A Lot O’ BLOTTO (1981)

© Robert Barry Francos / FFanzeen, 1981/2023
Images from the Internet unless indicated

My pal Dennis Concepcion, who turned me onto Blotto, came with me when I went to interview the group at a club on Long Island. Backstage was a weird mix of calm stillness and pandemonium. Their comments on past members is a bit harsh, in my opinion, but the band played on, and they were pretty much self-deprecating anyway, so I took that as the band’s “personality.” After the interview was over, but before they went onstage to play, two members whipped out a chess board and were deeply into it. On the other hand, being a smart ass, I mentioned to Cheese Blotto (d. 1999) that perhaps he should shave his head as he was noticeably balding. Not only did he do it right then and there with one of those tiny travel razors, Dennis documented it with photographic evidence. The pictures are included in the original article, and as far as I know, Cheese remains curds-less.

This interview was published in FFanzeen, No. 8, dated 1981. – RBF, 2023

Rear: Bowtie, Lee Harvey, Sarge
Front: Broadway, Cheese

A Lot O’ Blotto

Rock’n’roll. Blitz. New Romanticism. Punk. Psychedelic Revival. New Wave. Cabaret’n’roll?!

 

There appears to be a new trend in rock’n’roll which refused to take itself seriously a-toll. Out on the West Coast, there is a group called the Toons, who sing of “Roast Chicken Faces”; in New York City, there’s Junk Rock, who explain the virtues of being a “Sanitation Man.”; and from Albany, NY, there is the more popular leader of this movement, named Blotto.

 

Blotto came into prominence two years ago with the hit, “I Wanna Be a Lifeguard” [which still airs on the radio and weather reports every summer to this day – RBF, 2023], which was played ad nauseam in, in seemed, every club (though the outer boroughs still cheer when it comes up). That cut was off a four-song 12” EP which sold quite well for an independent label, titled Hello! My Name is Blotto, What’s Yours? At that time, the lineup was Broadway Blotto (Bill Polchinski; vocals/guitar), Bowtie Blotto (Paul Jossman; vocals/guitar), Blanche Blotto (Helena Binder; keyboards/vocals), Sergeant Blotto (Greg Haymes, d. 2019; vocals/percussion), Cheese Blotto (Keith Stephenson; bass), and Lee Harvey Blotto (Paul Rapp; drums).

 

The next year (that is, the last from now), a new EP hit the stands, sans Blanche, with Chevrolet Blotto taking over the keyboards, titled Across and Down. Although none of the songs reached the cult status of “Lifeguard,” the four songs on it were consistently good in their own, bizarre ways.

 

Now the present, and the release of a new record, this time a 7” 45.

 

There have been quite a few people who have been onto me because I think these guys are okay. Well, hell, they like what they’re doing: acting a bit irreverent and making damn asses of themselves. Sure, it’s not mainstream rock’n’roll-whatever, but the point is that they are not trying to claim they are. Nothing pretentious here, just a lot of fun.

 

What amazed me was the fact that they use their stage names all the time, even among themselves. Very weird.

 

As a rule, they are nice guys, but a bitch to interview. It was nearly impossible to get a straight answer from them. In fact, what follows, is all that was coherent of a ninety-minute interview.

 

Broadway Blotto: Our new single will be out soon. “When the Second Feature Starts” is on the A-side, and on the B-side is a song called “The B-side.”

 

FFanzeen: How original!
Broadway: Somebody had to do it!
Sergeant Blotto (Sarge): We figured it was better than running the same song backwards. Like Napoleon XIV [“They’re Coming to Take Me Away Ha-Ha” – Ed, 1981].

 

FFanzeen: Why a single instead of the usual EP?
Broadway: Why not?! It’s cheaper.
Sarge: Now we can play them in jukeboxes at diners, by the eclairs on the counters. Also, with a song like “B-Side,” you can’t put that on the back of an EP.
Broadway: And also, after we put out our last EP, we said, “We’re not putting out any more EPs. It’s either albums or a single.”

 

FFanzeen: Why not an album?
Lee Harvey Blotto: We wanted to do a single.
Broadway: You can’t put an album on a jukebox either.

 

FFanzeen: They used to have a shorter album on the jukebox. They were called EPs. [All laugh]
Lee Harvey: One’s like Frankie Valli.
Broadway: I like Frankie Valli. He’s my favorite.
Sarge: He was okay.
Lee Harvey: Was? Isn’t he still alive?

 

FFanzeen: That’s debatable. [That was meant career-wise; as of this writing, FV is still alive – RBF, 2023].
Sarge: I don’t know – check the list behind you. [Written on the wall of the club where the interview is taking place is a list of dead rock’n’rollers – Ed., 1981]
Broadway: You mean, “All the people who died, died?”
Sarge: Yeah. “All my friends, they died, died.”
Lee Harvey: Or the sequel, “People who lived.”
Broadway: We were going to put out a song, “People who Dine, Dine.”
Lee Harvey: Did you hear about that band playing, the Dead Lennon?

 

FFanzeen: Yeah, from Boston.
Lee Harvey: Well, they used to be on Lawrence Welk, didn’t they?
Broadway: Yes, until they died. Arrrggghhh.
Sarge: Then they decomposed.

 

FFanzeen: Did you ever notice that the music for the chorus of “People Who Died” is identical with “Red Hot”?
Broadway: Yeah [sings “Red Hot”:]. “My gal has died, died” [laughs]. Have you seen the video tape from “I Wanna Be a Lifeguard”? It was filmed at various shoe stores and lakes in Upstate New York.

 

FFanzeen: The song came out two years ago. Isn’t it a bit late now?
Broadway: Hey, we’re timely guys.
Lee Harvey: It’s kind of a statement because, like, Albany is two years behind everything and we were just noting the other day that Legs Diamond, the gangster, was shot in Albany two or three years after all the gangland slayings in Chicago and New York had taken place. People had already forgotten it and went on to new things, like baseball and other pastimes. So, that’s why our video tape is two years late. Plus, the fact that some guys came up and said, “Hey, we want to do a video tape of you guys and it won’t cost you anything,” and we said, “Well, now you’re talking.”
Sarge: You see, we don’t like to spend our money on video tapes and things like that. Every once in a while, we like to spend it on foolish little things – like food.
Broadway: Luxury items like that. So, is it true that all the street signs in New York (City) are color coordinated? My cousin told me that. In Queens, its white on blue, the Bronx, is blue on yellow, Manhattan’s black on yellow, Staten Island is black and blue –

 

[At this point, the discussion went on a long tangent on how the band found out about Lennon being shot while on their way to tape an “Uncle Floyd Show” and had to act zany. From there, it went to the imagined shooting of Queen Elizabeth and the shooting of the Pope, and two tourists from Buffalo, NY, where we pick it up.]

 

Broadway: It was on the tour plan: “Would you like the $1000 tour to Rome and you get to see all the monuments, etc., or would you like the $500 tour where you just see Rome from the bus, or would you like the $25 tour, where you get to see everything, but you have to get shot.”
Lee Harvey: “Well, let’s see – if I save up enough money in Buffalo doing piecework separating weenies from chickens –“

 

FFanzeen: Tours in the future?
Sarge: On August 24, we’re play the Garden –
Broadway: That’s planting the garden!

FFanzeen: Whatever happened to Blanche Blotto?
Broadway: What’s become of who?
Sarge: That’s old news. Why don’t you ask us what’s become of Chevy (Blotto)?

FFanzeen: Okay, what’s become of Chevy?
Sarge: Well, it’s all pretty strange. Two weeks ago, he dropped out to join the sink-hole worship cult down in Florida, and he’s living in a tent just outside that sink-hole.
Broadway: He’s a Chevrolet that wants to be at one with the Porches. Actually, his warranty ran out. We heard from [Ralph] Nader’s people and we had to recall him from the group.

FFanzeen: Who is replacing him?
Broadway: No one could replace Chevrolet Blotto.
Sarge: Now, we’re just the Blotto Quartet.
Broadway: Actually, Sarge is filling in on keyboard stuff, Lee Harvey is picking up the slack on the vocals, and business as usual.

FFanzeen: Why “Blotto”?
Broadway: Why notto? Well, if you play crossword puzzles – which I don’t – you find the words include “spiflicated” [not in my edition of Websters – Ed., 1981], six letters, beginning with “B,” fifth letter “T,” ending with “O” – with a “LOT” in the middle!

 

 

 

THE STEINETTES (1980)

Text © Robert Barry Francos / FFanzeen, 1980/2023
Images from the Internet unless indicated

The Steinettes were a brief moment in time, yet their short span made them a cult classic to fans of the ‘60s girl group sounds that they emulated, and for the comic timing in the two singular-word-titled Robert Altman films in which they appeared, HealtH and more famously Popeye, where they appeared as Olive Oyl’s four girlfriends. In both, they were sort of the Greek Chorus with a song in their hearts.

The group as a collective is gone now, but every once in a rare moment, they regather at parties and perform their old routines. Luckily, often, there is someone there with a camera.

This interview appeared in FFanzeen, issue No. 6, dated Year-end 1980.

(photo by Dennis Concepcion)

The Steinettes (1980)

Alphabetically, it’s as follows:

Natalie Blossom, far right
(photo by Dennis Concepcion)

Natalie Blossom. Blonde and sort of modish-looking with ‘sixties hairdo and make-up. The ham of the group, she is always making faces and clowning for both the camera and the audience. Hailing from Cleveland, Ohio, she now resides in Brooklyn, just a stones-throw away from the Midwood Theatre. Some of her solos are the Angel’s “My Boyfriend’s Back” and Betty Everett’s “The Shoop-Shoop Song (It’s in His Kiss).”

Julie Janney (photo by Dennis Concepcion)

Julie Janney. A blonde who tends to wear a red T-shirt from her home state of Indiana. Of the foursome, her voice is the strongest, so she gets some of the more difficult songs to sing, like “Be By Baby,” and “Walking In The Rain,” both by the Ronettes. Usually, she sways her hips when she sings.

Julie, Patti Katz, Natalie Schaffer 
(photo by Dennis Concepcion)

Patty Katz. The spokesperson of the group and the only native New Yorker (Great Neck, Long Island). This brunette is the bass vocalist (very rare in all-female groups) and her repertoire includes one of the unit’s best renditions, the Shirelles’ “Foolish Little Girl” (with Natalie), and “Dedicated to the One I Love.” Patty is the one who talks the cops out of kicking the group off the street corners when the crowd exceeds the sidewalk and spills onto the roadway (as they usually do, by the second song).

Dianne Shaffer. The “Ringo” of the group, was the last member to join. This brunette is also the shortest. She wears pigtails and is the group’s verbal comedienne (as opposed to Natalie’s physical comedy). A couple of her songs are Shelley Fabares’ “Johnny Angel” (a la Swan Lake), and the Chantel’s “Maybe,” in which she holds the record for saying the most “maybes” in the shortest time span. Naw, I’m just making that up, but I still wouldn’t be surprised.

Singing "Sugar Fit" from Health
(photo by Dennis Concepcion)

Put ‘em all together and no, they don’t spell mother, but they do spell out Steinettes. Now, there are two questions that may be plaguing your mind at the moment:

First, and quite simply, what are the Steinettes? Well, so far we’ve established that they are a singing quartet of girls…er…women. So, what’s so unusual about that? Well, they are New York street performers who make their living by putting a trick-o-treat pumpkin out front and singing a cappella. This summer, it was on West Broadway, twixt Houston and Prince, in SoHo. Next summer, who knows? The police have been giving them a bit of a hassle about their listeners blocking traffic. They also perform once in a while in Sheridan Square Park, on Christopher Street.

Singing "Dominique" by the Singing Nun
(photo by Dennis Concepcion)

As you look over their names, you will notice that there is no one in the group named Stein. The second question, therefore, is how did they get the name Steinettes? The first version of the group, (sans Dianne), was formed by comedian Phil Stein for a review that he was putting on. The quartet was used as filler (what a waste of talent!) during his costume changes. When the show ended, so did the Steinettes. They re-formed for another review, this time with Dianne. When they rehearsed under the Washington Square Arch and a crowd started forming, they thought, “Hmmm.” And a quartet was born – sort of a “Hey kids, let’s put on a show” history. (For more specific details on their early career, check out an article written in the New York Daily News, October 17, 1979.) But think that’s a dull story. Here’s the one they prefer:

Patty Katz: I was going uptown on an express train, and Julie and Dianne were sitting next to each other and singing. It was real empty. I sat down next to them and for some reason I came in with the third harmony. And (Natalie) just got in. She was going to Brooklyn. And she came in and did fourth harmony. And we said, “Hey, cool!”
Dianne Schaffer: “We got a group!”
Natalie Blossom: And they were really getting off singing to each other. I thought they all knew each other. They were laughing at themselves, and I was laughing with them, so I just came in with the fourth harmony.
Patty: We were all singing different songs.
Natalie: That’s why it was so funny.

Any way you look at it, the first official gig as the Steinettes (as opposed to four actresses singing together) arrived around Labor Day, 1978.

(photo by Dennis Concepcion)

Hanging out with Dennis Concepcion in the spring of 1979, we were eating at the late and lamented Burger Towne at Sheridan Square on 7th Avenue South and Christopher Street, across the narrow road from the triangular park (you see it coming, don't you?). As we ate our burgers, through the window we saw this large crowd gathering. Having finished, we went outside to see what was going on.

We entered the park, and saw the four. All were wearing silver jackets with their “Steinettes” logo on the back, sort of like a gang would. Three of the four were wearing sweat-sox in the bobby-sox style, with sneakers. Natalie was wearing black pumps and had on a black and white striped T-shirt that just came short of her waist; Julie, her red Indiana T-shirt; Patty’s was white with a Minnie Mouse design; and Dianne’s was blue with some writing that I can never quite remember. These are still, to this day, their work clothes. Two blondes, two brunettes.

It was love at first sight.

Since that time, between Dennis and myself, we have renamed the spot “Steinette Park,” and thus it shall ever more be. But that was the last we were to see them for a long time.

During the early Spring of this year, FFanzeen managing editor Stacy Mantel, art editor Alan Abramowitz, and I were walking around SoHo (see it coming again, huh?) to the SoHo Music Gallery, a really good record store on Wooster, and we saw a large crowd. I heard the voices long before I saw who it was, but there was no question in my mind who they were. “My God, it’s the Steinettes!” I shouted. The three of us went over and there were two more Steinettes converts – proselytizing was unnecessary. We sat through both of their one-hour sets (with a five to fifteen minute “intermission” to catch their breath and new audience.

A few months after that, an actor with whom I worked named Richard “When’s FFanzeen comin’ out” Hill asked, “Hey, did you ever hear of a group called the Steinettes?” He seemed surprised that I did. Well, as it turns out, Patty is his friend, and before the week was out, my friend Dennis and I had interviewed them. Now we rarely miss a performance.

Of course, there is an argument against them – namely that they are actresses and not really rock’n’roll singers; that they do not deserve as much attention from the music world as they are getting. Bull. They are, in fact, four girls who grew up listening to the Chantels, and Ronettes, and Shangri-Las, and loved them as kids (didn’t we all?), and in their way, are singing for both fun and (hopefully) profit. But that element of fun is very important to the way they perceive their music. No two sets are identical, distinguished by all the improv joking around that happens between them and their audience – even among themselves. They are always talking to the audience, sometimes including them in the act. But more than anything else, they have fun. And more than anything else, that is what rock’n’roll is all about, isn’t it?

Scene from HealtH

But still, there is the acting part of the group that cannot be ignored. And their career seems to be taking off. Robert Altman was turned on to them, and he offered them the role of the pseudo-Greek Chorus in his film, HealtH (1980). HealtH, which took what seemed like forever to come out, has been released in LA, where it was badly shot down by critics (nothing bad said about the Steinettes). So, it was canned before it ever reached New York. However, they are also in Altman’s Popeye (1980), which appears as if it will be a hit. Maybe if it does really well, they will re-release HealtH.

As far as publicity for the film goes, the Steinettes seemed to have been almost ignored. When Life Magazine had a large feature on Popeye, they were never even mentioned in the cast. Ditto with many film magazines. Luckily, they haven’t been totally ignored. Papers such as The Daily News and The New York Post have run articles on them. And now they are going to be on”20/20”, and have a great shot at a guest appearance on the new season of “Saturday Night Live” (it didn’t happen – RBF., 2023).

I hope they go far, because they represent a genre of song-style that has not been around lately, but is sorely missed.

Dennis Concepcion and the Steinettes
(ffoto by Robert Barry Francos)

The following short documentary gives a nice overview of their music, after an intro by Patti. Dennis, mentioned above, took some of the still photos of them performing live, and can be seen wearing a Schaffer Music Festival tee-shirt in front of the crowd at 11:36.

 

Meeting Philippe Petite, 1976

Text © Robert Barry Francos
Images from Internet

When Man on Wire won the Academy Awards for Best Documentary on February 22, 2009, I immediately had to smile, having interacted with the film’s subject Philippe Petite. It was during the summer of 1976, known then simply as “The Bicentennial.”

I watched the Twin Towers go up. Being a new teen, its rise seemed to go on and on. One building went faster than the other, but with the impatience of youth, time seemed to be passing very slowly as it kept going up and up and up. Finally, the huge antenna was placed.

In 1974, Petite became infamous when he and others illegally set up cables, and he walked across the quarter mile high gap between the buildings a number of times.

Even in the early days before 24/7 360 surveillance in the name of freedom, it seems hard to believe that this group could physically set it all up without the knowledge of, if not the city government, than at least the building management (e.g., he had fake ID), who probably saw it as positive PR when there had been so much negative press about what many considered an eyesore to the skyline. Why else would they leave Petite’s autograph on the building’s corner, clearly visible from the roof viewing walkway, right until the attacks 28 years later?

In 1976, I found myself unemployed from the Brooklyn movie theater I had started working the same year as Petite’s Tower walk. My pal Dennis Concepcion, whom I had recently met at Queens College (which I had recently started attending) said he would put in a good word at his place of employment, part of the Baskin-Robbins franchise. This particular one was on Seventh Avenue South, between Bleecker Street and Christopher Street, nearly directly across from Sheridan Square.

It truly was a fun place to work, especially in that hot summer. Our hands would freeze while bodies stayed hot standing next to the refrigerator motors. Unlike most franchises that adhere to strict rules about dress, size of portions, and inventory, this particular franchise was run very loose. If people were nasty to us, we would give them less of a scoop that those we liked, especially it if was Rocky Road, which was particularly brutal to scoop.

For example, there was this guy who came in regularly who looked very Madison Avenue with his suit, glasses, and attaché case. A really friendly person, he mentioned that the next day was his 10th anniversary. I told him if they both came in the next day, I would gladly give them a gratis anniversary cone. He came in the next days with another man who was dressed the exact same way: even their hairstyles and ties matched. He introduced the man as his 10-year partner. “Oh!” I said, and gave them both their promised cones. As I smiled and handed it over, he said, “You seem surprised. Does this bother you?” I truthfully answered, yes I was surprised (considering how “straight” he looked), but no I was not in the least bothered. We chatted a while, and he continued to come back every day (and it was always good to see him).

I’m not quite sure why I was surprised, because we were diagonally across the square from the Stonewall, and directly across from another gay bar, where patrons who struck out there tried to hit on us. While I always took it as a complement, truthfully, I was never interested. I only met one person who got angry at my turning him down, who went into a rant about “Why would a straight person be working here!” After giving him a slightly smaller portion, I asked him to leave and not come back ever again.

One of the outcomes of working there was that my subway stop was directly under the Waverly Theater, and I had the opportunity to see The Rocky Horror Picture Show very early in its Midnight run, when it was just me and a few gay couples, most of them making out. Also, famous people would sometimes come into the parlor, and I served the likes of Barbara Walters, Mark Leonard (who played Spock’s father), and Paul Benedict (the British neighbor of The Jeffersons). One time when I wasn’t there, Divine came by and Dennis gave me his autograph (which I still have).

One night I was working and saw a flash of fire in front of the store through the window. It was a hot night, but considering we served cold ice cream, the store was not really crowded. Between the bits of bright flame that shot out every minute or so, I could see there was a swarm growing. Making sure we were covered, I went outside to check out what was going on. At the center of the growing crowd was a man dressed totally in black and a top hat who was juggling, breathing fire, and doing magic tricks for the group. He did it mime style, though not in whiteface. After watching for a while, I realized it was Philippe Petite, and it also seemed I was the only one who recognized him. His tightrope walking stunt was famous, and even his name was somewhat known, but people either did not recognize his visage, or just never put the two together.

Over the next few nights he appeared a few times, as it seemed he picked the corner in front of the store as “his spot.” Honestly, I didn’t see any problem with it because he drew people into the store when he finished, especially with causing more heat with the flames. There were two teen girls who also worked there, whose father owned the liquor store next door (it is still there). They thought highly of themselves and could have stepped out of one of those teens-with-attitude films. I refused to take crap from them (for example, I would not let them take out the live Ramones tape I had made at CBGB the night before that I was playing on the store tapedeck – this was before their first record – and replace with the Bay City Rollers), so when these nasty bimbettes wanted to chase him away, I would not let them. Heck, it was Philippe Petite, fer cryin’ out loud.

On one particularly hot night (the whole summer was a steambath), I went to watch him, and could see the sweat pouring down from under his top hat. Breathing fire surely must have been hard on him. So, I went into the store, filled a cup with some fruit punch (I figured it would be easier on this throat than something carbonated), and went back outside. Even in the dark, I could see that he was hotter-than-hot. Without thinking, I put my hand out with the drink, right through the crowd. Instantly, I realized that I would be interrupting his show, and it could be considered rude, so I flushed. Brilliantly, he managed to make my giving him this drink into part of the act, and he drank it down. Then I slunk back into the store.

The next day, he showed up at the counter. In his very thick French accent, he thanked me for the drink, and said in all the years that he had been doing magic and breathing fire, I was the first person ever to offer him a drink. I told him that while I couldn’t usually get out to see him, especially if there were customers, he was always welcome to come in after and I’d give him a free drink. He did so occasionally throughout the summer. He was a cultural (and counter-cultural) hero, after all!

The job only lasted into the fall. The owner of the store lost it to his ex-wife in a divorce deal. She fired everyone and started it from scratch – and strict to the letter. It was the wrong idea for that neighborhood at that time period, so it closed in less than a year. Now it’s a restaurant. Luckily, I went back to working in a different theater in Brooklyn. As for Dennis, we are still friends, but I never saw Petite in person again.