The Truths made this one fine Byrds-influenced 45, “Pending” / “Why” on Circle Records 45-953, in August 1965.
Roy Harris wrote “Pending”, and co-wrote “Why” with James Pettey, with publishing by Chu-Fin Music, Inc.
I can find almost no info on the group online. I’ve read the band came from Riverside, California. However, the Playground Recording Studio site notes:
Playground Studios originally built and completed in 1969 by Finley Duncan is located in the heart of old downtown Valparaiso, Florida.
It was the home of Minaret Records, Turrett Records, Choctaw and Circle Records.
George Daly, guitarist and songwriter for the Hangmen tells the story behind “Faces” with previously unpublished photographs.
The band had fans and it wouldn’t be too much of a stretch to say the Hangmen, at their zenith had a fan intensity that might have rivaled, in our home town, the early Beatles in Liverpool.
There on the Eastern Seaboard, mainly focused on DC and Maryland and Virginia, we played for the high and mighty such as Robert Kennedy and family, at Hickory Hill, multiple Foreign embassy balls, at many of the private girls schools, and wealthy DC homes, and even the fabled NOW Festival in the Adams Morgan area of DC, where Beat writer and great American poet Allen Ginsberg and I ended up talking music until 2am. The Hangmen played at a record store jammed with fans in Virginia where The Washington Post noted it and Cashbox, the music business trade magazines, wrote of the show as the performance turned into a riot involving over 2500 fans.
The Hangmen moved people.
At one point they told us we young men had by now a 1000+ person fan club. I eventually got in trouble with my landlord (and close to being evicted from my little Spring Street one-bedroom apartment) because of the continual lip sticking of the door and walls outside my place with “I Love George,” (heart) the Hangmen,” “We love You Dave,” and so forth – this went on for over a year till I moved to my anonymous next place.
So, we had fans. Passionate ones.
Faces, the song, first came to me one night, basically, all at once right after a gig in front of some of those screaming fans. Here’s how:
With the gigs’ typical cheers, noise, music and intensity I had noticed a Maryland University junior in the audience, and she me. We talked briefly outside for a few minutes after the show shut down and then she followed my car home. An unexpected feeling came over me as I unlocked the door to my apartment, my new fan just two steps behind. We walked through the door with yet more lipstick graffiti on it, and I was embarrassed. But my new friend seemed almost giddy seeing what was scrawled on the door. As I turned on the lights, I thought, I don’t know my fans, and they don’t even care about that. No, wait! Plus they don’t know me, either. I suddenly got it all. Their excitement isn’t about George or Bob or Tom or Dave or Paul, it’s about the Hangmen. The image of the Hangmen, bad boys, rockers, musicians. And that dazed, glazed look on our fans’ faces that I was seeing around me at the gigs, was all misleading me. My song Faces arrived that night because I needed to express that feeling to the world.
And, yeah, Faces sounds cynical, world-weary, whatever, but it’s real, and there isn’t an artist alive who doesn’t stand on a stage with fans yelling for them, who doesn’t finally realize the world loves the symbol they’ve become, the world loves the outline, and doesn’t know, can’t really know the person making that music or playing that guitar or singing that song just from seeing them on stage. It can be disillusioning. “At 12 you’re young, at 1 you’re old.”
Back at my apartment, I turned to her and said “What’s your last name? You have to start somewhere.
I’m an optimistic person by nature, but that realization stuck. I saw those Faces again, all through three great bands where I was joined at the hip with Bob Berberich in the Hangmen, then the Dolphin with Paul Dowell and sometimes, Roy Buchanan and then Grin, with the incredible Nils Lofgren. And, even later, in the towers, recording studios, label offices, clubs and restaurants of the Hollywood major record label scene where I worked for 25 years after my time in those great born-in-DC bands. (Bob surpassed even our three great bands’ hat trick by singing and drumming, along with the great vocalist Joe Triplett, in Bob’s long-lasting DC band, The Rosslyn Mountain Boys.)
And after these bands, out West I was no longer an artist (mostly), but had an outsized impact on artists with my time running A&R Divisions at Columbia Records, Elektra/Asylum Records and Atlantic Records. One of my artists at Columbia was the late, great Janis Joplin. One afternoon at the Topanga Canyon Corral bar (Southern Comfort on ice for her, me a bourbon sour) we had a long talk about the fickleness and unreality of fans’ perception of artists, Faces again. And about the isolation that comes from living only those shallow exchanges, without the souls talking. She lived that loneliness for a long time. But that afternoon we both laughed about it. Janis was a gem.
But back to that night in my little Silver Spring apartment, the idea of the solitary artist, surrounded only by sycophants, robotic faces, no matter how nice and cheerful and desirous they might be, wouldn’t go away. And when I was alone again in my room with my old Silvertone acoustic guitar my Dad bought me years earlier, alone with my trusty yellow pad, the song, words and music appeared out of nothing but that feeling.
The next morning (other people’s mid-afternoon), I polished the song some more by picking up my ‘51 Fender Esquire guitar and plugging it into my amp. I fiddled around and found a grinding riff that was inspired by Mississippian John Lee Hookers, intensely repetitive and growling grooves. He was the famed bluesman whose LP I wore out back when I was learning to play the blues on the guitar, the blues being the God Father of all Rock ‘n Roll. So, I kept working on that guitar lick until the room was ringing and the words flowed effortlessly over the entire song. That’s the Faces you hear today, especially on the Monument 45 version with Dave Ottley’s intense and vivid vocals. It’s not a complicated song, but a deep one, and Dave really liked that and sung it that way, another important part of the magic in that music. It all came together with Faces, my band mates took that song, and once the drumming started, made it come alive. That’s why they call the people working together on music, a Band!
But back to when I wrote it, I saw Bob Berberich the next day, and played him Faces in all its surreal sneer and grim cynicism. Bob has been somebody close to me, starting within weeks of when I brazenly walked up to his front door of his parent’s house, knocked hard, and asked if somebody there played drums (Thanks Griff!). From there I introduced Bob to Tom and the Hangmen were born. Bob was there from the beginning, and he’s still here, which is stupendous luck for me.
The thing about Bob was that he was kind of quiet and hard to tell what he was thinking, but when he engaged with you, he always went to the heart of the matter. That’s something hard to find in anybody, much less a band mate, so we became tight.
So, he and I came to understand each other. And, that day he liked the song, and pushed me to play it for everybody.
Amazingly, Bob found a handwritten draft of the Faces lyrics, probably something left on the band practice room floor. But back then, with those words and music, and with him liking it, I knew I had a truthful and powerful message. It was easy after that. Knowing that somebody besides me, my Hangmen bandmate, our drummer, got the message, and also lived the message himself, it all made me feel good. I wasn’t alone in seeing the difference between A Face and a friend. The difference between hollow acclaim and (in Bob’s case particularly) friendship that lasts a lifetime and isn’t star struck.
When his drumming was finally added to the mix combining with Tom’s always brilliant guitar playing, I was amazed how great it all felt. I still am.
A follow up note: A few years later I still had those anonymous stars & fans Faces thoughts on my mind. That was when I wrote a song with Boz Scaggs, Slow Dancer, that Columbia named Boz’s fifth major album after. My Faces anonymous-fan-meeting-you-after-the-gig line: “I never see your face in sunlight, moon light (night time) brings you straight to me. You never even got my name right. You were so easy to me.” That line in Slow Dancer spelled out the same thing as Faces expressed, so nothing really had changed.
But, ironically, with all the Faces who seemed so distant to me, just because of Bob, one fan at a gig finally did make a breakthrough, and it was straight to my heart.
The Hangmen played a big show at the Annapolis Armory. Between songs Bob yelled out my name and he pointed out a pretty girl near the front of the jammed and raving crowd. I was laughing with him, and he just used his drumstick to show me where to look, there’s even a picture of me looking at him off frame, grinning. I saw her blond hair and shining face, a feminine outline, so California. I leaned over to Bob after the song ended and said, pretty on edge, wow man, I’m going to marry that girl. I was 21.
Was I joking, I didn’t know. She and I talked after the set. And, she was… so normal, clear-eyed and very present and very real. And, I did marry her. That was the first time I saw Dale from San Francisco, who became Dale Daly. And, the best man at the $23 wedding in Las Vegas? Robert Berberich. You can’t make up the great lives Bob and I have lived. But that’s another tale, too. And involves the next two bands we were in, the Dolphin, then Grin with Nils Lofgren, Bob and me.
(My best man and I also spent a half a day in Jail in Virginia a few years earlier, our crime? Having long hair in 1964 and, after a gig, being on the road on a Sunday morning in deep southern Virginia. Bob’s Dad bailed us out!)
Those fans? Apart from the impossibility of getting close to them instantly, these were wonderful people who loved something they saw on a stage, and for whom I’m forever grateful. Most have disappeared into the dark fog of years. But there still are a few fans that turned out to be real, more than faces, ones that I still know and cherish today, probably more than they ever cherished the image of a Hangmen who had other thoughts in his mind. Someone like me, who couldn’t explain his feelings, except by writing a song.
I came across this ticket stub for a “Double-Up” concert produced by Koncepts Cultural Gallery on October 16, 1993 at the James Moore Theater in the Oakland Museum. The concert featured two duos, Roscoe Mitchell & Malachi Favors Maghostut; and Horace Tapscott & Roberto Miranda.
I can still hear Roscoe playing the soprano sax (or was it sopranino) without pause using circular breathing.
I’m posting this in the hope that photos or a recording of the event exists.
The Long Island Sounds came from Branford and East Haven Connecticut. They achieved a fine surf sound on their two singles on Wonder Records 165 and 166.
Their first single was “Tiger” / “Lucky Guy”, followed by “Don’t Cry Linda” / “(Ballad of) Marvin Crump”.
Members were:
Fred O’Brien – lead vocals Tony Pragano – harmony vocals Angelo Frisketti – lead guitar Tom Hanlon – guitar and harmony vocals Bobby Pasternak – keyboards Jack Russell – drums
Fred O’Brien wrote all their songs, published by Checkmark Music, owned by Arthur Czech, which also published the North Atlantic Invasion Force “Blue and Green Gown” / “Fire, Wind and Rain” among others.
“BRS” etched into the runout of the second record indicates it was likely recorded at Broadway Recording Studios in New York.
I’ve seen Tony Pragano’s name spelled Pregano, not sure which is correct.
Gary Steffins & the Fugitives 5 “I’m a Lover” / “Back Track” on RMP is an obscure 45 from one of the suburbs of Chicago, from March, 1966.
The lead guitar is strong on both sides, especially the neat instrumental “Back Track”.
A couple of photos have turned up on youtube videos, but I haven’t seen a list of band members.
On August 16, 1975, about nine years after the record, the Atlanta Constitution ran a profile of Daphne’s Lounge at the Sheraton near Hartsfield airport, with an interesting paragraph:
The band of the moment is Crystal Ball, a group formed five years ago in Chicago and now relocating to Atlanta. Gary Steffins handles most of the vocals and plays the congas. Other personnel are Steve Farrell, lead guitar, his brother Bill [Farrell] on drums, Joe Grimm on keyboards, and Greg Curbow on bass.
Surely the lineup changed in the intervening years, but I would like to know the names of the original group on the single.
Bands and musicians from Schenectady, Albany, Poughkeepsie, and other areas traveled to Kinderhook to record at Earl Kennett’s studio.
A number of lacquer demos (commonly called acetates) of various sizes remained when Kennett Sound Studio closed and the property sold. Many of these demos are of the Cleaners (later known as the East Coast Clique), the group Kennett worked with the most. Others duplicate the recordings that would be released on 45 rpm records.
Below is a list of demos by unknown artists, in approximate chronological order. Because Earl was blind, many were unlabeled, though Earl’s young daughters sometimes added names or titles. Many song titles below are my guesses based on the lyrics.
Please take a listen to the audio excerpts and contact me if you know any of these artists.
Folk singer Greg (surname?), associated with Hudson River Clearwater Sloop, circa 1969. Five songs, may not have been recorded at Kennett as it sounds like a radio broadcast. Hear “My Dirty Stream” with discussion of Sloop restoration
Those Two Plus – “I’ll Be There” / “It’s Rainin’ (Where I’m Bound)” (both by Alex Rotter, arranged by “Those Two”) Kennett Sound 0017, 1969.
Alex Rotter and Dawn Mickle performed as simply “Those Two” in a couple news reports. The Oneonta Star noted on August 10, 1968 that the duo took second place in the Folk Music Contest at the Otsego County Fair.
The Schenectady Gazette ran a photo of the duo on September 17, 1968:
Those Two, folksingers Dawn Mickle of Warnerville and Alex Rotter of Schenectady, who won top honors at the Cobleskill Fair and first in the semi-finals of the State Fair, entertained patients at the Eden Park Nursing home …
I have a 12″ acetate from the Kennett Sound Studio that includes both songs from the single. Another 12″ acetate contains five songs performed by Alex and Dawn which were not released.
From listening, I believe four of these to be original songs: “If I Were Free”, “Take Me to the Land of Lovin'”, “I Can Tell”, and “I Know What You Mean to Say” (titles are based on the lyrics), along with a version of Fred Neil’s “The Other Side of this Life”:
The Kennett Studio labels are blank.
Thank you to Peter Aaron for loan of the Those Two Plus single, and for finding the Gazette article on the duo.
The Venus Flytrap came from Redwood City, CA. Info on the group is a scattershot, so I’ve decided to compile what I’ve found in the hope of getting more information.
They made one great single, “The Note” / “Have You Ever”, released on two different labels.
The original release came on Jaguar Records J-103, owned by Barry Wineroth. It was a hit in the Santa Barbara area, but the band also had a following in the South Bay, which may be why Mijji repressed it on Mijji M-3005, adding a production credit to Gilbert Day, drummer with the Bundles.
The Redwood City Tribune announced the release of the single on August 3, 1967, but copyright registration came later. Both songs have words by Don Danielli (not sure of the spelling – Donald Danelli ?), and music by Dan Sanchez, copyrighted on April 15, 1968 with publisher by Wren Music BMI, and again a week later with new publisher Guard Music BMI, part of Golden State Recorders.
At the time of the single, the Venus Flytrap members were:
Nancy Morgan – lead singer Peter Sessions – lead guitar Dan Sanchez – rhythm guitar Ken Czapkay – bass Debbie Binetti – drums
Bard Dupont of the Outfit replaced Ken Czapkay when he was drafted, and Michele Sevryn replaced Nancy Morgan shortly before the band split.
The Venus Flytrap recorded two other songs, “California” and “Gentle Breaker” at Pacific Recording Studios in San Mateo, with Karen Jenson on backup vocals.
There is also a live recording from Redwood City (which I have not heard) with a different lineup: Nancy Morgan and Dan Sanchez joined by Jacque Aknin on drums, Charles J. Ashton on bass and Ralph Pena on organ. Songs include “Whiskey Train”, “Paraphenalia” and “Brand New Dress”.
The group played many venues in the area, including the Mt. Carmel Teen Club on December 1, 1967 with the Mourning Reign, and Light show by the Brothers Grimley. I can find notices for the band’s shows as late as May, 1970.
Darline Elswick, Bonnie Borelli and Marge Boutwell headed fan clubs for the group.
Members would join other groups such as the Great Society, Phoenix, New Generation, and Howl & the Raven.
Nancy Morgan (now Nancy Coggins) sent a pdf with b&w collages of photos, business cards etc. Hopefully the originals will be located for better quality images. There’s also a somewhat blurry photo around of Peter Sessions and Nancy Morgan standing in front of the hieroglyphics wall of the Matrix.
The Bay Area Bands site reprints Alec Palao’s article on Bard Dupont from Cream Puff War No. 2, February 1993.
The band’s keyboardist, Paul Cervanek, provided the rare photo and biography:
My first band was Echoes from a Broken Mirror, which quickly changed to Good Tuesday, due to the name’s length. [The band photo] was taken in my basement, around 1966 to 1968, with the band Good Tuesday. I am the blond guy slouching against the wall, third from left.
We played the various Detroit teen nightclubs that prevailed at that time, primarily those operated by Ed “Punch” Andrews, in partnership with Suzi Quatro’s brother, Mike, such as the Crows Nest—both east and west—and the Silverbell, which was a former ski lodge near Oakland University, and the Birmingham Palladium. We also appeared twice at the infamous Grande Ballroom, along with Something Different located on Northwestern Highway, Wamplers Pavilion, and a few H.S. dances.
I left Good Tuesday in 1968 when I started my first year at Oakland University, but fell into a small music clique that included Tom Weschler and we became friends. I had a short stint with Bob Seger’s band—in between Tom Schultz and Dan Watson—before joining Madrigal.
When Madrigal’s music moved more toward the theatrical rather than rock ’n’ roll—and became more non-danceable, concert-type songs—I left. In retrospect, it seemed odd that a band with that type of product would have been hired to play at the Roostertail, a popular Detroit nightclub, on one of its “Sunday Night at the Roostertail” events, which were non-alcoholic, 18 to 21 years old only. Madrigal performed at all of the same clubs that my previous band, Good Tuesday, played.
Ironically, that was on a warm, late-summer-like evening in September during that Madrigal gig at the Roostertail when I met my future wife [and still married 50 years later]. For that, I am grateful. I recall that may have been one of my last gigs with Madrigal, as my “priorities” changed shortly afterward. At the very end, Ted Pearson, who fronted Madrigal, out of the blue decided the band’s new name was now Walpurgis, this on the eve of our first Grande Ballroom show. They, of course, eventually recorded what became the Phantom’s Divine Comedy project. As for me: my last professional band was Fancy Colors, in the early ’70s.
As it turns out, I gave keyboard lessons to Russ Klatt, a saxophone player. He got a gig in a band called Downtown Clergy as result—and eventually played the Hammond on Phantom’s Divine Comedy.
Good Tuesday, Madrigal and Fancy Colors recorded no singles (though Madrigal, at some point and not during Cervanek’s tenure, it’s rumored, did; but they were never released).
Eddy and the Upsets had a number of singles beginning in 1966, sometimes as Eddie Dimas & the Upsets. Most of their singles are Mexican guitar instrumentals or ballads, but “I Got News” sounds very garage. Recorded at Audio Recorders in Phoenix, it was released on Dektr ARA-41668 in 1966 with the ballad “Cry Cry Cry” on the flip.
The band formed at Phoenix Union high school. Eddie Dimas played lead guitar and sang some lead vocals. His older brother was Benny Dimas of the Majestic Five.
Jesus Escoto is on bass in the black & white photo and wrote “So Long”.
I don’t know the names of other members of the ’60s version of the band.
Dave Rivero wrote “I Got News” and the ballad “Don’t You Ever”.
Freddie Brown sings lead on “No Me Tengas Compacion”, the B-side to a single on Christy as Eddy Dimas and the K-Men. Freddie Brown had his own releases on Christy.
Arthur Castro co-arranged “El Mitote”, and Benny Dimas co-arranged “La Vieja Seca”. Ross Benavidez produced a 1970 single on the Lance label.
Johnny Collins produced the Dektr singles, while G.G. Hardin gets production credit for most of the Cristy singles. Christy collected a number of instrumentals for an album El Mosquito on Christy CR 5007.
Edward Dimas passed away on March 8, 2013, and his brother Bennie Dimas on April 12, 2018.
Thank you to Francisco Candia for suggesting this post and for providing info, photos, and scans of the singles.
This site is a work in progress on 1960s garage rock bands. All entries can be updated, corrected and expanded. If you have information on a band featured here, please let me know and I will update the site and credit you accordingly.
I am dedicated to making this site a center for research about '60s music scenes. Please consider donating archival materials such as photos, records, news clippings, scrapbooks or other material from the '60s. Please contact me at rchrisbishop@gmail.com if you can loan or donate original materials