Another One Bites The Dust

It is a simple fact of life that among the joy and festivities of the holiday season, sometimes we find ourselves to be the bearer of bad news. It is with the heaviest of hearts that I must disclose a sad event that took place within the Blaggards camp. Tom Ryan has officially run out of opinions.

At approximately 10:00 PM on Wednesday, December 5th during our weekly band dinner, Tom announced that "he actually liked the new Justin Timberlake CD" and in a sad and futile effort to put weight behind his words, made us listen to it.

The track he played, which thankfully went nameless preventing me from remembering anything about it, was infinite proof that Tom no longer was capable of rendering an opinion. An excellent example of the watered-down, over-processed pap that passes as R&B these days, Mr. Timberlake did his best Michael Jackson little boy warble over what sounded like a demo song on a portable keyboard.

The night had started off as usual. The Blaggards blasted through a bunch of songs in eager anticipation of the meal that Heidy was preparing upstairs. When we finished Tom took his customary post-practice shower, and ever the DJ, cued up his iTunes playlist which usually consisted of some esoteric, but somewhat listenable oddity that he "happened" to pull out that week. "This is a group of Monks who actually hum Thelonious Monk tunes - it's fascinating and I can't stop listening to it!" Then things went decidedly further south.

At first the Blaggards were speechless. Then we all thought it was a joke - occasionally Tom has shown flashes of a sense of humor. As we realized that he was actually serious we attempted to shake him out of it, hoping to give him a musical Heimlich maneuver sadly to no avail.

It may seem that watching a critic run out of opinions is like watching a baseball pitcher lose his arm or an opera singer lose her voice. However there is a major difference. In the case of critics, when they did have opinions, they didn't matter anyway. So although we felt a tinge of sadness with Tom's new found affections for Justin, we also took heart in the fact that we didn't have to listen to his comments on any other music from now on! After all, when Father Magillacuddy fondles little Timmy in the rectory, it kind of takes the punch out his Sunday homily. Yes, just like Imus, Barry Bonds and Senator Clark, we will never be able to look at Tom and his past opinions in quite the same way.

It is up to us to help him put a positive spin on this. Perhaps now he can concentrate on other things in his life, like oh let's say, drumming? It's not like being a critic was a good thing to begin with. Critics, like those fake holidays created by the greeting card companies, were created to sell newspapers, not as an actual meter of good or bad. The first critic, Og, was joyfully stoned to death after commenting on his neighbor's cave paintings. Unfortunately that sort of response has gone out of vogue. Similar to the old adage, "those who can do, those who can't teach" critics render opinions on the those who actually possess some kind of talent. If you care to argue that fact, read the previous sentence a few times aloud before going down that path. The simple truth is that critics are only useful to those who have absolutely no ability to determine whether they like something or not on their own. History is littered with their worthless rants - "Shakespeare, Smakespere" or "This Sinatra kid shouldn't quit his day job." Their attempts to be barometers of "cool" are even more pathetic - "Sigur Ros - The New Beatles!" or "Robert Pollard releases so much stuff that he must be a genius!"

You might attempt to build a case in arguing that even within things that suck, there are levels of suckiness. I am not going to dispute the fact the Justin Timberlake has legions of fans who deliver truck loads of money to his door every day. It's quite possible that among the insipid group of bland, ex-Mousekeeter pop stars that he is the best. However you can rest assured that aside from typing that last sentence I will never spend another second giving that any theory another thought. Sadly for Tom, he did and now is apparently no longer possess the ability to think rationally.

Tom Ryan is not the first person to be brought down by a moment of weakness. There are certainly any number of spirits - both ingested and imagined - that could have contributed to this gaff. Whatever the reason, it was still a sad moment to witness. In his defense he did try to slightly backspin his way to credibility by remarking that Timberlake was "hysterical on Saturday Night Live" a show that hasn't been truly funny since 1978. A sad and interesting ploy, as if being good at something else increases your musical validity. "I just found out that the bass player in Paper Lace likes kittens! Now I see "Billy Don't Be A Hero" in a whole new light!" Too little, too late Mr. Ryan.

As Blaggards do, we will stand by our man. That is until he attempts to get us to "appreciate" Mariah Carey or T-Pain. Then the only advice I can offer Tom is the last word that the aforementioned Og heard before the stones flew - Duck!

The Eighty-Four G Gal

Wow. I'm sure it's not the final number, but eighty-four thousand dollars worth of sex is either A) a LOT of sex or B) some REALLY good sex. My friend Russ thought that it was based on the quality of the girl in question, but come on - most guys can nab a pretty decent gal for free and unless that amount of cash gets you Jessica Alba or Scarlet Johanssen, there isn't a need to spend that much on the selection. Kristen is certainly attractive and seems like a very nice girl. Friendly as well I assume.

I think we all know that what the Gov was paying for was silence - and that didn't seem to work out too well for him now, did it? Somebody is always willing to beat your price - or sell your dirty laundry to the highest bidder.

Gary Jude Anderson

There are people who drift in and out of your life and the good ones are always as welcome as those first days of spring. They just make you feel good to see them. I've known Gary Jude for well over 20 years, and although we didn't hang out on a regular basis when our paths did cross I welcomed the chance to chat and catch up.

When Gary's mom called me on Friday, I knew instantly that the news was not going to be good. He had suffered a stroke a few years back which took it's toll. We were all shocked when he showed up at the Elvis show needing a cane to walk and obviously still recovering. Gary was all about the show - he wasn't going to let this setback slow him down at all. His performance was inspirational to say the least. Over the last two years his health was improving - he no longer needed the cane, his speech was much better and he was driving again. He was singing with the Northport Choral and was in great spirits, laughing and telling stories at the rehearsals for this year's show.

Those of you who knew Gary know what a unique individual he truly was. He was always Gary. He was not a slave to any fashion or trend. He had his own sense of style and stuck with it. He was passionate about music and loved to talk about it as much as he obviously enjoyed being on stage. I worked with Gary in the New Bohemians, the group that eventually became The Scofflaws. Gary's performances, whether it be his near channeling of James Brown to his spaghetti eating during our version of "The Good, The Bad and The Ugly," were sublime. He was always a welcome guest at Purple Gang gigs and he had been with The Elvis Show from the very beginning - a favorite of both the fans and the performers.

Gary suffered a massive stroke that took his life after a couple of days in the hospital. I was thankful that we did touch base this year - at the last minute - so he was able to take part in this year's show. He did a great job as usual and he was able spend time with some old friends. I know that on whatever journey he is on now, he making new ones.

An Elvis Show Video!

Elvis Show 2008 - Howie Mendelson

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Just one of the many great performances that night. Howie leads an all out guitar assault featuring Chris James, Rich Umbach and Matty Liott.

Super Tuesday - Get Out And Vote!

No soap box, no long-winded speeches. Go vote today. I am and I am voting for Hillary Clinton. If you are asking for reasons, do you not understand what "no soap box" means. Actually that's a pretty arcane reference for 2008 so I will cut you some slack. To the point - I actually believe that she truly wants to make a difference in the lives of average Americans and will try her best to wade through the swamp that is our government. Obama, god bless him, has already made some promises that he has no intentions to keep, as they are impossible. Clinton is aiming for the possible. She is also the first politician that I have heard in a long time that actually answers the questions asked and usually has a very good response as well. And she's HOT!

Only kidding about the "hot" reference - but you knew that, right?

Elvis Show 2008

The Elvis Show, which crawled back from the dead a few years ago, has now been officially "re-launched." I say officially because it sounds official. I say re-launched because it was officially a lot of work to launch it. Now that the ship has sailed, I can officially say it was a good time.

My friend Roy Wilson put the bug in my ear to do the show at Matty Ts - the last honky tonk on Long Island. It wasn't a bad idea - Matty's has a stage, although it is more like a corral, cheap beer and a the aforementioned honky tonk vibe. At last year's event the most common complaint I heard was that you couldn't see the performers, so a stage was pretty much required. You wouldn't think that a club with a stage is that hard to find on Long Island, but it is. Finding a club with a stage that would understand what the Elvis Show is all about and actually let me hold there is a whole other thing. So, Matty's was pretty much a lock from the day Roy mentioned it.

After a few rounds of the usual club owner nonsense, we were all set. I started making some calls, sending out some emails, dropping some hints. I always like to have a few new faces take part, I can always count on some of the old faces to be there and then there is always those unusual faces that pop in and out of my life. Twenty odd years down the road, getting this bunch of people together results in a very heady mix that brews more off stage than on. I have no idea (or I have forgotten) who slept with who, who slept with who's wife/husband/lover/brother/sister/mother/father, who kicked who out of which band, and so on and so forth. One of my blessings is really not giving a rat's ass about that kind of stuff in the first place. I may have found myself to be the center of some good gossip once or twice in my life, but I have no real interest in other people's lives, even the parts I'm supposed to care about which is a constant annoyance to some of my friends and family. So blind to any ill timed reunions or that I may be fanning the ashes of some long cooled romance, I went forward recruiting people for show.

In the end, it was a great night. We literally packed the club - at one point they had to stop letting people in. We raised a ton of food and a bunch of money. You can read, see and hear all about it on the MySpace page.

And next year we will do it again.

Bond, Savings Bond

My collecting days are over. Way over. I never really collected anything anyway. I bought a lot of junk, real junk. I liked buying junk. It made me happy. Then it became this giant chain around my neck. All of a sudden I was being forced to justify being surrounded by this junk. I had always thought that wanting something was reason enough to have it. The wheels seem to have come off on that train of thought.

I have managed to rid myself of a lot of the junk, passed it on to other junk lovers, sold it at garage sales, on eBay and now Craig's list. There is still a lot of junk, don't get me wrong. Guitars that I will never really play, books that I probably won't ever read, records that I may never listen to again. All of this junk sits there and sends out an ever weakening signal, pleading with me to pick it up, dust it off and recapture a bit of the spark that went off when we first met.

Yet there is room in my life for one more piece of junk. It's my holy grail of junk, the one thing that ever since it left my life, so many years ago, I have been trying to replace it.

The James Bond Attache Case.

I was one of the lucky ones. I had this toy as a boy. I have never loved any material item more. I played with it constantly, putting together the rifle, setting up the booby traps and basically threating my sister with constant bodily harm. Things took a turn for the better when I found out I could load a pencil into the single shot that was built into the case and shoot it right through sheet rock. Those were the days! Besides the gun, the highlight of the toy was the secret decoder. Sadly, I didn't know one other junior agent with whom I could trade secret messages. Now that I am in my fifties and no longer have this toy it seems as if every other guy I meet is trying to get theirs back as well.

And try is about all we can do.

They are pretty much up on eBay all of the time and if you find one that has all of the pieces (especially the knife and the golf pencil with "007" embossed on the side) you can expect to pay close to a thousand bucks. There is even a cottage industry of repro items for the toy - the bullets, the knife, the handle, the silencer, the money, business cards, instructions and original box can all be purchased as repros to complete your set.

I've come close a few times and I keep waiting for my wife to understand and buy me the damn thing. Sadly, that will never happen. After my little health scare this year I was determined to do a bunch of the things that I have been putting off. So far, I have put off trying to do the things I have been putting off. But something tells me this will be the year of the James Bond Attache.

The Mets Lose! THE MEEEEEETTTTTSSSS LOSE!

My wife has issues with the fact that I enjoy seeing the Mets lose and that the fact that they lost the division on the last day of the season makes me giddy. "How can you take pleasure in other's pain," she asks. Oh, it's easy, believe me.

I have been trying to remember why I became a Mets hater. I grew up in a Mets house and wasn't much of a baseball fan until I was a teenager. It wasn't a very hard choice as to which of the local teams was the better choice. One seemed to win all of the time - or at least had a long winning tradition, while the other just lost. Constantly. The Yankees had legendary names attached to their roster, while the Mets ... didn't. And the colors! Orange and blue. Not for this boy.

Maybe its because I had a couple of guitars stolen from the Shea Stadium parking lot, including my treasured '69 Telecaster. Maybe its because so many Met fans are assholes (excluding my father, father-in-law, brother-in-law and you, of course). Maybe it's just because the Mets suck.

I think it's much tougher for anyone to explain why they are a Mets fan. Outside of some displaced family loyalty, why anyone would choose to follow this miserable excuse for a baseball team is beyond me.

I didn't get to watch the last out of their incredible slide. Too bad. I really wanted to see what kind of hand shake Jose Reyes had ready for that. Then again, he probably didn't realize that there were three outs.

Magic In The Air

I am standing on the boardwalk in Asbury Park, the once and future diamond of the New Jersey coastline and I can literally feel the sands shifting beneath my feet. I don't visit here often, but in the past decade I have traveled here with some regularity. Unfortunately, I never visited during the town's glory days - instead I have only seen the ghosts of it's well-sung past. It has always puzzled me that how a stretch of beautiful ocean front property could fall into such disrepair, especially when it seems as if it would be able generate considerable revenue if kept up.

This year however, change is in the air. The crumbling buildings that gave the area a sense of gloom have been knocked to the ground. New construction is taking place, as are renovations of some classic buildings. The Stone Pony and The Wonder Bar still stand, however the Wonder Bar will close this week, not to return. As far as the Pony, I am not sure of its fate.

Last year, when I was here to see Bruce Springsteen rehearse the Seeger Sessions Band, I ducked into the old Hojo's for a beer while my sister waited on the general admission line. I don't even know if the place had a name, but it was a pretty sad affair. Now it is a very upscale restaurant, with outdoor seating on the boardwalk. I'm pretty sure the beer cost me a bit more this year, but the upgrade was worth it. There are other new additions to the boardwalk - a few galleries and t-shirt shops. Madam Marie is still standing if you want to get a peak into the future, but for all intents and purposes, things are looking up for Asbury Park.

All things considered it still must take a leap of faith to be among the first to open while the city slowly rebuilds around you. I wish them well. I hope that someday soon I will get a chance to walk down the boardwalk, grab a beer and hear the sounds of rock and roll bands blasting out of the clubs along the strip and perhaps see, feel and hear a few ghosts of the past.

There was no leap of faith in what brought me to Asbury Park on Tuesday night. Once again, for the third tour in a row, I was lucky to get tickets to see Bruce Springsteen warm up his band for the upcoming tour.

What can I say? The band and the Boss sounded great. The new songs are fantastic. There were no major surprises in regards to older songs - he did do "Thundercrack" in the encore and the night before performed "Something In The Night." I thought the pacing was a little off, but that's what these shows are all about.

It has been 34 years since my first Bruce Springsteen concert. That is a lot of water under the bridge. At 58, the days of jumping off the piano and the classic knee slide across the stage are behind him. No matter. There have been a lot of changes along the way and in the past few years I have seem some incredible shows.

Of course I am a die hard, biased fan. Was a time when if you told me that you didn't care for Springsteen I would take it as a personal challenge to show you the error of your ways. Sometimes I made a conversion, sometimes not. Now I just smile and let it pass. Who needs another fool in front of me on line. Like Bruce, there are some things that I am just getting too old to deal with.

Once A King ....

It was a pleasure hanging out with my old friend Mark Gamsjager and his band The Lustre Kings at Matty T's this past Saturday night. It had been way too long since I had seen Mark and it was great to catch up, talk about the kids, and play some rock and roll music.

No matter what you think of Matty T's you have to admit that there is no place else like it - at least not for a few hundred miles. Maybe the vibe comes from the location which can best described as somewhere between desolate and creepy. Certainly the honky tonk hardwood floor and the split rail fence that surrounds it adds a bit of flavor, as does the washtubs behind the bar that hold that evening's beer specials. But it's the mix of people who show up that really make Matty's special. Well maybe not special, but definitely different. Ok, weird - but weird in a good way.

What a mix of people it is! There are the dancers, of course. This is their joint, their dance floor and rightfully so. Even within that group there are different flavors - you have your urban cowboys and cowgirls, doing it right from the heels of their boots to the tops of their Stetson's. Add to that a few biker types, a few soccer moms, a couple of guys who are barely out of their PJs and you have quite an eclectic bunch.

Then you have the folks who come down to see the bands, which in this case were people like my friends and you know what kind of people they are.

But the most confusing group are these younger guys and gals who look like this is the last place on earth they would want to be - yet there they are. Maybe they come for the $2 beers or perhaps they thought that Spike - the mechanical bull - was scheduled for that night. Who knows.

The Blaggards were first up and we did our thing, mostly without incident. I had forgotten to print out set lists and all we had was a printed email of the set. Since we are a bunch of vain bastards and don't wear our glasses on stage, none of us could read it, making for some comical moments. I also forgot to pull the capo off and started a song in the wrong key while the band scrambled - and quite adeptly made the change. The dancers came on and off the dance floor as they always do, depending on the BPM of the song. It's such a strange situation - you don't really want to cater to them, but you feel good when the dance floor is filled - that is until you realize that they are not really listening to the music, but counting the beats, most of them concentrating so hard on the steps and turns that they have this vacant look on their face making you feel as if you are playing to a bunch of carousel ponies spinning around, going up and down.

The Lustre Kings took the stage and rocked. Mark, as always, is a great entertainer and band leader - and a terrific guitar player no matter how he tries to downplay his talents. As always he surrounds himself with terrific musicians and pulls off the very rare feat of sounding both authentically rootsy and modern at the same time. The set included tunes from the band's latest CD including the great title track, "Way Out There."

The night ended with Mark bringing up guests including a surprise call to the bouncer who sang a couple of Elvis tunes - and did a great job. It was like old times - when Mark was living on Long Island, this was Saturday night - rockin' out at the PI or Costello's, passing around the Gretsch, taking turns at the mic, closing the joint down and heading to the nearest diner for cheeseburgers and french fries with gravy.

Another Summer Gone

Last weekend The Blaggards filled in for our good friends The Lone Sharks at Nick's in Montauk. It was big time fun. The weather was great, if a bit cold, but that didn't stop folks from coming by having a few cocktails and listening to the band. The staff at Nick's could not be any cooler and I think we will be a part of their line up come next summer.

Our summer was mostly spent on the East End this year. We had some great gigs on Shelter Island - the Fireman's annual event, always a treat, and a swinging night at the Dory a few weekend's ago after Joe Lauro's annual Beach Blast. A big highlight for us was being asked to take part in the legendary Barge Party - a floating event for the aquatically inclined. The weather was stunning, the beer plentiful and Mick's boat sea-worthy.

There were a few shows at the Talkhouse this summer and that's always a good time if only to play on that stage aside from the god-awful single-coil buzz. We had a spot after Sonny Landreth which turned out to be a great night due mainly to the incredible support of a few very nice looking fans. We are lucky to have a small, but good-looking fan base.

This weekend we are hooking up with The Lustre Kings for a swingin' Saturday night at Matty T's in Deer Park. It's been a while since I've seen Mark and the boys and I'm really looking forward to hanging out. It's going to be a lot of fun, so come on down if you're in the area.

Elvis, Still Dead

This year August 16th rolled around and if not for a quick late night trip to the store I would have not have heard an Elvis song that day or seen a news report about the 30th anniversary of his passing. The 50s channel on the XM was doing a nice job of playing tribute - the DJ was touching on the King's spiritual side. An alternate take of "Peace In The Valley" was playing when I pulled into the parking lot of the local Stop N Shop.

As I stepped inside the store I couldn't help but notice a large display of Reese's Peanut Butter Cups. I was never a fan and now they are completely off of my diet radar, but this was no ordinary candy.

It was a special edition Elvis Peanut Butter and Banana version, complete with his portrait on the wrapper.

A special edition candy bar to commemorate his passing.

Of all the Elvis myths/legends I am especially fond of the peanut butter and banana sandwich stories mainly because I actually like them but I thought that this was a little odd. I definitely began to question the Elvis estate and its new owner's intent.

I started to remember the background of the peanut butter and banana sandwich. There is the simple story as told by longtime Graceland cook/housekeeper Pauline Nicholson who claims to have prepared them for Elvis. But Elvis Presley's personal nurse, Marian Cocke, says she never saw him with one in hand and she is backed up by Lisa Marie. From there the tales get bigger - from Elvis wolfing down a dozen or so sandwiches at a time to him dispatching his private jet, the Lisa Marie, off to Denver to pickup a few from a favorite restaurant.

There are variations of the sandwich itself, sometimes with bacon, sometimes with honey. The Denver variant was a full loaf of french bread, deep fried. I prefer the basic two ingredients, on buttered bread pan grilled in a cast iron skillet.

Now I admit that I have had fun with this little slice of the Elvis pie. I have made variations of the sandwich to serve at parties, including peanut butter and banana in puff paistry and bacon wrapped peanut butter and pineapple incorporating some of the Hawaiian aspect as well.

But a candy bar to mark thirty years gone?

Why the hell not? The packaging was actually quite cool - the Reese's trademark orange worked well with the 70's art and image (with 50s and 60s variants) and they have a good contest to support the launch - click here to enter.

What exactly are we suppose to do on this day? If you're not one of the pilgrims holding candles by the gates what is the plan? Take the day off? Not likely. Spend the day listening to Elvis? That could be any day. An All-Elvis movie marathon? Please.

Heat up the skillet and let's get cooking.

There were a few other interesting Elvis events to mark the occaison, the most notable was a newly recorded duet between Lisa Marie and her dad revisiting "In The Ghetto." Early on Lisa made a point of saying this was the kind of thing she just not do, to which we responded "Are you out of your mind?" Your his daughter! This is your legacy. Sheesh. It's about time.

Me And The Boy

Heading towards what will be the first Christmas that Liam will have some idea of what's going on I find myself wondering just how much the little guy understands the world around him. Certainly he's got his parents number - we get conned on a daily basis. If he wasn't so darn cute I would have a real problem with him!

My 80's Past

First it was YouTube. Pat Bishow starting posting vintage Mosquito videos much to the delight of tens of people. My associates at the office, especially the *younger* ones, certainly got a kick out of them. It was fun to see them and I have to get off my ass and post some stuff that I have. Now there is a fierce bidding war on eBay for the Mosquitos EP, a sealed copy no less. Actually there are two bids, with the current bid at $36. Considering I just bought the new Who CD for $9.99 I am impressed.

http://cgi.ebay.com/ws/eBayISAPI.dll?ViewItem&item=230047946329&ssPageName=ADME:B:EF:US:1

Rebel, Rebel

Most of us who play guitar become someone different when we strap on our instrument. Ralph Santiago transformed into Ralph Rebel when he came to play. I knew Ralph from the rockabilly scene and to be honest I thought he came off as a bit of a snob but the man could play, was a talented producer and his love and respect for the genre was the real deal. Its upsetting that the unfortunate events that led up to him taking the cure will perhaps define the man and it is a sad example of how selfish and uncaring the media can be. That being said I will point you here where you can check out Ralph's musical legacy. Rock on brother.

The Little Willies

I heard the Little Willies on the radio and thought they sounded pretty good. Then I found out that Norah Jones was in the band. Now I hate them.

Life is funny that way.

The Elvis Show Must Go On!

Saturday, January 7th, 2006. By the time the curtain dropped on Elvis Show IX in 1998, we had done just about everything. We had singing dentists and insurance agents. We had a kid bring down the house. We had an actual replica of Elvis and Priscilla's wedding cake on stage. I had been brought on stage on a surfboard. There was an Elvis poet who recited poems specially written for the show. We had performed such chartbusters as "Do The Clam" and "Yoga Is As Yoga Does." The last three years were sold-out performances in a 600 seat theater. And then it all ended.

The reasons were many. First there was greed. The owner of the IMAC theater in Huntington had charged us $2500 to rent the room for the past three years. I was lucky enough to find a sponsor every year to cover this cost, so we could donate all of the proceeds to charity. I made my annual call and was told that the fee was going to be double - $5000 - due in part to "trouble he had with a Zen Tricksters show." What that had to do with my show I will never know. But that was just too much money to ask anybody to pony up and I had to find a room that would accomodate what had become a pretty huge undertaking with over 20 musicians and 40 plus singers taking part.

Then a death in the family took a lot of the wind out of our sails. That, combined with some fragile relationships between core band members led to my decision to call it off for that year. Which then turned into an eight year layoff. Thing is it was a lot like hitting your head against the wall - you don't realize how good it feels to stop! Not that it wasn't always a great event - with great people, but it was a lot of work. And when it slipped away, it was easier to let it go then to reel it back in.

Well, it's back.

After getting the call from Scotto I wasn't quite sure that I could put anything together in a week. My current band, The Blaggards, were on a hiatus so that wasn't going to work. Then Scott told me that Mike Bifulco said he was "ready to anything I needed." If that was the case, then what had to be done was obvious - I had to put together the old band - and with a few phone calls, The Purple Gang was set to ride again.

I knew that there would be no problem getting singers involved. Because this happened with such short notice - I only had a week before the gig - I couldn't have an open call like past Elvis shows. So I sent out a few emails to the guys who had been there from the beginning - Tom Ciorciari, Tom Pfeifer, Roy Wilson, Jon Geffner, Mike Drance and Tom Gould. Drance and Geffner called with regrets, but I was glad to get a call from Gary Jude Anderson and Pete Ludivicio, both long time Elvis Show performers. To round it out and continue the Elvis Show tradition, we had a couple of newbies - Bill Walsh and Keith Hille.

We decided that since this was a comeback of sorts, we would pay tribute to the '68 Comeback Special and open the show with an acoustic session. We had two rehersals, one with the band and the singers and one for the acoustic set. Then it was showtime!



The bar, a joint called Drew's in Centerport was small. Really, really small. I was told that it was small, but I had no idea. We set up best we could and hit the stage. The opening set was a blast. We went around trading songs with Memphis Mike slapping away on a Rendezvous ribs box. Then after a short break the band took the stage. It didn't feel like 8 years since I had last played with these guys - and, if I say so myself, it didn't sound like either. We ran through the 30-plus song set without stopping, bringing up each singer with great support from the crowd, which was flowing out through the door. It was fun to watch the expression on some of the regulars who came in wondering what the hell was going on! There were girls dancing on the bar, a rockin' band and great hair everywhere you looked. This was no ordinary Saturday night in Centerport!

Everybody rocked. Gary Jude, recovering from a stroke and walking with a cane, still had boundless energy. New comers Bill Walsh and Keith Hille fit right in and are welcome back anytime. All the regulars - Tom C, Tom P, Tom G, Roy Wilson, Pete - delivered as they always do. Even Scotto got in the act as a guitar was passed around during Little Sister for solos.

I have to really hand it off to the band - Mike Bifulco, who is as good as it gets on guitar; Sean O'Neil, just the go-to guy for something like this; and, of course, Memphis Mike who's love for the music makes everything real. The crowd was great, too. I don't know what it is about the Elvis Show audience, but they just get it. They support everybody who steps on that stage, giving big cheers to all. However I think that the biggest cheer of the night came when I announced that after the eight year layoff, we would be doing the show again on a yearly basis. I'm not saying that it is going to be on the level of the last few Elvis shows, but we'll see what happens.

You can see a clip from this year's show here.

It's Official - I Am The World's Worst Blogger

Try as I may, I never seem to have the time to write posts for my blog. Not that the world is waiting for each of my little stories - but if for no other reason just to add my views and opinions on to the scrap heap that we call the world wide web. But it is a new year - happy new year, btw - and hopefully things will improve. I do want to continue with the Mosquito story and keep tabs on my new band, The Blaggards who - if I do say so myself - rock quite rightly.

For me and mine 2006 has begun on a great note. My son Liam is at the zenith of little guy glory and at 18 months, a bonafide genius (in his parent's opinion). As I mentioned earlier, my band is sounding great and the addition of Mick Hargreaves on bass has really taken things up a level. A great player, singer and a very cool guy as well.

Right after the new year I received a call from none other than Scott Savit (Hey Steve! It's Scotty Watty Do Dah Day!). I see/hear from Scotto about once a year so it's always a treat. He was looking to put on an Elvis birthday tribute at some local pub - still doing his thing - and was reaching out to me out of respect. It has been some years since I did the last Elvis Show and I had passed on his request last year, handing over to Roy Wilson and the Buzzards. I was about to do the same this year when he mentioned that Mike Bifulco had told him to tell me that "he was ready, willing and able to do anything that I needed."

For those of you who do not know Mike the thing you need to know is that he is supremely talented individual. And when Mike is up for something you are guaranteed to have a good time. We had played together for years, first in the Purple Gang and then the Bluebeats, but in the past few years had lost touch. It didn't matter - we got together to go over some of the songs and it was great.

And with that, the Elvis Show was back. A phone call to Memphis Mike, who then called Sean O'Neil and like that the Purple Gang was back for one big night. This was going to be an old-school Elvis Show - no production numbers, no big band - just the Gang, back in a bar, inviting friends up to celebrate the King. One rehearsal - 45 songs! - and it's showtime!

It wasn't possible to put out an open call, but I reached out to some of the originals. Tom Pfeifer, Tom Coriciari and Roy Wilson, who had performed at all 10 previous Elvis Shows came right on board. Joe Rock and Tom Gould who have been highlights of the more recent shows answered the call. Sadly, originals Jon Geffner and Mike Drance couldn't make it due to prior commitments. Then I get a call from the man himself - Gary Jude Anderson! Gary, who had a stroke earlier this year, was also an original performer. And to keep the tradition alive a few new faces will make the scene.

We decided we would kick off the night '68 special style - sitting around doing an acoustic thing before th band kicks in. Don't worry - I will NOT be dressed in a leather suit!

It all happens at a little joint called Drew's in Centerport on Saturday, January 7th. No cover and no guarantees. If you are around, come down and kick off the year Elvis style!

Think I'm Going Back

Its been a very interesting year for me concert-wise, kind of a turn back the clock type of thing as I celebrate my fiftieth year. Most of the artists I've seen this year I saw perform in the mid seventies. Dylan, Springsteen, McCartney, Brian Wilson, Stevie Windwood and Cream - well, I had never seen Cream. All great shows with some degree of a nostalgic vibe, some more than others.

Springsteen is on an solo tour and I caught one of his rehearsal performances. While I did get swept back when he pulled out some of the early ones, Bruce is a man in the moment. Dylan, even more so. There is absolutely nothing nostalgic about a Bob Dylan show except the audience, most of whom seem to look like Comic Book Guy from the Simpsons. But seeing Dylan brings me back to 1972 and The Concert For Bangladesh. Iain Morrison and I went to the afternoon show. It was a big deal, seeing all those guys on stage but the big buzz was about Dylan in a much talked about secret appearance. (Side note: Recently Tom Ryan played a side of one of Leon Russell's 70's releases after one of our band rehearals. It was killer from every angle.)

I am way to biased to talk about Brian Wilson - but Smile at Jones Beach was sublime - and although the other part of his show does run a bit like an oldies act - what oldies act do you know that can pull "God Only Knows" or "Warmth Of The Sun" out of their pocket? Seeing Smile after having to give up my Carnegie Hall tickets was the first musical gift I received this year. I hope Brian Wilson lives to be one hundred years old. Brian brings me back into the sixties, especially 1968, the year my Aunt Millie gave me a repackaged 3-LP set that Capitol put out. The set included "Pet Sounds" which sounded like the best thing in the world to me then - and as it does now.

I don't think Paul McCartney will ever be labeled an oldies act. Especially if he continues to perform the way he has on these past two tours. Incredible band who almost fade into the background as your mind just fills out the picture with John, George and Ringo. There's always the few new tunes to deal with - but "Fine Line" from the latest record is actually pretty good. With the mortality rate in the Beatles and the fact that Paul can still bring it, I always consider the chance to catch one of his shows a gift.

Seeing Cream was - I thought - the icing on the cake. Loved this band. Still listen to them - although sometimes I do shout "ENOUGH ALREADY" and lunge for the next track button. The show was great and I thought it was an awesome way to cap off my musical journey into my past.

But waiting in the wings, coming to bat and hitting it out of the park is my main guy - Bruce. The 30th Anniversary release of
"Born To Run" came out today. The re-mastered album sounds terrific and the "making of" documentary is pretty informative and funny. But the main attraction is the concert disc from his performance at the Hammersmith Odeon in 1975.

I can't go into my Bruce Springsteen experience during the 70's in too much detail as it pretty much touches on almost my entire life during those years. In the documentary Springsteen says that it was easy to spend months working on the record since he was "25 years old and had nothing to do and nowhere to go" - an almost spot-on description of me as well, but I think he worked a bit harder at changing things then I did. What I can say about seeing Bruce Springsteen in the 1970s is "I hope you saw Bruce Springsteen in the 1970s."

Seeing this concert was like teleporting back in time. Its not be the greatest Springsteen show ever filmed and you will find yourself hoping to hear a certain version or a changed lyric that stuck in your head for years. But this is the band, this is their time and yes, they have gotten better over the years, but they were never more exciting then they were then. Even with the funny hats and shiny suits.

Getting the re-mastered "Born To Run" would have been great all by itself. This concert disc - along with three incredible performances from 1973 on the documentary disc - are yet another gift. I don't think anything can top this unless its revealed that Moon and Entwistle aren't really dead, just getting out of a very long rehab.

Look! Up In The Sky!

Recently I have been spending my nights watching episodes of "The Adventures Of Superman" on the newly released first season DVD set. This has always been one of my all-time favorite shows and although it still probably being broadcast on one of the zillion cable channels, I haven't seen it in years. Its a treat to watch them in order, starting with the rarely seen origin episode which although dated still keeps the story true to its comic book beginnings. While the effects are pretty much laughable in this CGI world, there is still an undeniable sense of quality to these shows in the writing and acting, especially on the part of George Reeves. Lizz, who basically hates science fiction, has been watching and enjoying these, probably because of their retro charm. She can almost recite the opening monologue!

I can remember coming home from school and waiting to hear that exciting opening ... "Faster than a speeding bullet!" I hope that somehow Liam can watch and enjoy these before he would see them as hopelessly out-of-date.

A whole bunch of fun and a deal at under $30 for 26 episodes!