Oasis/Dig Out Your Soul

This the Oasis album that should have come after (What’s The Story) Morning Glory? – the third great album fans have been waiting for. Closest in spirit to their debut Definitely Maybe, it’s tighter than their last two good albums Heathen Chemistry and Don’t Believe the Truth with a much better single. Hopefully it will find the appreciation Radiohead and Foo Fighters recently enjoyed. The first song “Bag It Up” has the Gallaghers taking on fear:  “Somebody tell me I’m dreaming/The freaks are coming up through the floor”/I’ve got my heebeejeebees hidden in a bag” with soaring, classic guitar and throaty vocal bravado. “The Turning” has a Kid A Radiohead beat, but sped up into an exciting rocker – the kind Radiohead may have made in a parallel universe where they took Bono’s advice to make a pop hit. Setting a theme that continues into the next song, Oasis uses imagery of Adam & Eve and the Christian Rapture. Where they began their careers declaring they wanted to “Live Forever”; here they face mortality (“I’m tired, come pick me off this merry-go-round”) but see love and living life to the fullest as the obvious answer. “Grab your guitar when the rapture takes me…will you be by my side?”

“The Shock of The Lightning” opens with an air raid, complete with plane noises and strafing machine gun drums. Vintage “Supersonic” guitar hooks explode. The chorus “Love is a time machine/Up on the silver screen” doesn’t worry about making sense because it’s too busy kickin’ arse. Returning to the mortality theme, “I’m Outta Time” is a touching Liam piano ballad on the final days of John Lennon. “If I’m to fall would you be there to applaud/Or would you hide behind them all.” It ends with powerful dialog from Lennon himself. Oasis is the one band that could pull this song off, and does.

“Get Off Your High Horse Lady” is a bluesy, hand-clapper kiss-off that fits with their last single “Lord Don’t Slow Me Down.” “Falling Down” is a shoegazer song with swirly guitars, strings and psychedelic lyrics about dreams and butterflies before turning defiant: “I try to talk to God to no avail/I said ‘If you can’t save me, then please don’t waste my time.’ “

The Chemical Brothers remix of that song (available separately) is bombastic. Had the two bands collaborated on a full album during the ’90s (The Chemical Gallagher Brothers?) matching Oasis’s rock-craft charisma with cutting-edge techno production, I think they could have created the best CD of that decade. It’s not too late. “To Be Where There’s Life” continues the psychedelia with a George Harrison-influenced sitar piece. “Ain’t Got Nothin’” (the most swaggering song Liam has written) kicks the door back in like ‘Force Of Nature’ demanding “The Truth,” with a more jangly, blues rock take from The Who. 

“Nature of Reality” returns to hippyland with shaky maracas, building into a glam rockier, reverberating update of “Helter Skelter”-era Beatles. “The nature of reality/Is pure subjective fantasy” seems to answer the question posed by the previous track. I’m amazed how well the brothers’ songs intertwine. The haunting ending “Soldier On” ends with a plodding, martial beat. A bold choice that leaves the brothers’ song personas toiling onwards – not at the promised land, but refusing to give up as though at the end of a cliff hanger movie sequel. Which of course leaves us looking forward again to the next exciting Oasis chapter.

http://www.oasisus.com

Tied to the Stone belongs to the Neil Young school of Americana, built on a foundation of country and folk but given a classic-rock kick. Based in California, Tied to the Stone more closely resembles the roots-oriented acts of the late ’60s and early ’70s (I could imagine them opening up for the Band or Poco) than much of what passes for Americana today. Lead singer Dan Worley discusses the meanings and origins of the group.

Carson James: The name of the band: Tied to the Stone. It can have two meanings, one positive, one negative. The positive being that the stone is a solid foundation, such as spiritual faith that you’re devoted to; the negative being that it’s something that is holding you in place, preventing you from moving forward. Which side of the coin is it on?

Dan Worley: I named the band after the song. I wrote “Tied To The Stone” on one of the worst days of my life. I wanted to give up on everything. I didn’t know what else to do so I sat down at the piano to try and sort it all out; that’s when the song came out. I could feel God giving me that song as a blessing to help remind me what was important and to hang onto Jesus and not let go. He’s the Stone I’m tied to. I decided to name the band Tied To The Stone to keep reminding me. I need a lot of reminders or I take over and screw everything up.

James: Your songs strike me as being quite personal. Were any of them uncomfortable to write?

Worley: Extremely so. For the most part, I enjoy writing songs, but for me it’s always a journey into uncomfortable territory because I end up having to wrestle with feelings and issues and aspects about myself and the world that I’d rather ignore. I’d love to just write about how hot and sexy and wonderful I am (like so many songs I’m hearing on the airwaves), but for some reason that never seems to come out. I wonder why? Even the happier more positive-sounding songs can be uncomfortable to write because it takes me a lot of internal processing to get to that point. I cop out once in a while, for sure. Out of fear, I may not go the entire distance to explore what it is the song is trying to reveal to me, or I just don’t have the talent or patience to get there artistically, so I end up taking short cuts and missing some of the scenery. Many of the songs for the album were specifically uncomfortable to write because they deal with pain I’ve carried with me since my youth, self-inflicted and otherwise.

James: Do you consciously write songs with the goal of longevity or are you not even conscious of that during the process of penning them?

Worley: Longevity, no. Integrity (hopefully), yes. When writing, I never think about if a song’s sounding like a hit or if it’s current or if it will have staying power, or anything like that. I want to write what’s truthful and meaningful to me at the time I write it, and it has to have the right feel and sound and fit. Songs are not commodities to me; they are a form of therapy and a way of communicating with myself and others.
I do want people to listen, and I do want them to get something out of them and like them, and I try to do the best I can so that will happen, but I can’t write specifically for a market or for posterity’s sake.

James: Is Tied to the Stone a real group or is it just you and session musicians? How did everyone get together?

Worley: We’re all friends who have played music together in one way or another throughout the years.

James: When did you start your musical career? Let us hear your story.

Worley: I’ve been writing songs for 40 years, since I was 12. In and out of bands and work for a lot of that time. Gave it up and tried “regular” jobs so I could raise a family. Bored me to tears (the jobs, not my
family). I always kept writing. Went to work for my producer Carolyn Wing Greenlee at her studio. She took a liking to my songs and encouraged me to do something with them, and she supported that effort.

http://www.tiedtothestone.com

Yves Villeneuve/The Chorus Man

The Chorus Man is a pretty cheerful title for an album that honestly should only be played with the lights out. Yves Villeneuve has a deep, raspy, blues-tinged voice that is reminiscent of Mark Lanegan, former lead singer of the Screaming Trees. Like Lanegan, Villeneuve sings from the gut, his brooding baritone rooted in some inner pain. With Villeneuve, his angst may stem from unrequited love as the slow-boiling songs
“I’m Sleeping Single in Love” and “Will She Say Hello Again” reveal. “Won’t forget your lovely face,” aches Villeneuve on “I’m Sleeping Single in Love.”

The music doesn’t shift in tone or style much as Villeneuve is locked in a fuzz-drenched groove throughout much of the CD. The distorted rocker “See River Flow (North)” is reminiscent of R.E.M.’s grungy makeover on their mid-’90s Monster album. “A Dream I Had Last Night,” consciously or not, owes a debt to Joy Division’s sinister post-punk rhythms. As you can tell from these descriptions, The Chorus Man isn’t packed with laughs; however, if you’re in the mood for dimly-lit confessions, you won’t find much better right now in the indie scene.

http://www.yvesvilleneuve.com

Bob Petrocelli has a blunt style of music; it can help mend a bitter heart on a rainy day, and a happy heart in a sunny day. All in one, “Six Feet of Fun” makes one get up and remember the day when they saw the most beautiful woman they have ever seen. When Petrocelli brings his blues background in “Lady With a Plan,” we can hear his heart drench with anxiety and fear that a his woman has a plan. His guitar riffs are precise and promising in his album; in fact, we can see who Petrocelli is as a musician in “Gulf Coast Blues” and “Threw My Love Away”: blunt, straight to the point.

Conrad Javier: Every artist can recall a time of hardship in their music career; when was yours and what did you learn from your experience?

Bob Petrocelli: When I was 25 years old I was sharing a house with two other people and working in a touring show band.  Simultaneously I was fired from the band and lost both roommates.  I returned from the road trip and had to sell most of my equipment,  wound up scrounging for food, and ultimately had to take a day job to survive.  I lost the road gig because I didn’t want to do choreography while playing.  I thought I was a “serious” musician, above that kind of stuff.  There was a lot to be learned from this, such as the need for planning, knowing what you’re getting into and what’s expected of you; limiting your exposure to risk as much as possible.  In retrospect, that experience may have made me overcautious.  As a result, I think I missed a lot of opportunities over the years.

Javier: Since you are a more seasoned artist who is in tune with himself, what would you tell a young musician who is just starting his music career?

Petrocelli: I think the thing I would say is know exactly what you want to achieve and then develop plans to make that happen.  Don’t get discouraged by rejection.  Many great artists had trouble getting signed to record deals.  Today we have the internet.  There are constantly expanding online opportunities.  These days an artist can have much greater control over how his/her career progresses.  Don’t give up.

Javier: You have a really nice voice and remind me of Elvis Presley just a tad bit. Would you say you can relate to Elvis?

Petrocelli: Wow. I’m very flattered to be compared to Elvis. My girlfriend says I sound like Mick Jagger.  I can definitely relate to Elvis. I was a little kid when rock & roll first hit and I remember all the commotion surrounding him.  I’ve been very influenced by the very first wave of rockers from the ’50s.  I’m really still a little self-conscious about my vocals. I’ve been a guitarist my whole life and just started seeing myself as a singer and songwriter. Thank you.

Javier: What is your ultimate goal as an artist, and how would you be able to attain your goal?

Petrocelli: My ultimate goal is to continue writing and be able to release a CD of new material every year to two years and develop enough of a fan base to tour to support these releases.  Since this is my first release under my own name after years as a sideman I’m starting from the ground up.  So far I’m getting some airplay in Europe (Netherlands, Belgium, France, Italy) and a feature on the syndicated “Blues Deluxe” program in the US.  I don’t think this is bad for a self-released CD only out a month.  I’m working on booking some festivals for next year as well as some local New York City gigs. One of the next things I would like to achieve is getting some booking assistance.  That would make things a lot easier.

Javier: As a fan of your music, would you do a world tour?

Petrocelli: I certainly would like to tour anywhere where my music might be appreciated.  A world tour would be great, but I think the immediate target would be the European market where I seem to be getting some interest at present.

http://www.bobpetrocelli.com

Chad Kichula/World Shaker

Apparently the title cut of this three-track EP was inspired by the 1967 Paul Newman film Cool Hand Luke. Having not seen the movie since I was a child, I’m unable to identify the lyrical references to it but it might be noteworthy trivia to the enlightened. For the rest of us, its strengths lies in its Bruce Springsteen-ish rush of power acoustic riffs, electric sparks, and charging drums. It’s beefy Americana driven by Chad Kichula’s big, cocky voice. Sick of wuss rock? This is as macho as it gets without resorting to Metallica.

The two remaining tunes don’t pack the wallop of the single but they are nevertheless tasty meat-and-potatoes rock & roll. The violin-powered “Another Love” displays Kichula’s sensitive side, a pretty unplugged number that shifts to the subtle regions of Kichula’s vocals. “Gotta Hold on Me” is an upbeat number that might find a home on radio once the better cuts have run their course.

http://www.chadkichula.com

Side F/X can never be called predictable. On their new album, Contradictions, the band effortlessly shifts gears, from Motels-styled early ’80s New Wave (“Scattered”) to blues rock (“Her Escape”) to country (“Life’s Mystery”). Through it all lead singer Kim Cameron, who also wrote these songs, seduces us with her soulful tones. Contradictions doesn’t sound like an independent release at all. It’s a polished, professionally executed affair with top-flight guitar work, especially the searing riffs on “Won’t Break Down,” and hypnotically throbbing bass lines, as on the funky “My Hero.”

Kit Burns: Side F/X’s eclectic genre-shifting is not something I usually hear from rock groups coming out of Washington, D.C. How has the reception been in D.C. thus far?

Kim Cameron: D.C. is a confluence of different nationalities, cultures, and therefore, music. My co-writer and I have taken advantage of those diversifications and styles into our approach. So far, we have been lucky.  Everyone has taken a liking to the variety – especially women.  That was the general approach of the album, to make sure the listener did not get bored.  Our general philosophy was [that] people like a lot of different sounds, genres – so why not produce something with a little magic in each song?

Burns: There are too few women on rock radio these days. What challenges do you feel you face as a woman leading a rock group?

Cameron: The biggest challenge I have come across is appearance.  When you tell people you are a part of a rock band, they expect to hear a raspy/screeching voice on the mic. People are always trying to box women into a hardcore look or sound in the rock world – but to me, you can be feminine and sound feminine without losing the rock spirit. I believe it is important get the industry to take notice of music that has something to say, not necessarily who, or which, gender says it. It is in this spirit that we created Contradictions.

Burns: Is there a hidden meaning behind the album title Contradictions?

Cameron: Absolutely!  Actually, the entire album has many hidden meanings. Contradictions represents a clash between sounds and lyrical content. “Never Forget” is a song about a cancer victim that I know personally and was impacted by, but the vibe in the song is actually quite cheerful. To me, we all face challenges each day, but it’s up to us to see the positive to keep our spirit alive, hence the ‘contradiction.’ If you look at the album cover, you will notice vines wrapping around myself and my lead guitar player.  As you unfold the cover, you will see two birds.  While the birds start off together, as you unfold the cover, the birds fly away, and one of the birds carries away with it a broken heart. Similar to the album artwork, Contradictions also represents my personal growth – growth as a person, growth as a songwriter, growth as a woman, growth as a singer. The true contradiction, is, what you see is not always what you get. Inside all of us are some hidden talents that are often overlooked.

Burns: You co-wrote the lyrics on Contradictions. How do you find the process of a songwriting collaboration? Is it easier, or harder, than penning the words on your own.

Cameron: Having a journalism degree, I am not only accustomed to being edited, but find the process invaluable. Anytime you can place two people, and sometimes three on a project, you will always gain a better experience and song in the process.  Since these songs are all about personal life experiences, I would be lying if I said the editing process was not challenging because it can feel like someone is taking apart your soul, but in the end, if you can explain your story in a way that makes sense to others, that is really the objective.

Burns: How long have Side F/X been around? What is the story behind the group?

Cameron: Side F/X started out as a basement concept with two of my very close friends, who happen to be brothers. One ended up as a co-writer on over half of the songs. We would get together; play music for their extremely large family gatherings for a couple of years until last year, when we decided to make ourselves ‘official.’ Part of the decision was based on the creation of the original works (Contradictions), which began on April 2007. It took us several months, but I think we are right where we should be, a very diverse mix of musicians from two Iranian transplants to a D.C. native who has fought hard to rise above a very poor and drug-infested neighborhood to an information technology professional. What I have found is the more eclectic the backgrounds, the more inspirational the sound. All musicians bring their background to the sound; they cannot help it. 

http://www.sidefxband.net

The Tunes and Tones/Apple

The Tunes and Tones have a sense of humor. They must. On the cover of Apple, the band is lying on the ground, staring intently at the record’s namesake. This is the first image a potential fan is greeted with, and perhaps in a case of irony, it suffers from a lack of tone depth.  Graphic design notwithstanding, the Tunes and Tones do express a gamut of color in the music. It’s just unfortunate that so many people are content basing their opinion on packaging.

Dressing their music with college-rock stylings a la the Strokes, the Tunes and Tones still manage to incorporate classic-rock influences.  The songs come in many different flavors, often creating an eclectic but confident sound. “Crazy Lady Yates,” for example, is delivered in a free-flowing manner reminiscent of Bob Dylan, whereas “Grease” is more redolent of the contemporary act Cake. Who said you can’t have your Cake and eat it, too? Lyrically, the band is unrestrained. Opening to applause, “Love Labels” tells a story of musicians unhindered by critics. “They said we were all folky/and that’s all we’d bring/I guess they’ll never grab our sound.” Regrettably, this is indicative of what the music industry has become. Unsurprisingly, though, the Tunes and Tones have the last say on the closing track, “Clubs are not as packed as back in the day/And all the record labels eat shit/I guess the music has lost its way.”

http://www.myspace.com/thetunesandtones

Paul Marturano/Bucks County

Paul Marturano will perhaps be always known for his appearance on American Idol, singing his “Stalker” tune to Paula Abdul. But Marturano is surprisingly a fine pianist and a serious singer/songwriter, too. His 2007 release, Bucks County, is an emotionally involving collection of songs for the dumped. Drawing similarities with Billy Joel, Elton John, and Ben Folds, Marturano nevertheless crafts these tunes with his own seemingly heartbroken vision. The spiteful “Strings Attached” finds Marturano at the peak of his angst, yelling “You can take your love and shove it” with the wounded venom of somebody who isn’t putting up with any more shit. “Hello Again” details the ups and downs of an off-again, on-again relationship. “All You Have to Be” finds Marturano simply looking for the right girl and most likely not finding her.

Those expecting demented chuckles won’t find much of that here. Marturano is an excellent musician, though, and his piano playing can be quite cinematic, especially on “Strings Attached.” On “Me and Joe” and “The Man,” Marturano switches to Americana, complete with jangling guitars on the former. There’s more feeling on this record than anything you’ll hear on American Idol.

http://www.paulmarturano.com

Garfan/Family Affair

Nebraska-based modern rockers Garfan piece together parts of Alternative Nation past and present and manage to weave their obvious influences into something quite listenable. Vocalist Katie Preston is a bit of a chameleon, shifting singing styles depending on the varying directions of the band. Against a wall of guitar fuzz a la Smashing Pumpkins, Preston channels the Pretenders’ Chrissie Hynde on “I’ve Been Waiting,” delivering despondent lines like, “I’ve been waiting so long/For someone like you,” with palpable yearning. On “My Life,” Preston sounds eeriely similar to the late Patty Donahue of the Waitresses (“I Know What Boys Like”), offering New Wave swagger amidst the crunchy guitars. “Stand Up,” on the other hand, finds Preston in a feral mode not to far off from Blondie’s Deborah Harry (program “One Way or Another” after it).

Yes, Garfan are on the retro side but the kids probably won’t notice and certainly the grown-ups have an appetite for nostalgia that never seems to be satisfied. Certainly Garfan are an enjoyable alternative to the parade of pale-skinned emo wussies once cutting-edge radio stations are continuing to worship. The psychedelic riffs of “Deborah” and the slash-and-burn Pixies charge of “Of Course I Do” rock harder than much of what is selling at Hot Topic today.

http://www.garfan.com

In the unpredictable world of rock & roll, there are has-beens and wanna-be’s, but what about the should-have-beens? The Brymers had the punky spunk and snappy pop hooks of the best British Invasion groups of the ’60s; however, mainstream success eluded them. Over the past couple of decades, their lost Summer of Love nuggets “Sacrifice” and “I Want to Tell You” became sought-after cult items. Since young acts such as the Strokes and the Hives made garage rock a hip alternative to much of today’s processed cheese, the Brymers are finally starting to get recognition a la their Pacific Northwest counterparts the Sonics. They even decided to reunite, and original drummer Dick Lee discusses how it all transpired.

Kit Burns: The Brymers could’ve been as big as the Kinks in the ’60s but somehow didn’t quite reach that highest ladder. What happened? Did the group receive interest from the major labels back then?

Dick Lee:  The Brymers band was signed by Diplomacy Records and a Los Angeles entertainment agency called “Coast Artists.”  I will never forget walking into the CEO of Coast Artists and hearing them talking about packaging, promoting, and selling the Brymers.  At one point during the conversation, the CEO excused himself and took a telephone call from Ed Sullivan.  Needless to say, as young 18-year-olds we were amazed.  The Brymers’ first recordings were in 1963 in a small studio in Fresno, California.  The group rented a studio and along with five cases of beer, recorded two surf songs.  We had no idea what we were doing, but had a great time.  The songs were “Irritation” and “More of More.”  In 1965, the Brymers began recording in Hollywood, California at Harmony Studios.  The group recorded “Only by Your Own,” “I Should Be Glad,” “Hello Little Girl,” and “Every Moment of the Day.”  In early 1966, we re-entered the studio and recorded a song written by our keyboard player Kenny Sinner (“I Want To Tell You”). The track featured four-piece harmonies and sounded like the Byrds or Buffalo Springfield.  The A&R man in the studio thought we might have captured a hit.  The problem was we need a B-side so the group went to lunch, and over a few beers and hamburgers, Kenny Sinner wrote out a song on a napkin called “Sacrifice.”  All of us laughed because the lyrics did not make sense, but it was uptempo and featured fuzz and harmonica.  During the same session, the group recorded “Under My Thumb” for Diplomacy Records’ 16-year-old daughter to sing.  Her name was April Silva.  About three weeks later, we learned that Mercury Records wanted to purchased “I Want To Tell You,” but asked that we write new lyrics to reflect the political climate against the Vietnam War.  Kenny Sinner wrote new lyrics and re-named the song “Make Love Not War.”  We then recorded it on the Mercury label.  The group could never get a straight answer about the progress of the releases from Diplomacy Records.  As a working, touring rock group we continued to play around the country. 

Fourteen months ago, I was surfing the web and accidentally found a garage punk site called GaragePunk.Com.  I entered a forum and asked if anyone had ever heard of a 1960s California group called the Brymers.  I immediately began getting e-mails from all over the U.S., Europe, and Australia stating that they had heard of the group and the song “Sacrifice.”  Until that night I had no idea that anyone had ever heard of the Brymers or “Sacrifice.”  I also began receiving calls from different record companies asking if I had any other Brymers recordings.  As a pack rat, I had kept the masters, old 1960s dance posters, and about 300 photos in the attic.  I also found a seven spiral notebooks which were journal entries I kept of all our touring and funny stories that occurred over a five year period.  Needless to say, much of it is X-rated and rather embarrassing.  But, did we ever have a great time!

Burns: How did the Brymers form?

Lee:  The Brymers was formed in 1962 and originally called the Challengers.  We had three guitar players and practiced excessively in my parents’ garage in Lemoore, California.  The group started out as a surf band (that was the music of the day) and gradually transitioned into a good vocal rock band.  After three months the group changed its name again.  The band’s new name was the De-Fenders (from the Fender amps).  The group began playing locally for high schools, teen dances, etc.  One of our close friends became a local DJ for station KCOK and a dance promoter.  His name was Mel Simas and his promotion business was called Melco Interprises. He asked if he could be our manager; in exchange, he would bring in top rock acts from around the country, and we would back them up in concerts and in recording sessions.  He would also feature the de-Fenders in large venues with well-known rock groups.  This started our experience of playing with some of the best-known rock acts of the day.  In 1965, Simas became associated with Bill Silva (president of Diplomacy Records).  This started our recording career, but little did we know that Diplomacy did not have the distribution and contacts to really push our recordings.  A few months later, Diplomacy and Coast Artists had the De-Fenders come to Hollywood at an upscale saloon for a publicity op.  Little did we know that we would be getting all of our long hair cut off in front of TV cameras and teen magazine photographers.  The record company announced that the group’s new name was the Brymers (sounds like Brimmers).  Diplomacy’s rationale was that the bald heads, the Brymers name would be associated with the actor Yul Brynner.  Needless to say that this did not occur.  The Brymers taped a segment for a TV show called Shindig! in 1966, but the show was cancelled prior to the Brymers appearance.  The group continued touring around the country as a working band.

Burns: That garage-rock sound that the Brymers helped to pioneer is now the lifeblood of so many new young acts. Did you ever think it would come back around?

Lee:  As mentioned before, prior to 14 months ago I never new that anyone had ever heard of the Brymers or the B-side “Sacrifice.”  I am still amazed that individuals are interested in the ’60s sound with the loud fuzz, wailing harmonica, and Hammond B3.  A funny story occurred around the recording of “Sacrifice” in 1966.  We were in Harmony Studios, Los Angeles, and trying to figure out how to come up with an into to this crazy fuzz-driven song that was written in 15 minutes on a napkin. Sinner said, “Hey, I’ve got to go to a pawn shop – will be back in the studio in one hour.”  He ran out of the studio, and we had no idea of where he was going.  When he returned, he had this 17″ speaker.  He then proceeded to take his small amp apart and installed this huge 17″ speaker (3/4 of it was hanging out of the back).  Sinner then turned his amp volume and 52 telecaster volume up as high as it would go.  He asked the engineer to roll the tape, and Sinner picked his amp up about three feet, then dropped it on the floor; the result was the intro to “Sacrifice.”  As we were laying down the track, sparks began coming out of the amp and more distortion on the fuzz  began to occur.  We all thought it sounded very cool, then the amp caught on fire.  The engineer ran out of the control booth and began yelling, “You fucking idiots are going to burn down the studio.”  Sinner replied, “Now, that’s the sound I was looking for on ‘Sacrifice.’”

Burns: What are some of your favorite rock experiences of being in San Francisco back in the day?

Lee: The Brymers played in San Francisco a lot during 1965, 1966, and 1967 (the Summer of Love).  We had some great times and played on some great venues and met many musician friends of the day.  The Blues Project, Jefferson Airplane, and Creedence Clearwater Revival were only a few.  It is difficult to describe the time to individuals who were not there.  The war protesting against Vietnam was at its height, free food was being distributed by a lot of people in the city, and “Make Love Not War” was the anthem of the time.  Drugs were prevalent and provided to us; everyone was high, we were playing great concerts with some cool musicians, and we were screwing our asses off.  Needless to say, we embraced the anthem “Make Love Not War.”  One funny experience in 1967 occurred after a concert with multiple groups on the venue.  We all returned to our hotel room with many groupies and stripped naked and began a screwing marathon.  About 5 a.m. Bobby Hollister (lead guitar and vocals) for the Brymers entered the room and introduced us all to this beautiful blonde he had met after the concert.  He then went to the adjoining hotel room and everything was quiet.  Soon, we heard “Oh shit, oh shit, fuck me” and a scream.  Hollister ran from the room into our room totally nude and was yelling, “She’s a guy, she’s a  guy and has a dick.”  Little did he know that he had hooked up with a female impersonator from a club in North Beach.  As good friends would do, we never let him forget that experience. The experience of being in a rock band during the 1960s is difficult to articulate.  It was one of the greatest memories of my life.  I think one of the coolest things revolves around local bands who started playing music at the same time and then nabbed a few hits.  For example, a group who frequently opened for us was called the Sullies; its drummer later became the lead singer for Journey.  The lead singer for the Implicits later joined a San Jose group called The Doobie Brothers, and the list goes on.  The Brymers officially disbanded in late 1968.  I then joined a group from a California surfing community called Pismo Beach.  Its leader, Merrell Fankhauser, wrote “Wipe Out” in 1962.  With Fankhauser, we recorded an album called Fapardokly.  But this is another story for another time.

http://www.thebrymers.com