incarnations over the years, many of which are presented here, it’s true that rock’n’roll is meant to be; it will never die.

Quiz: Bands Performing on Television and Films in the ‘60s

Text © Robert Barry Francos
Images from the Internet

The following quiz appeared in FFanzeen #5, in 1980 (though I’ve updated the text a bit), and the answers appeared in the subsequent issue. Rather than have you wait, the answers are written below, along with links, where available, to see particular clips referred. No peeking, and feel free to leave a comment on this blog on how you did.

The theme is: what musicians appeared in – and performed on – particular TV shows and movies? There are slight hints given.

QUESTIONS

Television:

1. The Munsters [as themselves]

2. The Mothers-In-Law [as themselves]

3. The Dick van Dyke Show [as the Redcoats]

4. Please Don’t Eat the Daisies [as themselves]

5. Gilligan’s Island [as the Mosquitoes]

6. Batman [as Pussycat, Catwoman’s assistant]

Films

7. Having a Wild Weekend [as themselves]

8. Diary of a Mad Housewife [as themselves]

9. Rollercoaster [as themselves]

10. Hold On [as themselves]

11. The Girl Can’t Help It [as themselves, in another studio]

12. What’s Up Tiger Lily? [as themselves]

* * * * *

Answers

1. On The Munsters, who can forget Eddie’s words as he stated, “Hey, pop! Those neat guys are the Standells!” as they performed “I Wanna Hold Your Hand” and “Do the Ringo.”

Bonus, the Standells in the film, Riot on Sunset Strip:


2. Not only were the Seeds onThe Mothers-In-Law, but they performed their great hit, “Pushin’ Too Hard.”

3. They drove Mel crazy as the Redcoats, but Chad and Jeremy were wonderful on The Dick van Dyke Show.
Bonus: they were also on Batman:

4. Can’t you still picture the twins singing with the Righteous Brothers on Please Don’t Eat the Daisies? [No embedding, so…] www.youtube.com/watch?v=OATwHTT9zV8.

5. Les Brown Jr. and the Wellingtons appeared on Gilligan’s Island as the Mosquitoes, and sang the series iconic theme song, as well.
Bonus:


6. Ah, Leslie Gore as Pussycat… How can anyone call Batman boring?

7. Having a Wild Weekend may have been the name of the film, but it was Dave Clark 5 and their “Catch Us If You Can” that was most memorable to me.

8. Was that really Alice Cooper singing, snake and all, at the party in Diary of a Mad Housewife?


9. In the middle of Rollercoaster, filmed in Sensurround (basically big woofers in the front and back of the theater that give us ushers headaches every night), there was a few shots of Sparks doing a couple of songs from the Big Beat album (including Sal Miada!). Remember when Sparks were great?

10. The Herman’s Hermits, and in Hold Onj, Peter Noone got the lovely Shelley Fabares. The video quality here sucks, but:
Bonus, just coz I like it:
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11. As Jayne Mansfield walked into the studio to record her song in The Girl Can’t Help It, there was Gene Vincent and His Blue Caps doing the classic “Be-Bop-A-Lula.”

Bonus, because it’s a great song:


12. And finally, from Woody Allen’s funniest film, What’s Up Tiger Lily?, the music makers in the film were the one and only Lovin’ Spoonful.

KENNE HIGHLAND: Rock’n’Roll Superstar?

Original text by Tom Bingham, 1980
New introduction by Robert Barry Francos, 2010
© 2010 FFanzeen
Live photos © Robert Barry Francos (to come); album Images from the Internet

The word “cult artist” was created for people like “Krazee” Kenne Highland. He’s been in – or created – more groups than I can remember, such as the seminal Gizmos, the Kenne Highland Klan, the Afrika Korps (and its follow-up, the Korps), the Hopelessly Obscure, Kenne Highland and His Vatican Sex Kittens, Johnny and the Jumper Cables, the Exploding Pidgins, and Thee Psych-O-Daisies. I had the opportunity to hang out with Kenne a number of times during the early ‘80s up in Boston, and had a blast. He helped me understand what it means to thrive on I-IV-V.

These days, he’s sobered up, found religion of some sorts, and goes by Kenneth. But he has not lost his coolness, for sure, and he is back to performing and hopefully recording. And now here is the Tom Bingham interview, which appeared in the Number 4, May-June issue of FFanzeen. Obviously, Web sites were added later on.

Ken Highland is a unique figure in rock’n’roll fandom.

His dedication to the music and to his concept of fan-as-contributor to the music has remained unswerving since the first golden era of fanzines in the early ‘70s. In an era when fanzines were devoted on one hand to documenting rock’n’roll from the ‘50s and ‘60s, on the other to serious analysis of then-contemporary rock, Ken’s Rock On was one of the first fanzines totally committed to the idea of rock’n’roll as fun.

But it was as co-founder, writer, singer, guitarist, and guiding spirit of the original Gizmos that Ken Highland made his most enduring mark on fandom. The Gizmos first EP on the Gulcher label (gulcher.gemm.com) both foreshadowed and transcended the then-developing New Wave.

Yet at the height of the Gizmo’s fame, Ken Highland was both physically and musically removed from the band – for the most part, tending to his duties as one of Uncle Sam’s “few good men,” yet leaving time to perform and record as a key member of the Afrika Korps, and more recently a duo (with Ken Kaiser) called the Korps.

While a lot of people know Krazee Kenne as a writer, as a Gizmo, as a Marine, as a Korpsman, as an image, little has been written about the real L/Cpl. Kenneth E. Highland; who he is, what he’s trying to do, how he got “that way,” whatever “that way” may be. The interview which follows, are his responses to my typed questionnaire.

We begin, logically enough, at the beginning:

Kenne Highland: I was born on a Monday, a day like any other day, April 2, 1956; same day Chuck Berry released “Roll Over Beethoven.” In December ’64, my parents got a D-I-V-O-R-C-E. My family atmosphere then was pretty WASP-y.

FFanzeen: As you look back, did moving about affect your eventual musical/lyrical outlook? For instance, did it expose you to different kinds of music, different sorts of people and experiences, etc.? I guess what I’m looking for is an “explanation” of how Ken Highland developed into Krazee Ken / Kenne “Gizmo” Highland.

Kenne: Yeah, moving about had one major influence on me and did kinda cause a chapter in my life. See, down south, I was exposed to what my parents listened to, which was typical Republican MOR like Ray Conniff, my homie Mitch Miller (from Rochester!), et al., plus my father liked Ray Charles and they also got into the early ‘60s clean-cut folk revival (heavy on the Peter, Paul and Mary, and Brothers Four LPs). Plus, my mother likes pre-Beatles ‘60s schlock a lot, which is why she grooves to all Kenny Kaiser’s tunes in that genre.

When I moved up north [to Brockport, NY, which is near Rochester], all I knew of the Beatles was that my mother and brother had heard “She Loves You” on the car radio one morning after they’d dropped me to school; plus Halloween, my neighbor gave me a Beatles bubblegum-with-card. So here it is, December ’64, and all my girl cousins are Beatlemaniacs; and even though I was a bookish Elvis Costello clone who hated music, it did affect me. In other words, this was my first real exposure to rock’n’roll.

FF: Were you a “punk” from the start, musically speaking, or did you try a little bit of this and that before you settled on your particular vision of crazy teenage rock’n’roll?

Kenne: Nah, I wouldn’t have labeled myself a punk in the ’60s. All the true punks hung out at Ida’s Soda Shop in downtown Brockport and went to the Panther’s Den. They were the school bullies, and I was too afraid of them to even walk on the same side of the street! I didn’t really get into music till 5th grade (’66-’67 school year) when this kid Carl Tagliabue transferred to our school from New Jersey. Since we were both outcasts, we became friends (ditto John Speary and Alan Baase, who played in primeval Highland bands in high school). Carl was a true record fanatic / Beatles freak.

Come ’68 and 6th grade, I sorta became a hippy, or at least had a more liberal outlook on life and music than did the jocks and greasers in my town.

I got a paper route summer ’68, and from then on became a full-fledged record fanatic, spending all my dough on vinyl, even belonging to three record clubs at one time. The ’69 “Back to Roots” fad started, so I became an archaeologist of sorts, discovering who did the originals to all those oldies the Beatles covered, then buying ‘em. ‘Seventy was my most eclectic year – I was into the “underground” sound: oldies, jazz (care of [Jack Kerouac’s] On the Road), folkies, Blues, even classical (Stravinsky, coz Zappa named him as an influence). As for becoming a “punk,” that came about due to 1) reading Nik Cohn’s Rock From the Beginning, which at first pissed me off, but later became my bible. I quoted from it when my sophomore English teacher praised all them folkies, who I dug as a hippie, but now scorned, coz I was wanting rock’n’roll; 2) buying Stooges’ Funhouse October ’71 (along with Go Bo Diddley) – at first I thought, “Are these guys serious?”, but I later loved it to death; and 3) reading the fanzine Flash #2, which again preached rock’n’roll, and to hell with heavy-metal, folkies, and all other hyphenated rock.

FF: Who would you name as the important influences in your music?

Kenne: Well, the Beatles for one; especially John Lennon – reading Hunter Davis’ biography on them [The Beatles] and how Lennon didn’t give a fuck and was just plain raunchy motivated me; that plus the Stones’ biography by, I think, David Dalton [Rolling Stones: An Unauthorized Biography in Words and Pictures - RBF], coz Jagger and the rest hated gym class as much as me and didn’t give a fuck. I’d also cite Bob Dylan in his speedfreak stage, coz of his bizarro lyrics, and Chuck Berry, and later on, MC5 / Stooges / Velvets / Dolls.

FF: Have your influences been drastically changed by the recent New Wave explosion?

Kenne: My influences weren’t drastically changed by the New Wave really. In fact, I resented the fuckers coz they were doing exactly what I was doing; only I was in boot camp and unaware.

FF: Do you feel the Gizmos in some way influenced the New Wave, since they were in it practically before anyone else?

Kenne: Naaah. Half the fuckers were heavy-metal dope-smoking hippies and coulda cared less! We were really too isolated to copy anyone, except maybe the Dictators and Patti Smith, coz they said anyone could be a rock star and make an album, so fuck it, we made a record.

FF: The world’s first exposure to Ken Highland was as a fanzine writer / publisher. How did you come to make the transition from rock’n’roll writer to rock’n’roll performer? Was this something you’d planned to do all the while, or did your move to Bloomington, Indiana, and your linking with Bob “Bear” Richert and Eddie Flowers somehow set things into motion?

Kenne: First things first, here. First off, I was a fucking musician before I was a writer! In ’69, I played guitar twice – my cousin had a Japasonic which I attempted to play the Sgt. Pepper’s theme on; goddam thing was so outta tune, it worked with open strings! That summer, my neighbor from India had an acoustic, and since I’d picked up The Freewheelin’ Bob Dylan for $1.88 in a Grant’s bargain-bin in Brockport, I was attempting to do a Guthrie-ish talkin’ Blues that was on the LP (and failed!). Instead, fall of ’69, I wrote a dozen tunes in 8th grade, all Dylan / Pepper’s obscuro stuff. Memorial Day ’70, I went to John Speary’s house and his sister had a Japasonic with amp and made my first recordings; a Bo Diddley-calypso version of “Old MacDonald” (I was on piano and maracas), plus John and I co-wrote one called “Sign Collector” (covered in ’74 by O. Rex; it sounds like “Sister Ray”). I was guitar-mad now; kept bugging my mother for a guitar and she finally relented by Xmas (I’d already bought a harp summer of ’70, which I blew Dylanesquely, till the next year I learned the Blues off a Canned Heat record).

Xmas ’70, I brought my brand-new acoustic to John’s place and we made some Godz-like tapes and officially had a band we were gonna form called The Squeeze, on Orange Records (coz Les Beatles had Apple). That cellar / bedroom band lasted most of ’71, till John became a jock and we drifted apart. Instead. In 10th grade (’71-’72), Alan Baase and I played around a lot. I’d bought my first electric August ’71, and got lessons from a punk-cum-hippie (after he discovered drugs). Big Al and I had a pseudo-band, Big Dick and the Penis Erections, sorta inspired by John Mendelsohn’s Christopher Milk essay in Rolling Stone. I envisioned this band as rockandroll, doing Stones / Kinks / Bo Diddley / Chuck Berry tunes and just going mental; sort of an Iggy / Jagger lead singer, a Chuck Berry / Keith Richards lead, the all important rhythm guitar, and a Stones-ish rhythm section. All this and more led Alan and I into fanzines, inspired by Bomp and the New Haven Rock Press. I got my style of writing from R. Meltzer and co.’s “fuck-it” style and the serious critique of the hippie papers. I didn’t even wanna do a fucking fanzine, but Alan, who was pretty tall, pretty much told me I was, so we mimeo’d off Rock On on a mimeo at work, using stolen supplies. Our junior year, Alan talked me into taking lithography and we put out two offset issues of Rock On in ’73, which lead to many fanzine connections, among them Flowers and Bear [Gulcher fanzine - RBF].

I’d been pen-pals with Solomon Gruberger since fall ’71; we met and jammed June ’73 (that’s me, him and his brother Jay, who already were O. Rex). I told everyone that when I graduated, I was gonna move to NYC and become famous (never did), and instead wound up moving to Bloomington to become a rock writer, coz, as usual, I’d quit playing guitar that summer, saying “Ill never get anywhere,” etc.

FF: After the first [self-titled] EP, your participation in Gizmos’ recording sessions was severely hampered by your enlistment in the Marines. Still, your songs appeared on the next two Gizmos EPs [Amerika First, Gizmos World Tour – RBF] and your personality seems to dominate them. What’s your opinion of those two EPs? Do you feel the rest of the band did a capable job translating your intentions to vinyl?

Kenne: I think it’s pretty obvious I didn’t give a fuck about them really, coz I was officially a member of the Afrika Korps, though I'd use the Gizmo fame to further my name. It was a weird trip going through my head – I’m supposed to be in an East Coast band with old high school friends, yet the Midwest band is doing good in print (not one bad review in ’76). Anyway, I met my wife-to-be [Linda a/k/a Miss Lyn of Boston Groupie News fame: bostongroupienews.com], so I wanted to spend time with her, instead of going into the studio. I said, “Fuck it. Rich Coffee’s a better guitarist than me, [Ted] Niemiec and Flowers sang better on that first EP than me; they don’t need me.” I finally showed up though, and sang two songs, one appearing on one EP, the other on the other. I’m not too proud of the singing.

As for the other Gizmos’ performance of my tunes, at the time I thought it was better, but my fans / friends / girlfriend didn’t. I dunno, I’m still a bit insecure about myself as a performer in the musical sense. I know I can perform, but technically I can’t sing on-key, despite what Martha Hull says, and I can’t tune a guitar worth a fuck. But again, Dylan and Lou Reed are idols to some clowns (myself included), so if they get over, so can I.

With the second [formation of] the Gizmos, Bear gave me the option of being a silent partner and I didn’t give a fuck; this is essentially his trip and he kept me informed of what was happening. But again, since all I knew was Ted Niemiec, it was hard for me to relate to faceless names. Besides, my closest friends in the Gizmos were Flowers and Coffee, so wit them out, I knew what we’d envisioned as a band (to be the Stooges / MC5 / Velvets / Dolls) wasn’t gonna happen that way, coz, well, Bear ain’t that way. [It is important to note at this point that Bob “Bear” Richert has been releasing much of the early works of Kenne on CD – both Gizmos and Afrika Korps/Korps – with his Gulcher imprint, so he must appreciate what Kenne was doing back then – RBF, 2010].

Let me define Gizmo here: I met a punk-cum-hippie kid who taught me guitar, while harassing me at other times. Digger said there was this spastic kid in school, had cerebral palsy or something – legs and hands all bent – and Digger and some other punk-cum-hippies were in study hall and we usta trip [him] all the time and the other [guy] said to Digger or visa-versa, “Hey…” and he pointed to said spaz – “Gizmo.” So this individual was the original Gizmos and, mostly to harass me, I got labeled with it, coz, well…I’m left handed and have 20/200 vision and can’t play sports worth a fuck, so I am pretty spastic, but then again, I concentrated on music so’s to make these nerds eat crow! I mean, man, they’re all working factory jobs, deserted guitar playing almost altogether, still carrying that San Francisco look and being 23-24, and still living in Brockport!

FF: How did you link up with Ken Kaiser, the Grubergers, and Kim Kane to form the Afrika Korps? How did the Ken Highland songs on the Music to Kill By album come to be recorded by the Afrika Korps, instead of the Gizmos?

Kenne: I linked up with Kenny Kaiser February ’77, via a Ft. Lee, NJ, Marine named Don Buckley, who was stationed at Ft. Meade, MN, with me. Buckley’d told me about Kaiser and visa-versa, and Kaiser had read about the Gizmos in Creem. I met the Grubergers through a pen-pal correspondence in Circus mag beginning fall ’71, and, like I said, we first jammed June ’73, again doing real rock’n’roll. Covering “Louie, Louie,” Alice Cooper, Yardbirds, Who, and a Grand Funk-ish “Gimme Shelter.” We thought we were good then (I should say Solomon did – I knew we sucked), but it went along with the punk aesthetic of “so bad it’s good”), and Solomon kept saying, “We’re gonna cut a record.” So Flowers and I were in Brooklyn the month after the Gizmos, and Solomon wanted to do a record, mostly coz he was jealous, but the tape fucked up, so instead, me, him, and Jay did the O. Rex maxi-45, which is an embarrassment to me, but the Kinks second record sold 127 copies and so did this, so we were happy with our failure.

After the O. Rex fiasco (I never did like the name), we hit upon Afrika Korps in an insomniac night of KISS Alive and neo-fascism. Solomon this time said, “We’re recording an LP”: I hoped to hell it didn’t sound like O. Rex. I met Kim Kane of the Slickee Boys one night at a Ramones concert in Georgetown. Kim and I talked all night, after being introduced as mutual fans. I told Kim / Marty of our plans to record an LP and we both agreed it’ll be neat to have a “supersession” of DC peeps on the LP, and the rest is history.

We recorded the session on my off-duty weekends at Ft. Meade. See, that duty station was the greatest and it was midway ‘tween Baltimore and DC, and only four hours from NYC, so I was closer to the Grubergers than when I lived in Brockport! Solomon and I originally envisioned the LP as one side his tunes, recorded in NY and one side my tunes, recorded in DC with assorted Slickee Boys. Didn’t quite work out that way, but we did record the LP in some very violent sessions from January-May ’77.

We originally recorded in NY in January, then February-May in DC, though there was an April ’77 session in NJ, which I didn’t attend coz I was either Gizmo-ing, dating Linda, on duty, or didn’t give a fuck; and it was there we got the best sound. The other engineers were clowns who didn’t even like what we were doing; unsympathetic.

I wrote quite a few three-chord numbers as a teen (recorded both by O. Rex and Gizmos), but once I went in the Marines, I started getting more complex, more melodic, and stole quite a few heavy-metal licks, too. I went on a spree of writing fall of ’76, while stationed at Quantico, VA – I was on guard duty late at night walking in circles, so my ever-active mind just made up songs, which I’d put to music at the Kane house my next off-day.

FF: How did the Afrika Korps become a duo called The Korps? Does the Korps exist outside the studio? Will it exist past the Hello World LP?

Kenne: The Afrika Korps officially became the Korps in December ’77, when the Grubergers split from us, or us from them. I don’t like to air dirty laundry, but suffice it to say the Afrika Korps had too many egos, and like Cream and the Beatles, were too good to last. Solomon and Jay are still together and they’re planning on doing other records. I stuck with Kaiser for some unknown reason – a great loyalty battle here, coz here’s my friends not getting along, as usual, and I had to rob Peter to pay Paul, but I stuck with Kenny, much to various ex-members’ chagrin. Sure, he’s a dictator, but when you’re as irresponsible as I am…

So after the Grubergers left, we auditioned nerds from NJ for bass and rhythm guitar, and that sucked, so I had Kenny move up to guitar and share vocals, coz as Afrika Korps’ drummer, he was the best guitarist in the band. Through ads in the Aquarian, we got a drunk Puerto Rican / Italian bassist from Jersey City and an 18-year-old pothead on drums, and played one gig Easter ’78 in Kenny’s basement and that Korps went kaput that night, for other fucked-up reasons. Kenny and I toyed with various names, like the Rabbis, Eddie and the Enemas, but stuck with the Korps for commercial reasons.

The way I see it, when I get out of the Marines, he and I will reunite in Boston, get a rhythm section and do what we can. He wants to record an EP as a follow-up to Hello World, and has talked of Album #3; and Album #4 has to be Korps Alive, so…

Hello World was recorded with just the two of us (stole the idea from White Boy) doing rhythm guitar and drums, then Kenny, technical genius that he is, overdubbed most all the instruments, and me singing a lot, plus gotta add those Slickee Boys (Kim Kane pays for a third of our records, so it’s pretty obvious…)! Since I had only two off-duty weekends a month, it’s like Kenny and I would do sessions every couple of Saturdays and I’d leave all the other bullshit to him to do while I was guarding our country’s defense. I’m still not all that keen on recording; the stage is my forte.

FF: Do you feel Hello World, or at least the Highland-sung tunes, accurately reflects Ken Highland as he is today, what you’re thinking, what you want to do musically, what you’re capable of doing? And how does Martha Hull always get to sing the best cut on any Highland-Kaiser album?

Kenne: Oh, hell, yeah! Even though all the Highland tunes on World, except “Lark” (which is ’72 circa “[Pumpin’ to] Playboy,” “[We’re Gonna] Rumble,” et al.), were 1977 composed, it’s still where I’m at more than the old Giz-Korps stuff. I’m especially proud of the “Do the Touch” / “Designs on You” / “Mad at the World” / “Gotta Be Pretty” sequence, coz I wrote all of them inspired by a week straight of watching the Slickee Boys, when they had Howard Wuelfing. I’d say it’s how I am today – I write a lot of Mersey-Beaters now, inspired by “Heart On,” Graham Gouldman [10cc], and Lennon-McCartney; only I’ll always have that Iggy / Dolls rasp to my voice. What I’m thinking… Well, these Mersey-Beaters are love songs full of pronouns, like the early Beatles, so peeps can’t accuse me of too many inside jokes. My main theme is love now, mostly coz I’ve been six months separated from my wife, and it motivates her to hear love songs inspired by her, though she’s not mentioned by name. What I want to do musically? Well, I’d like to improve the sound, clean it up, but keep the balls. Kaiser and I are like Lennon-McCartney – I have the rough diamond, he polishes it, and we keep the other in check, so as not to out-wimp the other.

As for what I’m capable of doing – well, you can hear the difference (Michael Miller, who co-authored “Amerika First” says Hello World sounds like Sgt. Pepper’s compared to the last LP [Music to Kill By]), but it can still get better, though a lot of it’s Kaiser’s doing. And the reasons Martha Hull always gets to sing the best songs on any Highland-Kaiser LP is because she makes it the best song on the LP; that chick can sing! [youtube.com/watch?v=mRy9BPn3au8]

FF: What’s your next musical step? Do you have any plans to do any more recordings during the rest of your Marine hitch? Do you think you’ll be making a career out of rock’n’roll when you get out, or will it remain an all-consuming hobby?

Kenne: I plan to get the fuck out of the Marines, and again, don’t look back; get with Kaiser, get with a band, and get famous! Linda is behind me 100 percent for a musical career.

FF: Now that you’re a married man, do you think that after you’re out of the Marines you’ll settle down to a nice cozy, middle-class existence like a “normal person?” If so, will Krazee Ken still be krazee; will you still be doing songs like “Gimme Back My Foreskin” and “Nobody’s Girl,” or will you vegetate into a prematurely middle-aged mellow FMer?

Kenne: Now, goddammit, too many think that coz you’re married, you gotta get a job, have a million baby Kennes with big smiles and big heads…bullshit! Muthafucka, I’ll be rockin’ like Chuck Berry and Jerry Lee and Link Wray when I’m fifty. Course, I won’t be doing “[Gimme Back My] Foreskin” / “Girl” type tunes – that was ’76; this is ’80! Naw, I see myself being like the AM stars of now, who were FM stars when I started. Like Bob Seeger – he commercialized just enough to get famous, but still screams and goes wild. Ditto KISS. When Bill Rowe and I saw Black Sheep our senior year, he said, “Ken, I like what Black Sheep is doing – that’s what we should do.” I said, “You’re fuckin’ crazy! We gotta be like Iggy and Alice and the Dolls and go wild and shit.” Guess I was wrong, huh?

Fear of February

Text © Robert Barry Francos
Images from the Internet

As we swing towards February, Mercury is currently in retrograde. What this means to those into astrology is that this is a bad time for making life-altering decisions and signing contracts. In fact, I know of a famous musician who is putting off a big deal until the retrograde ends, after February 1. Astrology to me is one of those things that I find cool if it works for me, but I ignore if it is negative.

It seems an irony that retrograde ends at the start of February, because that is when I start to get a little bit nervous. Early in that month seems to have an air of fear and a hint of death. After all, lets visit this period for the past few decades.

On a very early cold Midwest morning, three musicians stepped onto a plane. They were on a grinding cavalcade bus tour, and the star decided he wanted to fly ahead to wash his socks and underwear.

Though the stories are numerous about how everyone ended up being on the small chartered plane, it crashed minutes after taking off. Along the with tales of how culture changed at that defining moment, there are even songs telling of “The Day the Music Died.”

On board were the prince of rock and roll, Buddy Holly (Charles Hardin Holley), rising star Richie Valens (Richard Steven Valenzuela), and one-hit-wonder disk jockey J.P. Richardson, known nationwide as The Big Bopper. One story was that at a certain point, session guitarist Waylon Jennings was also on board, but got off, with Valens taking his place.

Ten years later, it was February 2, 1969, and a British born/Toronto raised elderly actor named William Henry Pratt passed on. He possessed one of the most imitated voices in the history of cinema, and yet, again ironically, he started his career voiceless. His first film was in 1919, a silent film called “Her Majesty’s Service.” Pratt’s roles were mostly second-string, and though he made numerous films before the advent of sound pictures, he didn’t make enough to live on, so he drove a truck to fill in the gaps.

The change came indirectly at first, in 1930 (though it was actually recorded in 1929). The film Dracula was an instant success, making the actor who played the role, Bela Lugosi, famous. He had that melodious, mysterious voice, which he considered his trademark. When the next film at Universal Studios came up later that year, to be released in 1931, he turned down the role because it was non-speaking. The person who got the role was pretty much unknown, despite his years of the craft. When the film Frankenstein came out, the actor playing the monster was listed in the credits merely as “?” No longer Bill Pratt, “?” was now monikered Boris Karloff.

Paradoxically, Karloff had a much more varied and popular career than Lugosi, probably because the former was able to remove himself from his roles, where as the latter had too much of his life mixed with his mythos. Karloff used his roles to pursue the things that interested him, such as art collecting; Lugosi merely wanted the fame, the dames, and the intoxication. Because Karloff was such a kind man, he actually made a sideline of being totally against type, by recording albums of children’s stories (I possess one of them), and even playing the narrator and main character of the animated How the Grinch Stole Christmas.

Towards the end of his career, he made one phenomenal film, Targets, essentially playing himself in an early film directed by Peter Bogdanovich, before Boris drifting off into grade C Mexican horror films while confined to a wheelchair due to an extremely advanced case of arthritis. He died on February 2, 1969.

Ten years later, it goes back to a short, flashy life in music. Or, some people may argue, around music, considering the talent of the artist. There have been many interpretations and tales about the death of John Simon Ritchie, or as he’s commonly known, Sid Vicious. Or, just Sid, even though he was Sidney (or SID-nay) to John Lydon. I share the same birthday as Sid, May 10.

But first I must digress: I saw Sid once. In ’78, was at a crappy little club that lasted for two minutes near the old Bleecker Bob’s, when it was on MacDougal Street, near the Christian Science Reading Room. The show was over, and I turned the corner onto 8th Street, going toward the subway, and there was Sid, definitely wobbly with a bottle in his hand, kicking some unconscious drunken guy who was lying on the sidewalk near the curb and a pile of trash waiting for the garbage truck. Needless to say, I did not stop to chitchat.

Without saying whether it is true or not, here is the story that I heard about Sid’s death. After getting out on bail, he wanted to, well, let’s just say return to some old habits. He had his mother, who was in New York, head over to a dealer he knew in the then truly seedy Union Square Park. He told her, “Make sure it’s good stuff.” When his mom made the purchase, she asked the dealer what condition the condition was in, and he told her, “For Sid, I only give excellent. Just make sure he cuts it.” For those who don’t know (and as someone who has never tried the crap, I’m not even sure how I know), it means it’s pure and needs to have something added into it to dilute the potency.

When dear ol’ mum brought it back, Sid asked, “Is the stuff good? What did the guy say?” She told him, “He said something about it being cut.” Sid took this to mean that it had already been cut, and he OD’d.

That story may be pure fiction, I don’t know, I’m just the reteller of what I heard. Either way, he died on February 2, 1979.

In case the reader has not noticed, this was the first few days of February in three 10-year intervals: 1959, ’69, and ‘79. As far as I know, there was no cultural death-shift in 1989 or 1999, but I am still aware every first few days of that month. Perhaps I am going to be especially aware as it comes around this year, 2009.


POSTSCRIPT FEB 2009: Looks like this year proved to be another in the list, as Cramps front(wolf)man Lux Interior passed away on Feb 4, 2009. My blog about him is dated Feb 5.