Sunny & The Sunliners-Mr. Brown Eyed Soul

For over 60 years, Sunny Ozuna has been a major force on the Southwestern music frontier as a singer, bandleader, composer and independent label owner.  The versatile and dynamic singer is as comfortable and conversant with traditional Tejano as he is with horn-driven instrumental R&B and smooth soul.   Throughout the ‘60s, Ozuna and his bands the Sunglows & the Sunliners were the leading lights of San Antonio’s vibrant Westside Chicano Soul scene.   Mentioning Sunny Ozuna & the Sunliners to older workmates will bring instant smiles of fond recognition and an outpouring of compelling recollections from a long gone time and place.

The spotlight on this collection shines on his 1966-1972 soul sides sung in English and originally released on his own Key-Loc Records.  What is most striking is the soaring doo-wop influence which lifts several of these songs into another realm.  On the national soul scene during this time, the essential doo-wop elements were rapidly receding from the mix as rough & ready front men like Curtis & Otis took center stage.  It fell upon the Southwestern regional bands working the bars, cantinas, ballrooms, low rider clubs and military bases (e.g., Randolph in San Antonio) to keep the close harmony sound alive-partially for the sake of the slow dancers.  (In the Phoenix-area, the Servicemen had a similar '50s deep into the '60s vocal group harmony sound out at Luke Air Force base.) 

Their sublime treatment of Billy Stewart’s “Cross My Heart” could be considered a crowning achievement in Chicano Soul by casting out their horns and raising their voices to petition the skies.  A lovely spare elegance is expressed through their version of Marvelettes' "Forever." “Open Up Your Love Door” presents their elaborate vocal arrangements all topped off with a coda of the signature James Bond Theme from the horn section. “Give it Away” has that not a care in the world “Grazing in the Grass” feel of the Friends of Distinction, but is actually a cover of the Chi-lites' first charting record.   Another highlight is their dusky cover of Little Anthony and the Imperials' “Outside Looking In” where the Sunliners’ backing vocals express the determined mantra of "Gotta Find a Way, Gotta Find a Way."  However, not everything works as their schmaltzy reading of “Our Day Will Come” gushes over the edge and will not be replacing the Ruby & the Romantics' #1 hit anytime soon as the definitive version. Throughout their recordings, their sound is bolstered by an undercurrent of that hypnotic organ-a sound which eventually found its way North to Saginaw, Michigan with ? and the Mysterians, who pushed it to the forefront on their timeless "96 Tears." 

Mr. Brown Eyed Soul is not only a starting point in hearing some of the most accomplished sounds to come out of the San Antonio and Southwest during the ‘60s, but also an immersion into the prevailing spirit of Chicano Soul.

The Lottie Collins (Chiba, Japan) & the Evaporators (Vancouver) -Tempe, AZ-March 29, 2001

Just got in from the Evaporators and the Lottie Collins show that took place at Cannery Row on the edge of the Arizona State U. campus in Tempe.  At Cannery Row, the bands play on a small second level fenced-in loft stage. (It reminded me of some ski chalet scene from a '60 AIP movie.) The bands had to slice through the sometimes deeply rooted crowds on the ground floor to haul their equipment up and down the stairs.

After a hardcore band finished, the Lottie Collins took the stage above. They were full of that rising sun moving energy similar to what I saw last summer in Las Vegas with Jackie & the Cedrics.  They played a frantic ocean crossing wave of rock & roll which brought in cracked shells of surf-pogo, the Smugglers, beat-pogo, and the Ramones. After the show, I bought their "Electric Surfer Girl" 7" and it sounds like Leonard Phillips (of the Dickies) singing on the Barracudas' "Subway Surfin'" demo!

The Evaporators were up next.  After one song, I got caught up in the convincing fun of their performance.  Being that the beyond hyper-active Naudwaur likes to be in the crowd (more than on stage) made for some interesting transition scenes.  He had to drop the microphone down to the ground level (like a rescue rope) and run down & up a flight of stairs (to change shirts). He also sang from the stair-railing like he was some sort of prima-Madonna-diva!!  The crowd hoisted him up and he sang his songs about "buddies" and after school "block parents" while his (un-watched) band churned away above.  By the end, he was wearing an Exploited t-shirt and he was all over the place like some sort of foil to Henry Rollins. He then sprinted through the open front door to bring in more milling people to join in the fun and turn their frowns into smiles.  The grand finale was "Oh Happy Day" which had the Lottie Collins and everyone else dancing in unhindered sheer joy. At one point, in the night, I thought Rob Halford (of Judas Priest and Phoenix-area resident) would walk through the door complete with leather and spikes.  (Naudwaur has interviewed Halford.) After the show, I spoke with a very amicable Naudwaur in "the punk rock parking lot" and he said that Rob Halford was on the guest list and he was disappointed he didn't show.  I said good-bye to Naudwaur (next stop San Diego) and the Lottie Collins (next stop Texas) and took off down the I 10--driving behind the illuminated fleets of semis doing their regular retail hauls to Tucson on this happy spring rock & roll overnight.

Greg Shaw

Just want to say thank you to Greg for all of his inspiration over the years.  I first came across Bomp via Domenic Priore's mindblowing Smile book in an East Lansing, MI bookstore back in 1991.  I remember seeing the "Bomp! is Back" ad with "Magic Still Exists" by the Leopards and "Highs in the Mid-Sixties: Riot on Sunset Strip" albums depicted and saying to myself, "This looks like the coolest label...I can''t believe bands are still playing in the mid-sixties style and there's a label for them...maybe magic still does exist!"   Later that spring, I remember blowing off my work at MSU and becoming engrossed in his New Wave on Record book in the reference section.  In the early '90s, I was able to to pick up almost all the late '70s issues of Bomp Magazine and read about the sounds and musicians that mattered to me (and still do) like Brian Wilson, Joey Ramone and Power Pop (Except for Trouser Press, the Big Takeover (to some extent) and some smaller zines (e.g., Yellow Pills), these sounds were not really covered anywhere else in that pre-internet-grunge dominated era.)  Greg's writing really connected to me because it contained the promise and hope of something better. It was factual and informative, but also very relatable because of large traces of passion and humanity in it. It was through its pages, I discovered some of the musicians and bands that continue to influence me to this day & night--the Last, Jonathan Richman & the Modern Lovers and the Barracudas. I'm thankful he believed in these bands and helped others discover and hear them. Through his writing, labels and the Bomp list he did bring something better.

He Put the Bomp! In the Bomp

I recall meeting him at the Las Vegas Grind II and how he treated everyone with much respect and dignity. Here was a man who was clairvoyant, insightful and influential on music that was more exciting and timeless than what the major labels (outside of Sire and Stiff) would even consider.  I liked how he was easy going, a bit shy and very approachable. It was a pleasure to talk about the Barracudas with him as Blair B. and I walked out in the glaring sun between the Rio and the Gold Coast for an unforgettable 3 hour afternoon show from the Black Diamonds.  The last time I saw him was at a Last show in Feb. 2002.  He remembered me and we talked about some email exchanges we had regarding the 1967 KFRC Fantasy Fair and the San Francisco Oracle for a sidebar article I put together for Scram Magazine.  We also talked about the then slated to reissued ''LAX'' CD and how LA Explosion (the single) should be on the album of the same title.  He seemed always willing to help and encourage other people with their projects. He provided his vast information and first-hand accounts which frequently connected to the larger perspectives on life.  In 2004, I finally read his article on surf music found in a 1973 issue of Stereo Review.  He was so insightful connecting music to the cultural circumstances of Southern Cal in the early to mid-sixties and so truly beyond 1973 and the current predictable patterns.

The Silver Seas-High Society

One recent Saturday afternoon, I was in a local Tuesday Morning store and immediately after George Benson’s decent live version of “On Broadway,” a song followed that stopped me in my tracks.  What I heard between the knick-knacks was what I thought was certified early ‘70s AM radio gold that missed my radar or some bubbling under “Round Wonder” that was deftly included in the store’s subscription music service.  I located the nearest overhead speaker and locked into the lyrics, in order to backtrack later. While making sure the kids were not breaking the many breakables, I thought I was hearing something in the same mystical realms of Curt Boettcher, Ron Elliott of the Beau Brummels or even Mark Eric with the uncluttered couplet: “Now as the summer starts to fade/Into the gold of autumn shade.”  Outside the air-conditioned store, temperatures were still toasty, but at least the mornings & evenings offered a contrasting reprieve and hope of a much needed tilt away from the Arizona sun. This buoyant yet reflective song perfectly encapsulates those elusive sparkling moments of golden sunlight through the crimson shadows.  The song turned out to be “We’ll Go Walking” by a Nashville band known as the Silver Seas and led by one Daniel Tashian, the son of Barry Tashian of the Remains.  (His dad once asked me if I could lend him a hand transporting some of his musical gear, while he was checking out of the Gold Coast Hotel in Las Vegas.  I was more than glad to assist.) I was furthered surprised that the album, High Society, containing this lilting gem was over a decade old-as the era of release was delightfully indeterminate upon initial exposure.  While the Bacharachian “We’ll Go Walking” is the clear standout on the album, the other songs reveal themselves to be competent Chamber pop along the gold rush routes of the Thrills and the Heavy Blinkers.  The Silver Seas' own harmonic detectors seem particularly attuned to Jimmy Webb, Gilbert O’Sullivan, Paul Simon and to the piano man himself-Roger Williams.  While this band of prospectors have yet to strike it anywhere close to commercial success, they have already evoked the soft-focused tints of autumn inside a Tuesday Morning store.