Chicagoland at 45 RPM: The Mid-1960s Midwest Music Mecca-Interview with author George Plasketes

45 RPM=Revolutions Per Midwest (in mono)

Chicago ‘60s music, then and now, is somewhat still under-recognized on a national level. Assessing the need and filling a gap, George Plasketes presents a fact-filled and enlightening exploration of the glorious pop-rock sounds and scene that made Chicagoland “The Mid-1960s Midwest Music Mecca.” Plasketes shares his extensive research, passion for music and lived experience to offer a much deeper look into the people, places and culture that made it happen. Overall, Plasketes provides the most comprehensive account of Chicagoland’s thriving pop music scene of 1964-1971 ever written, while also extending the narrative to the Great(er) Midwest and striking a balance between detailed history and the "mystic chords of memory."

Author photo by Molly Bartels from Auburn Today's "Office Space" spotlight

George Plasketes is professor of media studies and popular culture in the School of Communication and Journalism at Auburn University in Alabama.  He also played defensive end for the University of Mississippi from 1975-1977.  His 1977 “Ole Miss” team has the distinction of upsetting a Notre Dame team that would go on to win the National Championship led by Joe Montana. Plasketes is also the author of Warren Zevon: Desperado of Los Angeles (Rowan and Littlefield).

What gave you the impetus to write a book about the Chicago music scene of the mid-‘60s besides the obvious fact of growing up there?  Was it something you have long wished to do or did it only emerge in the past 10 years or so?

Partialities, proclivities, and romanticism of Western suburbs Wonder Years aside…my enduring reflections and ruminations on that Once Upon a Time and Place, which I had long carried with me in sound and spirit as a pulse and steadfast whisper, gradually amplified into a shout. The Voices Within said that the Chicagoland mid-1960s music scene is meaningful and multifarious, and needs to be documented and presented as fully as possible. 

Fragments, profiles and highlights of the prolific period have appeared over the years in shorter formats (blogs, websites, liner notes) from a collective of resourceful local chroniclers and critics. Their writings and commentaries were cited throughout my narrative, informing my account of the mid-1960s Chicagoland scene. I felt it was important, if not urgent, to compile as much of this Stuff as I could, situating it into one place in as comprehensive a chronicle as possible.  In short, and long, a critical cultural and geo-musical narrative complemented by discographic archival resources. Such an edition was a long time coming. Way overdue. I was always a bit surprised that such a document had not been previously written or assembled. This was an opportunity for me to dutifully step up and tell the tale in its totality. The fine folks at McFarland publishing were swayed.

As a prelude, several years ago, I included a chapter on “The Suburbs Seven” (my branding for the best known Chicagoland suburbands) for a collection B-Sides, Undercurrents and Overtones: Peripheries to Popular in Music, 1960 to the Present which featured an “unsung popular music” thematic thread.  That essay was only a start, a surface scratcher that was far from what radio legend Paul Harvey would label, “The rest of the story.”

Did you happen to catch any of these groups live in their heyday?

Surprisingly limited, unfortunately only a handful. Certainly not as many live shows as I would have liked or expected to attend. Youthful age, among other circumstances, conspired and were factors not always in my favor. Transportation could be quite complicated, especially finding a ride to a show (other than family) before being of licensed age to operate a vehicle.  

Unfortunately, I never did catch the Buckinghams, the Cryan’ Shames and others live, though I felt like I did if that makes sense. The Buckinghams were located in what was perceived to us western suburbanites in North Riverside as “another world”—distant downtown and city limits, (though a mere 20-minute drive on the expressway). On the other side, the Cryan’ Shames were “based” westerly in Hinsdale, which also seemed far by suburban standards, not to mention protective parenting and driver dependency.  Excuses, excuses!

The performances I did attend were safely situated in high school gyms, church basements  and youth centers rather than the big downtown venues or outlying club stages, which may have been under caring, cautious parental restrictions.  Even though most teen clubs did not serve alcohol.

I saw the New Colony Six at York High in Elmhurst and the Ides of March in our Riverside-Brookfield High School gym.  Also caught the Ides at nearby St. Mary’s Catholic Church in Riverside; not during a high mass, but in the claustrophobic low ceiling basement activity room. The performance was memorable as the Ides struck an imprint chord with their cover of fellow Chicagoan Curtis Mayfield (and the Impressions) socially conscious, gospel infused “People Get Ready.” 

The Ides of March may have been the most accessible to me since they were from adjacent Berwyn. If it counts beyond concerts, once while at the Oak Brook shopping center, I happened to spot Ides of March icon Jim Peterik entering a Crate & Barrel home goods store. Someone else on the outdoor concourse also (sort of) recognized him--an easy mark with his shag coif, hippie/grannie specs, long coat—and yelled “Hey! It’s John Lennon!”  A case of mistaken Ides-dentity as I refer to it.  

Waterloo Courier (Iowa)

South Bend Tribune-Feb. 23,1968
clipping courtesy of Rob Branigin

How did you connect with so many willing participants such as Buckinghams’ Carl Giammarese and Ray Graffia of the New Colony Six? On a related note, I have been trying to track down the two still living and elusive members (Faith Orem and Mary Gallagher) of the Luv’d Ones for an interview for years-only leading to dead ends here in the digital age. Somewhat the same for the Same (see clippings above). 

I was very fortunate and grateful to have such willing, conversational participants. After locating contact information (email, websites etc), I simply floated a note their way, and politely explained my project and aims, that I was chronicling the Chicagoland mid-1960s music era for a book. I prefaced my pitch with emphasis that I was a “local,” with nearby suburban roots in North Riverside. I think it may have helped a little that I lived this stuff that was happening within the vicinity, rather than being an “outsider.” Another quirky credibility card I carried in my “procksimity” pocket was that Ides of March front Jim Peterik met his future wife, Karen, at a Turtles concert in my high school gym (Riverside-Brookfield) circa ’68! Small world, cool coincidence... 

The handful of band members I contacted Carl Giammarese (Buckinghams), Ray Graffia (New Colony Six), Jim Pilster (Cryan' Shames), and Ides of March members, Bob Bergland and Chuck Soumar, were accessible, personable, gracious, and appeared comfortable engaging in email and casual phone conversations about their experiences and vital presence within the vibrant music scene that they helped shape. I hoped that my aforementioned chapter on “The Suburbs Seven” would provide a pleasant stroll down a meaningful musical memory lane for them. When I had to request permissions for lyrics and images in the later stages of the publishing process, the band members were unflinching, polite, accommodating, and generous.  

Jim Fairs of the Cryan’ Shames was my only attempted contact that was an unable-to-contact or connect. In retrospect, I probably could have pursued a few more interviews with band members and I’m not sure how I missed the aforementioned Jim Peterik, along with other (more difficult to locate) important figures—producers, disc jockeys et al. (if around and available, as in “alive”).  All in all, I felt that my research was pretty exhaustive. Leave no cornerstone unturned! So, I figured that any interviews that I had the good fortune to garner would provide some insights, accents, colors, connect a few dots and fill in some blanks.  Which they certainly did!

In your extensive 7 years of research for this book, what are some things that you previously didn’t know that surprised you?  

Gosh, seven-ish years, give or take. Sounds like dog years, an itch or curse, or wandering aimlessly or purposefully in the desert. And a numerical theme—the seven year period from 1964-1971 was roughly the span I covered. And the other “Chicago Seven,” the “Suburbs Seven” group of bands (American Breed, Buckinghams, Cryan’ Shames, Ides of March, Mauds, New Colony Six and Shadows of Knight) were a cornerstone for the chronicle.  Cue Love on the soundtrack:  “7 and 7 Is.” A lifetime and legacy.

As for surprises and things I previously didn’t know: I was amazed at how LITTLE I knew and conversely, how much I learned. That is the essence of research, exploration and discovery. Nanook of North Riverside!  I was struck, if not overwhelmed, by the abundance, and how many layers that there were/are (bi-tensual) to this time, place and story, and how bits and pieces (a DC5 nod) continually interconnected, criss-crossed and contextualized nationally, internationally, regionally and locally within sweet home Chicago’s rich musical heritage. 

Ricochets routinely rang throughout the writing process, from here to there to everywhere and back. There is/was so much more to the story than the “Suburbs Seven.” To borrow from the Lennon/McCartney Song Book, “I Should Have Known Better.”  There were bands and more bands; “All kinds of ‘em.” With suburbs sprawling in every direction, each with a set of significant bands or a teen club contributing to the sound and the vibe. Songs, singles and albums in Revolutions Per Minute, Long Play and live. Of course, two powerful AM radio stations, WLS & WCFL, that were umbilical chords; their dynamic personality disc jockeys; television shows and performances; the lively teen club circuit, local, indie and national record labels, studios, ace producers, instruments in addition to guitars, such as horns and the Farfisa and Vox Continental combo organs, youth and teen culture, the sociopolitical climate and counterculture, the British Invasion; the Midwest.  And the beat goes on…

*As a footnote, many of these focal points and rich topics —the bands, radio stations, record labels, teen club circuit etc.—that are presented within my Chicagoland account could easily be expanded into individual book length treatments that transcend the mere (albeit thorough) chapters here. 

Clark Weber, WLS DJ, at a Monkees show with Davy Jones

You frequently mention the thriving Chicago economy of the time, the vibrant atmosphere and the strong and viable musical infrastructure of the city and sprawling suburbs: teen clubs (The Cellar, Like Young), record hops, record stores and departments (E.J. Korvettes), radio (WLS & WCFL), TV (Kiddie A-Go-Go) record labels (Mercury, Dunwich, USA and Columbia) and recording studios (Chess, Universal). While many major cities around the world had thriving scenes in the wake of the Beatles/British Invasion what was it about Chicago that made it such a magical time and place?

…THAT is the (19)64-thousand dollar question, isn’t it!?  A proverbial Perfect Storm perhaps? Destiny? Timing? Maybe something in the Lake Michigan water or simply the planets serendipitously aligning in the Chicagoland Sphere: musically, geographically, economically, organizationally, mass media, industrially, socially, economically, youth culture et al. A mysterious magical mix and prolific potion.

In the book’s conclusion/coda, I concisely compare and contrast the Chicagoland 1960s scene with other cross-cultural locales, metro movements and happenings— Los Angeles’s Sunset Strip & canyon scenes; the Pacific Northwest’s Portland & Seattle; 1960s San Francisco’s far out Haight Ashbury; New York’s Greenwich Village, Nashville’s cats; Austin, TX’s city limits and Michigan’s Motor City among them.     

The Chicago bands were also competitive, which made them better. Do you contribute the competitive nature of the scene to the survival instinct (partly due to the severe weather) that is part and parcel of the Midwestern experience & ethos?  The bands also dressed well in "continental mod" fashion because it was cold. Plus, bands could bunker in basements and musically woodshed vs. the allure being out in the California Sun. 

I sensed from various accounts--both in archival research and conversations with band members-- that there was what I refer to as a Music-teerian “All For One and One For Allness” undercurrent of mutuality and community. I believe everyone was aware that there was something special happening. At the same time, the competitiveness, which may have translated at times into professional jealousy or insecurities, was natural or inevitable-Human nature 101. Some of the band members spoke to that self-awareness. When they’d hear the latest song from one of their fellow suburb bands, whether live during a performance or on the AM radio airwaves climbing the charts, it was motivational:  “Wow, we gotta do something like that.” The Cryan Shames’ Tom Doody curiously compared the atmosphere to “Wrestlemania,” observing that there was “friendliness with an edge.” They all wanted to be the best.

As for the winter weather….? Interesting perspective. Though having survived many a blizzard, frigid cold and gleefully benefitted from snow days growing up there, I really didn’t emphasize or contextualize the meteorological music mix of the Midwest over the course of the writing project.  I don’t know whether or not  weather was a factor, and if so, how much; other than maybe a gig, a concert, travel or recording session being postponed or cancelled due to snow, cold and arctic blasts? 

Fashion wise, I never gave it a thought that the continental mod look, notably of the New Colony Six, was mod-ivated by seasonal temperatures. Though there was differentiation within their stylistic resemblance to Paul Revere & the Raiders, I naturally connected the “uniform” with Revere’s colorful group.  Ray Graffia dismissed the derivativeness, courteously reminding that both bands chose autonomously to be outfitted in the colonial costume.  And both wore the look well. 

I really appreciated your expansive approach with Chicagoland at the epicenter and how you extended your narrative to include and encompass the greater Midwest with the reach of the two primary labels (Dunwich & Destination/USA) and the two powerhouse AM radio stations (WLS and WCFL). You surprisingly start with the Rivieras of South Bend and end with the perennially overlooked Spanky & Our Gang (from downstate Peoria, Bloomington) with in-between visits to the Robbs of Milwaukee, Sounds Unlimited of Indianapolis and the great Luv’d Ones from Niles, Michigan. What led you to this expanded focus?

Thank you so much for noticing the satisfying and significant music “field trips” to neighboring Midwest spots, beyond Chicagoland. “Procksimity” is the term I like to use.  No boundaries or borders here. As local producer Paul Gallis proclaimed, “There was room for everybody.” Whether downstate or central Illinois, Michigan, Wisconsin, Indiana…that’s close enough!  Sound traveled well in those daze, especially over the AM airwaves (as you point out). My inclusion/expansion into a regional rotation beyond city limits and suburban surroundings was multiple parts curiosity, commitment and a compulsive condition to being as connect-the-dots, collect-the-whole-set comprehensive as I could/should be in dutifully chronicling the era and setting. I consider these “outliers” from across the Illinois state line important echoes in the Chicagoland soundscape.

These Chicagoland bands were a cut above and second only to the diverse Los Angeles scene (e.g., Love, Byrds, Leaves, Seeds, Electric Prunes, Association, Turtles, Doors etc.) There was not one sonic identity-unless you want to go with the latter horn rock sounds.  There is also regional/national dichotomy of the New Colony Six being big in the region, while the Buckinghams having hits on the national scene with their extensive touring and their smooth pop sounds. If you don’t mind playing favorites, which was your favorite Chicagoland group growing up and has it changed now?

A follow up footnote first: Many nice points here regarding the scene and the sound. The regional/national dichotomy.  And identity.  If I may respond, as I addressed this in passages throughout the book, including in the conclusion (Cornerstone Coda) with concise comparisons to other pop rock garage pockets across the country. While not necessarily an identity crisis, “Horn rock” perhaps sticks a bit more than other labels for Chicagoland’s sound during the era.  Among the sound suspects include the seven-piece band Chicago, who wore the bold brass badge quite well, if not as a signature. While many other locals certainly leaned on and integrated that sound, among them and at the forefront, The Mob (the overlooked musical group, not the syndicate). Another contributing factor to that perception/association (not the band the Association, who happened to be my very first concert at a downtown venue!) that some of Chicagoland’s biggest, most enduring hits during the period happened to be horn-centric: the American Breed’s “Bend Me Shape Me,” (and the fun fact that the Outsiders recorded the song first); the Ides of March’s touchstone “Vehicle,” and the Buckinghams’ ascending horns in “Kind of Drag.” More broadly—both regionally and nationally—groups such as Chase, Blood Sweat & Tears and the Canadian outfit, Lighthouse, with the catchy “One Fine Morning,” trumpeted that trendy sonic presence, jazzing it up with horns of plenty.  

As for personal “favorites,” there was some fluidity at work there short of flavor-of-the-month, with limited partiality or predominant preference. Call it collective allegiance. There was enough good music and distinctive sounds circulating that you could declare a fave Chicagoland band almost every day of the week (or “Eight Days a Week” on the Beatles’ calendar), often determined or influenced by the latest single in the WLS/WCFL radio rotations. In those Good Old Daze before “influencers,” I’d go through intervals of spending more time listening to one band more than another, especially when their album releases competed with singles consumption. There was an abundance of LP tracks to sample, repeat play, and to like. Albums broadened the band's songbooks beyond the WLS/WCFL radio airplay and stacks of 45 rpm singles. The Ides of March from Berwyn were located the closest in relation to North Riverside, so they got points for that, not to mention deep tracks such as “One Woman Man,” “Colorado Morrow,” and “Aire of Good Feeling,” which featured a lyric: “We’ll meet at Miller Meadow/I can hardly wait.” That couplet resonated as an anthem of familiarity.  Miller Meadow was a forest preserve locale in Forest Park on the Des Plaines River off First Avenue, less than a mile and short bike ride from my home on 5th Avenue in North Riverside. Procksimity strikes a chord again! These bands were OURS. They made the tone and tunes of the Times tangible. 

The Byrds (Chris Hillman, David Crosby, Roger McGuinn with WLS DJ Art Roberts 

A footnote on local favorites. As a Byrds kid captivated by their jingle jangle, folk/rock/electric/psych (and eventually country) sound, Roger McGuinn’s ringing 12-string Rickenbacker and the group’s chiming harmonies, I may have (and continued) to lean between a little and a lot toward the Cryan' Shames,’ whose sound adeptly borrowed and blended “B’s”--the Byrds, Beatles and Beach Boys and maybe a fourth “B”:  Brilliant!

The early New Colony Six were catchy and immediate, but also exploratory and adventurous. As I have become older, I have embraced the “Girls in the Garage” sound, led by the Luv’d Ones, the Daughters of Eve and the Same, that all played a significant part in the Chicago scene.  Also, I have come around to the Cryan’ Shames. I would have considered them too lightweight and somewhat cloying in my teens and early-twenties, but have reconsidered in the intervening years. Due to its front cover consisting of live shots, I also thought A Scratch in the Sky was a live album when I came upon it at a library sale in the ‘90s. (Live albums were a low priority when starting to build a record collection.)  I also passed because the vinyl was all scratched up.  Later, I read it was fairly common to think this was a live album and it’s hard to find in decent condition as the well-loved album merited many a spin.  Upon recent re-listening, it blew me away and it does deserve its belated "Pet Sounds-ish" recognition as it’s a showcase of their brilliance and also a “synthesis” of the Beatles, Beach Boys, Byrds and Hollies.

Spot on here, and can relate to similar taste/listening, sound shifts and preferences that have come with agingI  During the Day, there was a stack of New Colony Six 45s (Sentar/Centaur & Mercury) cued on the turntable spindle. Sensitive guy that I am, they hooked me with a string of garage, psych and cascading rhythmic singles and B-sides: the “Love You So Much/”Let Me Love You,”—a gem described as “a sublime slice of pure power pop”--“I’m Just Waitin’ (Anticipating for Her to Show Up),” “You’re Gonna Be Mine,” “Come and Give Your Love to Me.”   

In addition to the NC6, it was easy to be faithful to the Ides of March, Cryan’ Shames (see my previous riff on them), and Buckinghams. Those were my Fab Four on the local level. All those bands possessed and presented different appealing musical qualities in lyrics, sound, tempo, vocals and harmonies, instrumentation. And they were our home towners!

Unfortunately, that may have been a bit confining; a boxed-in set. There were many groups in the book that I came across while researching that I had not encountered, was aware of or listened to back in the day. I discovered that I missed/overlooked/neglected a lot of cool music and bands of ‘60s Chicagoland. Among them, the “girls in the garage” Daughters of Eve, Luv’d Ones along with the Knaves, Exceptions, Del-Vetts, Saturday’s Children and many others that I was able to include in the book. However, the Same that you mentioned are MIA! Drat! There are likely others, but the Same omission will haunt this obsessive completist.  Though I remain puzzled (and frustrated) that I did come across any reference to them anywhere. Bummer…but thanks!

This seems consistent with our elongated, if not endless, trek across the vast Chicagoland mid-1960s soundscape. Just when you think you have uncovered, explored, seen and heard pretty much everything, along comes another song, another source or reference, buried treasure uncovered in the archive or vaults; nuggets which subsequently strike a responsive chord on some level.  In this case, more cool stuff dwelling in the Cellar, ready to excavate and enjoy, relics from a bountiful locale and era. Seek, find, listen to. Never too late. 

And yes, there was a common misperception that the Cryan' Shames’ A Scratch in the Sky was a live record, largely suggested by the LP’s cover collage of performance images. 

The late Jimy Sohns and the Shadows of Knight-photo from the album 
The Shadows Of Knight – Live 1966 from Sundazed Music 

“Gloria” was obviously the shot heard around North America (and beyond) and continues to resound today.  What do you consider the quintessential Chicago singles and/or songs from that time?

….though New Colony Six founder and front Ray Graffia Jr. will be hasty with a rewind remind that the NC6’s “I Confess” preceded  Jimy Sohns’ Shadows’ “Gloria” to initiate/ignite the Chicagoland regional revolution; it’s impossible not to include their Them cover on the 1960s/early 1970s Chicagoland enduring A-Sides along with “I Confess.” Both are revolution requisites when compiling a Greatest Hits or Quintessential singles most representative of the Once Upon a Time & Place. 

The same with the Ides’ “Vehicle,” Buckinghams’ “Kind of a Drag,” the American Breed’s “Bend Me Shape Me” and perhaps the overlooked Mauds cover of “Hold On.” As for the Cryan’ Shames, I might go with the jangly uptempo “Sugar and Spice” (another cover), though a case certainly could be made for their Beach Boy Pacifica wavelength washing onto the shores of Lake Michigan on “It Could Be We’re in Love,” or the cover girl gaze of  “I Wanna Meet You.” The hit single status, charting course and enduring airplay of these songs make them obvious selections, and foundational as tracks in the resounding regional rotation.  And, it may be negligent not to represent Chicago (Transit Authority), the brass band, and their “more horn” (instead of cowbell) sound; so maybe a nod to “Beginnings” (1969) or “25 or 6 to 4,” into 1970, or any number of their notable hits.

    

Speaking of, or not speaking of,.. A few Honorable Mentions or rotation runners up: How about the Flock’s “Take Me Back;” and a windy city in your hair anthem providing period punctuation in the early 1970s (in addition to the Ides’ sentimental breakdown “L.A. Goodbye”): Aliotta Haynes & Jeremiah’s “Lake Shore Drive (LSD).”  “And there ain’ t no road just like it…”

Are you able to disclose anything about your next research, writing and/or book project(s)? 

Thanks for asking about works in progress and in motion.  Been outlining a book length volume, critical, bio-blend and comprehensive recording catalog of two of my longtime favorites: multi/maxi instrumentalist, understated Lords of the Strings, Ry Cooder (Rising Sons) and (the Late Great David Lindley (Kaleidoscope). Tentative work in progress title: Versatile Virtuosos:  The Sound Sourcery and Mutuality of Ry Cooder & David Lindley. 

What is your favorite experience behind researching and writing this book?

Completing the project! The journey’s end. Arriving. That was my wife’s favorite also.  Actually, pulling off what I had I hoped I could, telling this meaningful story as thoroughly as possible.  And, I was rewarded with the Gift of learning so much along the way.  

This project has been a privilege, a duty, an homage, a Labor of Love with a memoir demeanor and spirit. At the risk of sounding cliched, pedestrian or boringly academic, the research/writing process/experience of exploration and discovery; and managing, organizing and shaping/arranging/presenting such an abundance of information into a geo-musical and cultural history with an archival sound resource is very gratifying.  And achieving a Totality like pieces of a puzzle—words arranged in (hopefully) an engaging, informative narrative (with alliterative excess that usually annoys readers more than it does charms them); images for visual aid; carefully crafted titles and subtitles;  meticulously curated epigraphs to frame themes, chapters and subsections; an annotated discography—mid-1960s Chicagoland all bound in 250 pages. 

A Coda of grace and gratitude to you Ted, for your interest, support and kindred sound spiritship. To borrow from Sly and the Family Stone: Thank you (Falettinme Be Mice Elf Agin)

The Del-Vetts

The Numbers-Mad Day Out

When my friend first pulled Anthology '64-'67 out some 25 years ago from his record shelves, I thought it was a Swedish ‘60s band like the Tages. The trio actually conspired with Greg Shaw to throw many for a similar loop with their playful ploy. Co-conspirator Terry Tutor certainly did the leg work for Anthology '64-'67 and made sure influential college radio stations like Loyola Marymount’s KXLU had the 1983 release by patiently braving the 405 and taking it directly to the station himself. As Terry wisely stated, “You do the things you have to do, in order to do the things you want to do.” The record ended up spreading all over the world-mostly by word of mouth. The Numbers can now be added to acts like the Things and the Point who were on the periphery of the L.A.'s Paisley Underground scene, but are finally receiving belated reconsideration and recognition in the 21st century. In fact, Anthology '64-'67 is slated to be reissued by Bachelor Records in 2026. Their surging sound is actually a great encapsulation of stripped-down breakaway power-pop with striking melodies and wrap-around choruses that match up to the Nerves and the Beat along with their undeniable mid-'60s influences. 

Anthology '64-'67
L to R: Terry Tutor, Larry Dill, Larry Tutor

Their new recording, Mad Day Out, is immediately appealing from the first play and their years of playing combined with life experiences lends a blanketing sagelike quality. Their current sound can best be described as upbeat sparkling ‘60s influenced guitar-driven pop with bittersweet inflections. As might be expected, they are totally conversant with the masters: the Beatles, Beach Boys and the Byrds. In addition, they have retained their Texas twang and those Everly-esque brotherly harmonies. It’s competently played pop with absolutely no pretensions, which is as refreshing as it is reassuring. The uncluttered and dynamic production, masterfully mixed by Gregory Krueger at Krueger Sound in Sunland, CA, captures and layers their glorious guitar tones. Larry and Terry’s heartland roots pop songwriting, frequently upending clichés, is evocative of Jules Shear-namely "If We Never Meet Again" that was recorded by Tommy Conwell and the Young Rumblers and Roger McGuinn. The proficiency of the musicianship leans towards pure pop acts like Bill Lloyd, Walter Clevenger & the Dairy Kings and the Spongetones. It’s a sound you don’t hear too much these days, but it certainly has its place in both the congested and contested power-pop scene and the nebulous realms of pop-rock.  

Their racing tempos have been obviously tempered by time and circumstances, but their opener “If I Didn’t Have You” is an early indicator that they have retained their rich melodies and harmonies. Be sure to catch those Del Shannon inflections on “At The Speed of Darkness.” It’s hard to name other active bands influenced by Del these days besides the Smithereens and that was actually some 40 years ago. “Autumn” features one of their most indelible melodies and ranks with the best of Roger McGuinn’s solo phase spanning from Back from Rio to Sweet Memories. “Winter's First Green Is Gold” somehow evokes fellow Texans the Sprague Brothers as well as the Beau Brummels, the Cyrkle and poet Robert Frost. The standout backing harmonies on “Until Now,” veers them in the direction of ‘70s bands with streaks of AM radio catchiness in their sound like Orleans with “Still the One" or even Starry Eyed & Laughing. “A Little Time” reflects the big bang of the Beatles and Beach Boys and a little Bach.

On Side B, the album quickly goes from rousing Barry McGuire-ism (“Mad Day Out”) to the fragility of the Left Banke with a lovely guitar solo (“She Is Everything”) before returning to that to that crisp and ringing Roger McGuinn folk ‘n’ roll sound on the outstanding “Postcard.” The album then reaches the beach and moves towards the golden light. “The Coast Is Clear” is a fitting song for the year that Brian Wilson has left us and its gentle sunlit sounds are not too far removed from those of kindred soul Jeffrey Foskett. The last wave is caught with “Billy,” a rousing surf instrumental written for his son (who is the cover star of Mad Day Out). In other good news, they are in the process of recording new material and setting up some live dates to bring their formidable talents back to the stage. Who could have predicted this fortuitous turn of events-whatever year it is!

Top Left-Terry Tutor, Top Right-Voyce McGinley
Bottom Left-Greg Krueger, Bottom Right-Larry Tutor

Toshi Bando's Productions: Kisetsu-Fu, Flap, Silver Lake

There are really no other equivalents to these three albums brought to the world by Toshi Bando. Perhaps some private press albums recorded in Japan (e.g., Enough, Deep End, Memorial Art, Actors & Pilotis) and maybe recordings by the somewhat popular Japanese band Woodpecker could be the closest comparison points. Surprisingly, all three albums are included in the Wonder Ground Record Guide -a Japanese reference work on Japanese private press records. What makes these albums sung in Japanese truly stand apart is that they were recorded by Japanese-Americans in Los Angeles during the late ‘70s, but with an overall out-of-time sound much closer to the ‘60s. 

While the music is front and center, their backstory still remains pretty much a complete mystery. The quest to know more of the historical context and what lies behind the curtains are certainly impelling factors. These vast unknowns may heighten the allure and intrigue, but by and large the reality is always different from the imagined with attendant stories that frequently exceed expectations. It would be an honor to present the perspectives of the participants, but I try to proceed with caution as I wish to respect people's privacy in this current distraction culture where privacy and solitude are given little to no consideration.  Sometimes the best (and only) approach may be to “Fly into the Mystery” like the great Modern Lovers song and just write your own perspectives in the larger and continual search for understanding.

Toshi Bando was the prime mover and unifying factor behind these three records under three different group names: Kisetsu-Fu, Flap and Silver Lake. Not only did he compose, play (guitar & blues harp), and sing on these albums, he also produced them as well. Each release featured rotating personnel and the musicians listed on Discogs apparently only ever appeared on these three albums. Meanwhile, I can only fathom which basements or garages in Monterey Park his bands practiced in. Maybe there were other rehearsal places in perhaps Alhambra or Eagle Rock that certainly shifted with the circumstances of the times and individual situations. On a similar note, I can only speculate where they played and what types of venues. Where were the performance stages in Monterey Park, San Gabriel, Little Tokyo or Gardena?  Was there any type of Japanese-American music circuit in the late ‘70s? Did they perhaps venture into Madame Wong's in old Chinatown and open for Japanese new wave bands like the Plastics (who did play at Madame Wong's as briefly spotted in this PBS Artbound documentary).  Many mysteries abound, but we can be certain that these once buried records can now be heard thanks to enthusiasts transferring their rare vinyl and uploading them to YouTube. The time has come to further explore the sounds of what could be best described as Transpacific folk-rock psych.

Flap: Drums-Toru Nishino, Bass Guitar-Steve Sera, Guitars & Vocals-Toshi Bando
Vocals-Kikuko Murakami

All three of Bando’s albums offer highly melodic original songs embodied with Japanese musical inflections and sensibilities. The music converges both Western and Eastern influences to express Bando’s singular vision along with a larger Nisei and Shōwa-era outlook. These most welcomed consistencies flow through all three of these albums that each have their own distinctive aspects. The common thread is these records sound way more ‘60s than the decade they were actually made in, while the music is refreshingly countervailing to the hegemonic arena rock that dominated America during the late ‘70s. To be more specific, Bando enhances his folk framework built upon the bedrock foundation of the Beatles with some well chosen ‘50s & ‘60s rock & pop and blues elements.

1977’s Kisetsu-Fu – Seasonal Wind=季節風 was released only four years after Yellow Pearl (which is considered one of the earliest Asian-American records along with Dakila’s 1972’s self-titled album released on Epic Records and sung in Tagalog). The illuminating record, with a stunning label design, is most indebted to the Beatles and their solo projects, while also reflecting attractive influences ranging from American golden oldies to Japanese campus folk and perhaps traces of Okinawan folk.

Seasonal Wind  was recorded & mixed at Dirk Dalton Recording Studio A, in Santa Monica. 土佐の海 (“Sea of Tosa”) is possibly referring to the Tosa Province of Shikoku, which is the smallest of the four main islands of Japan. The song is delivered in John Lennon/George Harrison fashion and augmented with a Dylan-esque harmonica. A downcast enka-like song tinged with the blues and flute follows under the apt title 悲しい顔は似合わない (“Sad Face”) and is moody in a good way. そこを行くのは (“Hey is that You?”) rocks out in that Beatles mode when they were trying to go back to basics with “Back in the USSR.”  Ken Miyoshi (who would later appear on the Silver Lake record) drives the saxophone before Toshi Bando soon merges on the musical freeway with harmonica playing that catches up to the saxophone-making this sound like a Fleshtones song.  雨が降る (“Rain”) provides more of that solo George Harrison sound filtered through a Japanese sensibility, while the minor keyed and impassioned plea of  福?草が咲いたら(“Pheasant's Eye”) recalls “Now or Never” from Approximately Infinite Universe by Yoko Ono.

Side two starts with yang energy. 君さえいれば (“As Long as You Are Here”) hits hard with its bluesy edges and evokes the Japanese GS (Group Sounds) bands when they started going heavy. Synthesizer and electric guitar player Yutaka Uda comes to the fore with some copious wah-wah.  春はもうすぐ (“Spring Will Come Soon”) is top-tier first-rate pop that takes off on a dash driven by a chanking rhythm guitar and Beatles-esque harmonica fills. Next, 秋は淋しい(“Lonely is the Autumn”) is a yearning campus folk number at its foundation, embellished with blues runs and topped with a lovely flute solo. There is a real Eiichi Ohtaki/Niagara slant to 砂に書いたイニシャル (“Initials Written in the Sand”)-a lovely ‘50s styled song complete with triplets that would sound perfect coming from Sony pocket transistor radio. The album closes with  誕生日 (“Birthday”) that has Bando channeling his inner-John Lennon and some subdued blues guitar playing before Ken Miyoshi adds the exclamation marks of xylophone and recorder. 

Flap (1978) is a much more succinct and spartan affair presented with a much clearer production. In fact, the fidelity soars above the somewhat submerged sounding Seasonal Wind. On an interesting sidetrack, Flap was recorded at Ascot Recording Studios in Hollywood by Jim Rayton, which was where Instant Orange also recorded two of their EPs with the same engineer. (Instant Orange were an exceptional yet unsung folk-rock band from San Bernardino, California, who were influenced by the Byrds and Love!) The studio appears to still be active today in Burbank with Jim Rayton remaining at the helm. The group had truly come into its own to offer a truly distinctive sound on Flap (TBP-02).

The biggest difference is the inclusion of female vocals with the arrival of Kikuko Murakami who brought in an entirely new dimension to their sound. Murakami’s lead vocals are like the sun shining through the marine layer on their poppier songs and also lend a dreamy quality and otherworldly feel on the slower building numbers. From the limited information I could gather, her previous singing experience was with the Alhambra High School choir. She transitions well to the pop-rock idiom and proves competent singing in a variety of styles. The album starts strong and only gets better with its mostly sunny, bright and catchy melodic songs. Murakami’s vocals grace the lovely “Summer Day” that blends well with the ‘50s percolating guitar. From this number, it does sound like Bando was definitely familiar with the legendary Eiichi Ohtaki and Niagara (f)all stars. Yoko Ono and her greatest album Approximately Infinite Universe are evoked once again in the song “Letter” with its stark arrangement and strident tone. “We Can’t Go Back” brings the fuzz in a way that deserves to be heard by musician, author and Japanophile Julian Cope. The instrumental innovations of Eleki, Takeshi Terauchi and the Ventures also figure into their guitar tones and sounds. “Blue Sky” is a lovely strummy instrumental that seems to draw from the hushed third Velvet Underground album emerging from the Shadows.

Arriving like the first brisk winds of autumn, “Red Umbrella” is probably their poppiest number and falls somewhere along the folk-pop parade as the We Five, the Seekers, the Red Birds. “Love Song” showcases Murakami’s vocals before giving way to a “Pale Blue Eyes”-like epic guitar solo that lingers on like the sun setting over the Pacific. Coincidentally the album ends with a spiraling song titled “Sunset.” It’s an epic closer that reflects the indelible impact of “House of the Rising Sun” with intertwined guitars that crunch, bend and sting. Flap is my favorite of Bando’s three albums for the arrival of Murakami, the austere production and spare, but sweeping folk-pop-rock songs. Overall, it’s an attractive display of Bando’s ultra-melodic sensibilities with the ‘50s pop & rock and early ‘60s folk and instrumental elements coming to the fore.

Silver Lake-Affection (TBP-03)

The first aspect that jumps out is one of the most striking and intriguing color covers ever. Could it be emblematic of the band feeling displaced and marginalized in the transient culture of Los Angeles? Appropriately, the album was recorded at 302 Recording Studio, in the Silver Lake area of Los Angeles from February to December 1979 and released in 1980. Interspersed are atmospheric sounds (e.g., crashing thunder to start the album, seagulls & surf, winter winds) lending a mysterious undercurrent that there may be a seasonal concept and/or a thematic statement on the cycles of life coursing throught the record. The songs alternate between male and female vocals that would later be employed on Double Fantasy. The musician line-up is reconfigured (except for the vocalists and the drumming & keyboard work of Ken Miyoshi, who also contributed to the Kisetsu Fu album). The songs are presented with an overall thickened and murkier sound (in comparison to the sparkling clear production of Flap) with the vocals for the most part engulfed and subsumed by the music. Overall, the album casts a more solemn and melancholy tone than the two previous albums. “Mou Hikitomerarenai” is a vehicle for Kikuko Murakami with fuzz runs that rival the biker instrumentals of Davie Allan & the Arrows or the aforementioned Takeshi Terauchi. Songs like “Shashin” (Picture) are delivered with overall blusier hues and smokier tones that seemingly indicate that the group had moved on from coffee cafes and Obon festivals to cabarets and nightclubs. Murakami’s smoldering vocals lean more towards blues rocking Maki Asakawa than poppy Seiko Matsuda, while demonstrating her adeptness with singing in a variety of styles. On one of their rare duets “Dakedo Emily,” Bando and Murakami achieve a stirring vocal blend that commands attention. “Aoi Kaze” is an acoustic driven number with baroque acoustical runs that seem inspired by “Classical Gas.”  The pronounced fuzz returns on the dashing “Owari Soshite” along with the appearance of trumpet. Jazzy chord changes, blues bends and heartfelt singing from Bando of “Kigatsukeba Itsumo Ashita” brings the album to a strong finish.  Message in a C.C. Lemon Bottle

With their deep ‘60s influences and somewhat mysterious origins, these records live up to their private press designation, current reputation and stratospheric prices. Fittingly, Toshi Bando remains an enigmatic figure who remains busy with his gardening. It is fortunate that the records can be easily accessed on YouTube, as now more people can hear them than ever before. Still, many questions abound that could help fill in gaps. I would love to hear first-person primary accounts and recollections from any of the participants to clear up some major blind spots on the history of the groups and gain an overall better understanding of the context of the times. Keeping the mystery intact does heighten the allure, intrigue and perhaps the prices of these three obscure records, which were limited to begin with in their initial press runs. 

Nonetheless, the music speaks for itself and close listening will reveal Bando’s attempts to reconcile and express both the melancholic and the glorious aspects of life as well as the chasms between. On a larger level, Bando was able to sonically connect the Far East with the Far West on these three groundbreaking records. The recordings do represent a significant achievement as Bando and the musicians helped usher in a new era of music for Los Angeles and Japanese-Americans. Whether Bando receives belated historical recognition is still to be determined, however he definitely made waves as these could even be considered the most remarkable Japanese-American records ever recorded between the mountains, freeways and the vast Pacific.