Connecting with HUMAN SWITCHBOARD

Text by Jim Downs, introduction by Robert Barry Francos
© 1986, FFanzeen; introductory comments © RBF, 2011
Performance still images © RBF; other images from the Internet

The following article on the underrated indie band Human Switchboard was originally published in FFanzeen magazine, issue #14, in 1986. It was written by Jim Downs.

The first time I met Human Switchboard keyboardist and co-singer Myrna Macarian it was very briefly during my initial visit to Buffalo in 1978. She was hanging out with Bernie Kugel. Switchboard had just played in there (the band had formed in Syracuse the year before), and of course Bernie, being the indie record maven and lead singer of hometown heroes The Good, connected with her.

This was followed by seeing the band actually perform in 1984 at CBGBs, and then again when they opened for Alex Chilton (RIP) on March 1, 1985. I grabbed Jim Downs, who had been in (another) band called Gangreen down in Boone, NC, and we headed over to Irving Plaza to interview the band. While Jim did the interview upstairs in the dressing room, I snapped the photos (and did a bit of vocal participation, as you’ll see; ironically, Jim would turn out to be a big-time photographer). On the way out of the interview to go catch the show downstairs, we ran into Bernie Worrell, who was joining the Switchboard onstage as a guest keyboardist. He was wearing a kilt, so I asked him if I could take some pix, and he agreed, striking a few funny poses.

The show was great, of course.

After the band broke up and some he had some weirdness with the law, Bob Pfeifer now has a new novel about to be published later this month, University of Straners, which I will be reviewing here in the blog. – RBF, 2011

Remember those grade-B horror movies from when you were a kid? A better term would be fright movie instead of horror. You know, the ones where there’s this big build up and then the scare, and nothing really happens? Kinda like a sneeze that has you going, ah…ah… ah…, then… nothing? This interview is with a band whose career has been just like that. Not in the artistic and musical sense, but in their dealings with the major labels. So many times the big payoff seemed to be just around the corner, but when it came down to it, no dice.

One of the amazing things about this band is the fact that a major label hasn’t placed them in a contract. A sound that you can dance to, songs that would do some serious chart damage, and an image that you could welcome into your own home. So what’s the problem, Mr. Record Company?

In getting ready to do the interviews, I was warned that “they won’t really talk”; “they’ll clam up”;” don’t try to talk to all of them at once, they won’t say anything.” Well, I did talk to them separately, but to the contrary, they were very friendly and open. And also quite willing to talk about their music and were honest about what they did. To go from expecting to pry statements from their mouths to the fun I had doing the interview was a very pleasant surprise.

Human Switchboard is: Bob Pfeifer, guitar / vocals; Myrna Macarian, keyboards / vocals; Jerry Nickerson, bass; Ron Metz, drums.

FFanzeen: The music that you write works on two different levels. On one hand, you have a pop feel on the surface, tight vocals harmonies, catchy hooks, etc. But on another level, there’s a deep emotional upwelling going on. Why do that; why dig so deep? For instance, there’s a line in one of your songs that goes, “A heart’s not quite a heart until it’s been broken.”
Bob Pfeifer: That’s probably a true statement

FF: Yes, I guess it is.
Bob: Well, there you go. That kind of answers it, doesn’t it? That’s just what comes out. That’s really the way it happens. I don’t think that my songs are morbid or anything, I think that actually they’re happy in a sense. I think that anyone that could say that would probably be a happy person because they could say it.

FF: They’ve been through it.
Bob: If they had been through it and are not happy, they commit suicide. No, not really, but the basic point is that, I don’t know, it just happens. I really would have a lot of trouble singing a lot of lyrics that I hear other people singing. I mean, Steve Perry or Styx or something. I really would have a lot of trouble and I simply don’t have the imagination to sing Rush lyrics. I sing about what is there. Sometimes I’ll use fictional characters, and I’ll get an idea. But at the same time the way that I’d portray it would be the way I’d – I mean, reality is more (interesting). I’d tell you the truth if I could explain it. I wouldn’t play it.

FF: That’s similar to what Van Morrison had said: it just comes out and he tries not to intellectualize about it.
Bob: You work on it, but you don‘t sit there and go, “I’m going to write a song about falling in love with a 14 year-old girl.”

FF: Have you received any flack from, say, the record companies about some of your lyrics?
Bob: No, nobody’s bugged me. Except when I used the word fuck in “Book on Looks,” and tried to get airplay with it. I mean, a lot of bands have used a lot worse words than I do that are a lot bigger than me. Prince in “Erotic City” is using –
Myrna Macarian (passing through): Fuck

FF: But with Prince, there’s this -
Bob: Mega-platinum. I know, that thing allows you to get airplay.

FF: Let me ask you about the record companies.
Bob: No, let’s not. I get in more trouble talking about record companies than about what my lyrics say.

FF: Well, maybe not a specific company. But you guys have been slugging it out since ’79 [sic].
Bob: I know it’s been a long time. I know I’m feeling my age.


FF: And it’s been that it happens, then it doesn’t, then the deals come back, then they go away again.
Bob: A lot of that has to do with people that support us, I mean our audience. Through these days that we haven’t had anything, we’ve been getting a bigger audience. The live shows and the earlier recordings being independently released saturated to a degree. That helps and the critics help create that buzz over and over again, which most bands don’t have the opportunity for. With (just) my record out, I couldn’t have headlined this room tonight (Irving Plaza). If you’d all walked out on me, playing ten dates with nobody, I would have gone, “Forget this.”

FF: Is that why you keep on?
Bob: Part of it. Of course, I couldn’t bear to play in front of no one. There’s enough people to reinforce the belief that you’re good, and that they enjoy it.

FF: So you’ll get back on stage –
Bob: And I love doing it, too; that’s another thing.

FF: Did you always want to?
Bob: Sure, who didn’t?

FF: Well, what about playing out in New York today, with the club scene as it is?
Bob: Well, I think the club scene is very difficult in New York right now. It used to be three or four years ago that you hand eight clubs. Eight first-line clubs going. You have three or four now, if you’re lucky. And you used to have clubs that had music three-four nights a week, like Harrrahs, and those places. Now you’re down to two nights a week in a lot of rooms. And the other thing is that fewer and fewer people are going out to music clubs. I think some of that has to do with the age of people; the baby boom. I think the other thing has to do with the economic situation. It’s harder and harder. You used to be able to get an apartment for $300 dollars in New York; now you’re lucky to find one for six.

Robert Barry Francos: Also, in ’75, CBGB’s was $2.50 to get in on a Saturday night, and 75 cents a drink. Now it’s like $5-$6 at the cheapest places.
Bob: The other thing is that Manhattan is so expensive to live in; you don’t have so many young people coming here any more. Every kid out of college used to come to New York for a while and it’s just not happening, because you can’t afford to do that. People are, I think, staying in their own cities, or else moving to the outskirts. And that diversifies the scene; it doesn’t make it a focal point. It makes it a lot easier to get into CBGB’s.

FF: Do you feel that this situation will help your band or hurt it in the long run?
Bob: I think it hurts all bands, but at the same time, I think that we have an older audience than most bands. I think it was Hilly (Kristal) at CB’s that said that he sells more top shelf when we play than any other band. Like, he’ll run out of Dos Equis and Heinekens, and not Rolling Rock. So economically, I guess that our audience would be capable of purchasing records. But at the same time, you look at Area or something, and that’s $15 to get in and $5 a drink. And that place has no problem being filled up. I think that might say that people that are a little older don’t want to sit at CBGB’s.

FF: What do you, yourself, like to sit down and listen to?
Bob: I listen to stuff on the radio. Stuff I get up with. I listen to Dylan, Beefheart; I like the Stones. I probably listen to stuff that everybody listens to. There are no secrets. Anybody that tells you that they were listening to the Velvet Underground at 12 is full of shit. They didn’t even have it. If all the people that talk about that album had bought it, it would have been platinum in ’68. Let’s be realistic. They sold like 3,000 units. I mean, let’s face it, the Switchboard outsold them in their time. That’s how small they were; that shows you ‘cause we’re this small. See, I’m really weird, ‘cause I’ll go in with a song and I go, “This is kinda like this…” and (the band) looks and me and goes, “What country are you in? That’s not Steve Miller! What are you going with that shit?” And I’m going, “Don’t you hear it?” And they go, “No,” and it turns into a Switchboard song. So I’m trying to relate by other music. Obviously, I don’t listen to Steve Miller, but something about it reminds me of him in this one song.

FF: The band has relocated itself in the New York area from Cleveland. Other than the obvious, is there a great change, creatively, in the two cities?
Bob: I think that you can distract yourself in New York more than anywhere else in the world, which isn’t particularly good for writing songs. “Gee, I feel depressed tonight, I think I’ll go out,” instead of, “I’m sitting in my room there’s nothing to do. It’s three in the morning in Cleveland. What to do? Guess I’ll pick up my guitar and write some lyrics.” It’s much more fun to go out.

FF: Is that what’s happening?
Bob: No, that doesn’t happen to me that much because I’ve been used to the city for a number of years. Even when we lived in Cleveland, I probably spent three months out the year here. And even when I go out, I basically hang around with my small group of friends. I’m too poor to go out in this fucking city.

FF: You were quoted in The New York Rocker as saying, “They become less involved. It’s what New York does, right? You’ve got to deal with fucking working eight hours just to pay your rent, when you don’t have enough money to buy a beer. And if you don’t get on a guest list, you’re dead.”
Bob: I could not afford to see myself play tonight.

FF: You couldn’t?
Bob: Right
RBF: Neither could I.

FF: So is there stuff that you have recorded recently?
Bob: Yeah, this last week we cut the tracks for a label for a song demo, for producers. There’s the demos from the PolyGram demo sessions, and there’s the session that Mike Thorne produced, who did Soft Cell. I didn’t appreciate his work until a few years ago.

FF: Will there be a Human Switchboard video?
Bob: Would I do a video? Sure, I’d do a video. I have no problem with videos. Certain kinds of videos I wouldn’t want to do.

FF: What kinds?
Bob: Like “Talking in Your Sleep” that the Romantics did, that I wouldn’t do. But other people have done good videos. I like Van Halen and ZZ Top’s videos; they have funny videos. I think the T.A.M.I. Show is great, and that’s all that stuff was, was videos. If you think about it, that was the equivalent of it in that day. I think that people that walk around and say, “I’m gonna be some kind of purist by not doing videos” isn’t being a purist, really. The tradition of rock’n’roll is that the music was always documented.

RBF: Even in the movies.
Bob: Sure, that was great! I remember as a kid going to see the movie just to see the performance.

RBF: In the movie Rock, Rock, Rock, with Frankie Lymon, each dance segment is a video.
Bob: Sure!

FF: On your cassette Coffee Break (on ROIR), you made the statement that you have the control of the record.
Bob: Did me a lot of good. You take it with a smile. It’s better than finding me bitter. Anyway, that’s four in the morning.

FF: In relating this to a video, how much control would you relinquish with the video? Would you write it yourself?
Bob: I don’t know. I think in terms of video I’m not visual enough in terms of my own band; that’s the difficulty. For instance, like producing records, I could produce us totally because I’m too involved. But when it comes to video, you just find a relation with the director, and you have some common ground. You don’t get a guy that’s used to doing Scorpions videos; you just be rational about this stuff and I think it works out just fine. I would be better at saying things that I don’t want, and I would pool some ideas that we would want, but I would leave it in their hands to a large degree. And you’d have to establish meetings and be aware of what’s going on, whether it’s turning the wrong way. People have a lot of fear about video and I just don’t have that.

FF: Is that basically the same process that you go through when recording with a producer or engineer?
Bob: Well, we’re probably more involved in the music than the video. We naturally have more knowledge and input because of our experience. And, the songs have been written and it goes a certain way.

FF: And producing yourself?
Bob: Well, we did that with our first record. But you’re not going to have a guy coming into the Switchboard and turning us into AC/DC. We don’t sound like that. That person wouldn’t work with us and we wouldn’t work with them. I think it’s easy enough to find a common ground. I think that if you work with good people transmitting the information of the kind of sound you want is much easier than –

FF: Putting something out of somebody that isn’t going to see it.
Bob: And that’s the ideal, right?

* * *

FF: In the album Who’s Landed in My Hanger, most of the material was Bob’s. You had co-written “Saturday Girl” and “I Can’t Walk Alone” with him. Now it seems that you’re writing more for the band. Does that change the way that you work and see the band?
Myrna: No. I think we work really well when we collaborate, and usually most of the songs that I sing I like to have a part in the way the vocals go. ‘Cause the way I vocalize something would be different than the way (Bob) would. There are songs like, well, he wrote the song “A Lot of Things” that I sing, and he wrote all of it. But that one was really suited for my voice, because we have such completely different vocalizings.

FF: Sure, because you have, well, I don’t want to say it ‘cause in some circles it’s a bad word, but you have a pop feel to your vocals.
Myrna: No, I don’t think that’s bad at all. I’m a pop singer.

FF: Whew! Great, because the way that you sing “Downtown” –
Myrna: I didn’t write that one.

FF: You didn’t?
Myrna: No, can you believe that?

FF: You might as well have.
Myrna: [Laughs hard]

FF: Well, how do you approach writing your songs?
Myrna: Generally, it’s an idea that you’ve been considering or a situation that presents itself to you. Most of the songs are about love and relationships, the way people act with each other, and friendship as a whole. But that’s what most music is based on.

FF: Say that there’s a song that you’ve come up with an idea for. Do you take it to the band and have them work it over with you, or do you more or less bring in a finished product?
Myrna: Well, I collaborate with Bob. And in some cases, he’ll come up with just a chord structure and bring it in, and I’ll work on it the way I feel and put a vocal on it. And then you have a song. Or, in some cases, the two of us sit down together and put music and then a vocal on top of it. But most of it starts with music first and then we put a vocal on top of it.

FF: You’ll get an idea for a riff or something –
Myrna: Yeah, you get little ideas. I don’t know where you get them, maybe something that you’ve heard before. You can’t help but be influenced, like a little melody, or something that occurs to you, and you build out of that. Because I seem to be more melody-oriented, I tend to go more for the melody line. I guess that’s my pop sensibility. I’m really not too self-conscious about it. I tend to be more intuitive about things. Maybe I’m not critical enough.

FF: But by being too critical, a lot of stuff doesn’t come out; by examining too closely.
Myrna: I’m not a very crafted songwriter. I would never look at it as a craft. I tend to do it the way it feels to me.

FF: You had been working with Bernie Worrell. How was it with another keyboardist in the band?
Myrna: It was great! It was great in a lot of different ways. It was tremendous to have a person of that stature. In a sense he’s probably one of my heroes in terms of keyboard players. He laid a lot of groundwork down for a lot of different kinds of music, especially a lot of modern stuff.

FF: How would the two of you work your parts out?
Myrna: In that situation, Bernie was taking over a lot of the rhythm parts and filling in. It’s kinda difficult to be able to do a lot with the keyboards and sing at the same time. It’s not like the guitar where you can get away with, ah –

FF: Just whacking at it.
Myrna: It was nice; it gave me the opportunity to sing more, and I got in front a couple of times. It gave me that chance. So, you work it out. I really liked working with another musician. It adds a different aspect. You can play around with rhythm and melody that you think about, that you can’t do on your own.

FF: It seems that the sound has changed a bit from having Bernie in the band. There are certain things I hear now in your music that were not that apparent before.
Myrna: I’d say that more than anything it gave us a chance to work things out and push them a little more to wherever they were going to go. A lot of it was just having an extra musician. You feed off ideas off people back and forth all the time. And he’s a great player.

FF: So how did all this music come to this point? In other words, why music?
Myrna: It’s like… well, people ask me that and I don’t know. It just sort of happened. Really, it did. I didn’t wake up one morning and go, “I’m gonna be on stage.” Sometimes I’ll be on stage and I’ll go, “How did I end up there?” I don’t know what happened. It’s been a long haul and there’s been a lot that went along with it; and it was a conscious choice, but for it to have gotten to where it is right now wasn’t something that we had ever foreseen. When we had decided to do it we wanted to go all the way. Maybe that’s why we’re not plagued with a lot of the same problems other groups have. Because it was something we all enjoyed and we did it because we enjoyed it. We didn’t do it because, “Well, we’re a band.” It wasn’t where you decide to do something where you wear your clothes a certain way to fulfill that. That didn’t quite happen. It evolved in a very natural way.

FF: Well, it seems natural. You look like you have a lot of fun.
Myrna: Oh, yeah. We wouldn’t do it otherwise. I wouldn’t do it otherwise. It’s not something that you do and not enjoy it. If you don’t, you’ll start hating it. But other people will hate it too, probably.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Human_Switchboard





Bonus video

DVD Review: Creep Creepersin’s Frankenstein

Text © Richard Gary/FFanzeen, 2011
Images from the Internet


Creep Creepersin’s Frankenstein
Directed by Creep Creepersin
Creepersin’s Films
60 minutes, USD $14.95
creepersinfilms.com
MVDvisual.com

Sometimes films like this piss me off. I mean, $2 budget, single location, three or four actors, and it tells a story in an hour. Why does it make me angry? Because this nickel-and-dime job is better than a lot of what I see coming out of Hollywood these days. No, dummy, I’m not mad at this film, but those filmmakers who spend millions to bore me, when it really doesn’t take that much to put out a good show with some talent behind ya.

The Frankenstein of the title is, in reality, the name of the protagonist’s pet rat. Victor (all the main characters have names that are in some way related to Mary Shelley’s book), portrayed by James Porter, is a lonely man living on an acreage (filmed outside Eugene, OR). After a childhood of verbal violence by his mom and sexual abuse by his dad, Victor is a severely mentally damaged human.

His day consists of waking, brushing his teeth (which we watch from a distance for a good couple of minutes the first time), eating his scrambled eggs (a symbol for his mind, I gather) while reading porn, playing with his white rat companion (whom he often carries around), and sitting on the porch as the grey days pass. He keeps the television on while old horror flicks flash (scenes include Chaney Sr.’s Phantom and Hunchback, Night of the Living Dead, Carnival of Souls, White Zombie, and Nosferatu). As the action continues, bits of these films are edited in as they reflect the action in the story. This is very well done, I might add.

The run-down, less-than-homey house is obviously the residence in which he grew up, with skimpy bamboo curtains and dark shadows. As a nice touch, behind the kitchen table is obviously his childhood dresser, filled with the stickers, and a front of one of the drawers is missing. This one object alone, whether the director meant it or not, is completely symbolic of Victor’s entire life and frame of mind.

His only visitor is a social worker who occasionally peaks in on him named Shelley (get it?), played by cigarette-growl-voiced Nicolle Nemeth, who looks like she is or was a hot biker chick. She bullies and teases him, making fun of his handicap for her own amusement. Generally speaking, she is not a nice person. As an interesting directorial choice, whenever she speaks, the dialog is played backwards so the viewer cannot understand what she is saying. Victor responds, as obviously he does comprehend, and his speaking is played normally. Even though Shelley’s soundtrack is in reverse, the tone is clear in what she means. This touch is just one of the many pleasant surprises and twists that make this film more than the usual indie drop.

Ever so quickly, his mind starts going further and further around the bend from reality. Victor begins hearing voices (by the Creeper, himself) and seeing his mother who sits with her back to him (Nikki Wall, Creepersin’s real-life wife and film partner), tormenting him and calling him gay slurs because of his paternal molestation.

Distressed about his solitude, he has an idea by glancing around the room and seeing a copy of The Annotated Frankenstein and Grey’s Anatomy books, and a nudie mag: Victor decides to create his own human companion. So when a young couple trespasses on his property, he hammers the woman (literally) and brings her back to his cabin. Carefully, using a marker, he draws lines on her body that make up the classic scar and stitch marks on the filmed Frankenstein’s monster. As he does this, he paraphrases Colin Clive’s classic line, “She only sleeping, waiting for a new life to come.”

There is an argument in Victor’s mind between him and the rat (yes, they “talk”) whether to name ”his creation” Elizabeth or Mary (the rat wins, and the latter is chosen; of course in the book and film, the creature had no given name), bitchily played by Kelly Kingsbury. He imagines her getting up and joining him for breakfast, with her first words (in his mind) being, “This coffee tastes like shit,” which is the kindest thing she has to say in the next few scenes. Again, this is where the joyously unpredictable comes in and style takes over. When Mary is talking, she is in a red filtered lens and is presented as a silent film, complete with title cards. Victor (who is often bathed in blue light) even has a conversation with her in the same shot, with Mary in an enclosure within the frame (shown briefly in the trailer, below).

While I won’t say more about the plot, I would like to add that I am duly impressed by the imaginative way this film is presented. Yes, there is a bit of scenery chewing, but Porter manages to make his character both demented, yet highly pathetic. I’m not sure how much Kingsbury was actually acting, as she obviously was not having a good time and didn’t even show up for the second day of the two-day shoot (as explained in the 30 minute or so Making Of documentary bonus feature). I would have liked to have seen more of Nemeth’s character, perhaps an explanation for her cruelty at worst, uncaring at best.

While A.L. Smith, Cordell Stetson, and Creepersin certainly did a great job with the editing, it is worthy to note that there are also some lengthy shots (I am guessing they had one real camera, other than the one used for the Making Of, which likely was a mini-cam). I have been seeing a lot of recent indie films in the horror genre, and this is definitely one of the better ones around. There’s not really any gore (though some blood), no nudity (other than pans of a magazine), nor much of a boo! factor, but there is definite tension and suspense going on, and this is definitely story driven.

The Making Of documentary is called “A Test of Our Own Stupidity,” mostly taped by Stetson on the second day of shooting. My suggestion is to just fast-scan through the first 10 minutes, which lives up to the title, as the crew stands around, smoking, jabbering, and not really saying anything noteworthy (other than the off-hand comment about Kingsbury’s unhappiness about the first day, but no details). Once Creepersin starts talking about his filmmaking process, and we see them setting up shots and filming, it gets more interesting, if inconsistently.

There are three trailers for this film added in the special features section, which is good, but I would have liked to have seen some from Creepersin’s other flicks, such as OC Babes and the Slashers of Zombietown, Creep Creepersin’s Creepshow, The Corporate Cut-Throat Massacre or (and I kid you not) Vaginal Holocaust.

DVD Review: The Walking Dead Girls!

Text © Richard Gary/FFanzeen, 2011
Images from the Internet


The Walking Dead Girls!
Directed by Tyler Benjamin
Cheezy Flicks
70 minutes, USD $14.95
Cheezyflicks.com
MVDvisual.com

There has been a rash of zombie-related tribute films of late, such the cartooned Night of the Living Dead: Reanimated, and Nicolas Garreau’s Fan of the Dead (both of which have been reviewed on this blog). Now there is the new 75-minute documentary, The Walking Dead Girls!, which further celebrates the newly coined term, “zimbie” (equivalent of zombie bimbo).

There are some interesting interviews here, conducted on the fly by actress Luna Moon (who also hosted the episodic soft-core Vamp Vixens). Let’s start with that…

It would almost be pointless to have a documentary about zombies in any fashion without interviewing the man, himself, George A. Romero (even though this is supposedly about women zombies). He appropriately comments how none of his films are actually about zombies, but the humans who are put in the extraordinary circumstance of being surrounded by the creatures, and how the living interact socially. It’s been documented how his flicks, such as The Night of the Living Dead series, have a strong socio-political bent (consuming ideology, consumerism, fascism, etc.). As always, he’s a master talker, and his brief comments are interesting. It just amazes me that he’s getting old, because it means I am, too…

Another interview is with Lloyd Kaufmann, who created Troma Films. Though most of his films are not zombie related (e.g., Toxic Avenger [and the sequels], Class of Nuke ‘Em High, Tromeo and Juliet, and Terror Firma), he did direct Poultrygeist: Night of the Chicken Dead. No matter, the admirable Kaufmann, who refers to himself here as “a married gay man” (he is hitched to Patricia Kaufmann, Film Commissioner of New York State; they have three children) talks about how he went to Yale with Oliver Stone and George W. Bush, and goes on to discuss how hard it is now to get his (and other indie) films distributed in theaters and television, since the Clinton media deregulations. Oh, and though not mentioned here, his book, All I Need to Know about Filmmaking I Learned from the Toxic Avenger, is worth looking up.

There is a talk with one of the original ‘80s “scream queens,” Linnea Quigley, who’s short, butch haircut is a bit of a shocker. Though looking her 50+ years, it’s an improvement over her nude, apparently stoned preview for Jesse Franco’s Blind Target. She explains how hard it was to play Trash in her breakout Return of the Living Dead (and how much she is happy having done it), and her role in both Night of the Demons. I had a chance to meet her at a Chiller Theatre convention in New Jersey in the late ‘80s, and she was really sweet and charming to me and the rest of the nerdboys.

Evil Dead is given a couple of nods, despite it not actually being about zombies. There’s a brief but very humorous interview with the very-underrated Bruce Campbell, talking about his early career. Also, there is a reunion of the three women from the first film, Betsy Blake (who does her demonic giggle), Ellen Sandweiss (who was attacked by a tree in the film), and Sarah York (was credited as Theresa Tilly). They look a bit matronly now, but prove that they can still scream quite effectively. It was a joy.

Some of the other interviews include Martin and Day of the Dead’s John Amplas (who is now an Associate Professor that teaches acting in Pennsylvania), Terry Alexander, the Jamaican pilot in Day, and Boyd Banks, a stand-up comic who appeared in some of the later Dead films and remakes.

We are shown some shots of a couple of conventions (where many of the interviews took place), such as ZomBcon, held in October 2010 in Seattle, and Portland, Oregon’s very humorous Zombie Walk, performed that same month (just coz it’s zombies, does all of them have to have a Thriller dance? Sheesh).

As a connecting thread (threat?) to all the interviews and conventions, we watch the shooting of a zimbie cheesecake calendar, which is shot in pretty straightforward poses, other than the models being made up to look undead (post-dead?) We watch seven of the month’s models as they arrive (i.e., “before”), are made up, their shoot, and on their way out of the studio. Luna gets to ask some Q&As, including asking the participants whether they prefer “slow or fast zombies?” and “brains or flesh?”

The mannequins’ occupations vary from, well, models, to adult actresses and exotic dancers, with ages ranging from 21 to 34. Some come across as kinda vacuous, but others are pretty sharp, with monikers like Mandy Apple, Sexy Lexi, Dara Davey Lilith Eve, and Natasha Timpani; others just use first name only. While none of them inspired me to desire buying the calendar, it was interesting to see the process from beginning to end.

There’s not a lot of social value to this documentary, but hey, we’re talking about zombies, so the point is the fun quotient, not whether this will inform us about world hunger (unless they desire human flesh, of course). It’s a cool breeze way to enjoy an afternoon with fiends. And as for me? Flesh over brains (as food) because it’s less work and quicker to be eating; I like chicken over lobster for that very reason.
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Videowave Clips 2: Hüsker Dü, The Murmurs, Buzzcocks, Philip Glass,Ofra Haza, Lene Lovich, Holly Beth Vincent

Text (c) Robert Barry Francos, 2011
Videos (c) Alan Abramowitz/Videowave

I became involved in the Videowave cable access program pretty early on, starting off as a photographer and ending as a videographer, but for most of the shows from the 1980s, I was floor manager for those clips below, being the connector between the set and the control room. Yeah, the guy with the clipboard and the headset. There was no money involved for anyone, but it gave me the opportunity to meet a lot of great talent, and also connected FFanzeen to some future interviews.

Here is a selection of a half dozen of bits of interviews of shows on which I worked. Meanwhile, Videowave is still on in many of the tri-state markets, and new shows are still being created.

Here is the second in a series of blogs, but I will only put up ones that has a direct link to either FFanzeen, or to me directly. As more interviews are digitized, I will put more up, with Alan’s kind permission, of course.

1. Hüsker Dü, May 1985
Here is a short clip of the band being interviewed by Executive Producer Alan Abramowitz (off-camera) backstage at the Peppermint Lounge. I worked the camera. Before the shoot, I gave the band copies of FFanzeen which they kept open on their lap throughout the interview (thanks, guys!). They were their usual surly selves, but not to an obnoxious level, and I liked them, as they were being themselves rather than presenting who they thought they should be. The unrelated partial clip following them is Alan being esoteric, as he’s wont to be on occasion.


2. The Murmurs, September 1994
Jennifer Krantz interviews the alt-folk rock duo who still has an incredibly strong following, years after they have parted ways. Alan and I had come across them performing at a street fair in Tribeca, and were immediately struck by their sound. The interview was done in two parts in an apartment. While I was the videographer on the second half, Alan actually video’d this first part because I was late (that’s me at the door in the interview; I enter into the room at 3:15). Leisha Gordy (left) went on to some acclaim co-starring in yogurt commercials and The “L” Word, and Heather Grody Reid formed the group Redcar.


3. Buzzcocks (Pete Shelley, Steve Diggle), December 1991
The ex-Dawn Eden conducts the interview with the Buzzcocks on a hotel bed in New York. I was on camera, trying to avoid embarrassing angles as much as possible, which was hard because of Alan’s placement of the tripod in juxtaposition to the position of the bed. The ‘Cocks were very pleasantly British, and seems to be enjoying Dawn’s antics. While not a very deep interview by any means, it’s uncomfortably interesting in a way an accident must be seen.


4. Philip Glass , June 1983
Alt-composer Philip Glass brought along his son, Zack, who was a punk-dressed pre-teen, and a great kid. The whole crew liked both him and Philip. Interviewer Merle Ginsburg does a great, informed job interviewing him, and he gave his full attention, which was appreciated. It certainly made the experience all the more absorbing. I was Floor Manager for this shoot.


5. Ofra Haza, January 1992
Dawn Eden does a better job interviewing the late Yemenite / Jewish singer Ofra Haza in her room at the Hotel Excelsior in NYC. I was on camera (which was actually my VHS camcorder that Alan used for a number of years), and was standing behind a comfy chair in a very small, uncomfortable space with the heavy and bulky camera on my shoulder (hence the shaking). Ofra was very nice - if professionally distant - off-camera, and I admired how open she was to a small, non-commercial outfit as we were, while she was on a major tour and getting a large press push to the majors.


6. Lene Lovich, Holly Beth Vincent, March 1983
As I promised in Part I, here is the Young Filmmakers Studio interview with both Holly Beth Vincent and Lene Lovich. Both were expats from the US living in England for a number of years, who came back to live in the States, one by choice, and one not. You know this is a long time ago, as Holly is smoking on the set. She came across as quite unpleasant to me, but some of the others present that day, including Alan, found her to be actually nice. Maybe it was my mood, or the fact that Alan was running the show and I was just the guy with the clipboard (re: insignificant to her)? Still, I like and respect her Holly and the Italian’s “Shut Up,” and the work she did with Joey Ramone. As I stated in the last Videowave blog, Lene was quite wonderful to work with, took the cues right on, and was totally present in the moment. They are interviewed by Merle Ginsberg, and segment is introduced by Michele Piza and Victoria Vesna.

A Look at Paste’s 100 Living Songwriters

Text © Robert Barry Francos, 2011
(Except for the list, which is owned by Paste Magazine – see link to original article at the end)
Images from the Internet”One man’s ceiling is another man’s floor”
– Paul Simon (No. 13)

Fifty musicians and composers made up the late Paste magazine’s list of the top 100 songwriters, essentially in the past 50 years. Published in 2006, this list came to my attention only a few days ago.

This is bound to drive just about anyone else crazy, because music is subjective to the core, which they firmly state in the opening article before the list. Their criteria was that those who selected “were encouraged to vote for the songwriters they treasured the most, not the ones with the highest sales, the biggest impact on culture or even the greatest influence on other songwriters.”

For me, I don’t capishe some of their choices, such as Patti Smith being No. 95 while Tom Petty is No. 29, or Allen Toussaint at No. 68 and then putting David Bowie at No. 16. Sure, there are some they got right (remember, this is my subjective opinion), like Michael Jackson down at No. 49, and Chuck Berry way up at No. 25 (though I would have put him much higher).

What I find most significant is the lack of artists on the list, such as Little Richard and Jerry Lee Lewis, both of whom are still very alive. The Ramones could have been added, with Tommy and Marky still standing. Yeah, their songs were simplistic, but the music they wrote and produced was exciting, and they electrified the world. What about John Lydon, who wrote some incredible lyrics?

It is leaving out Ellie Greenwich, who died after the list was formulated, that is just criminal (for just a starters, she wrote or co-wrote ”Leader of the Pack,” "(Today I Met) The Boy I'm Gonna Marry,” "Why Do Lovers Break Each Others' Hearts?" "Be My Baby," "Baby, I Love You," "Then He Kissed Me," "Da Doo Ron Ron," "Not Too Young To Get Married," "Hanky Panky", "Do Wah Diddy Diddy", "Chapel of Love,” "I Wanna Love Him So Bad", “I Can Hear Music," "River Deep, Mountain High"… well, you get my drift? To me, it just shows sheer ignorance on those who chose.

Here is Paste’s top 10:
10. Prince
9. Joni Mitchell
8. Elvis Costello
7. Brian Wilson (The Beach Boys)
6. Leonard Cohen
5. Paul McCartney (The Beatles, Wings)
4. Tom Waits & Kathleen Brennan
3. Bruce Springsteen
2. Neil Young (Buffalo Springfield, Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young)
1. Bob Dylan

With the exception of No 5 (Paul McCartney above Lennon-McCartney, who aren’t even on the list? Ha!), I don’t really have a problem with it.

But the thing is, though, that nearly all of these listed are pretty major players, despite the “favorite” label. However, there are so many other musicians who are under the radar who consistently write incredible songs. For example (in no particular order) there is Mary Gatchell, Tamara Hey, Maria McKee, Ruth Gerson, Harriet Shock (who has won awards for her tunes), Margo Hennebach, Adrienne Jones, Anne Lorre, Carrie Catherine, Kim Delmhorst… Oh, there are so many others.

My guess is that Paste’s selectors of the list have never heard of many – if any – of these powerful songwriters, because of their lack of numerous chart hits. You may have noticed that all the ones I have selected are women. Why? Because the Paste list has only 11: Patti Smith, Victoria Williams (No. 89), Julie Miller (No. 73), Dolly Parton (No. 55), Aimee Mann (No. 54), Gillian Welch (No. 48), Loretta Lynn (42), Carole King (No 31; one ahead of Leiber & Stoller), Lucinda Williams (No 22), Patty Griffin (No. 19), and Joni Mitchell (No. 9). They all deserve to be there, but that’s only 11 percent.

These kinds of lists are bad ideas. They draw in the readers, sure, and it’s those numbers that drive the magazine biz, but most of them are insufficient and have wide gaps. It’s part of the reason I usually don’t do “Best Of the Year” articles. Personally, I believe that these “greatest ever” things are made up just to get people riled and write angry letters, which can then be published to show everyone, “Look! People read us!” Guess it didn’t help Paste though, as they can no longer be listed in the 100 best existing magazines.

http://www.pastemagazine.com/articles/2006/06/pastes-100-best-living-songwriters-the-list.html

Bonus Videos:
Maria McKee


Carrie Catherine


Anne Loree


Ruth Gerson

DVD Review: Alien 2: On Earth

Text © Richard Gary/FFanzeen, 2011
Images from the Internet


Alien 2: On Earth
Directed by Ciro Ippolito (as Sam Cromwell)
Midnight Legacy
85 minutes, USD $19.95
Midnight-legacy.com
MVDvisual.com

Fulci. Argento. Deodato. These are names that will sound familiar to those who find joy in the Italian horror sub-genre generally referred to as giallo. The more current ultra-horror films such as Hostel, Saw, and Wolf Creek, may not have existed without these extreme and surgically efficient foreign bloodfests (then again, would the giallo have seen any light without the likes of American pioneer Hershell Gordon Lewis? But I digress…).

Perhaps the biggest promoter of these European films, especially in the New World, was the advent of the new videotape market. During the 1980s, the two largest renters were the extreme horror films and porn. Part of the reason was accessibility. Sure, one could have gone to any of the Times Square theaters and gotten their fill, but anyone away from these kinds of grindhouse theaters would probably be clueless. But then there was the VHS…

One of the problems of seeing these films via video in those heady days of the ‘80 is that the ever-hungry market would release just about anything that might sell, even if it was an incomplete copy; sometimes the story made no sense at all due to sections being removed by a specific European country’s moral codes. This may vary from country to country, so there were many different versions of these releases floating around.

Alien 2: On Earth (originally Alien 2 Sulla Terra) is a supposed sequel to the original Alien, from 1980. While never having an official theater showing stateside, like many of these foreign films, it was released under various names, including Alien Terror and Strangers. Another quirk of the early VHS days was the tendency of the production companies to call just about any film a sequel to anything that did well at the box office. This is a bit of an exception though, because director Ciro Ippolito (who also went by the pseudonym Sam Cromwell for this, his first directorial effort) meant this as an “unofficial” sequel, even though the bonds to the original James Cameron opus are negligible, at best (i.e., human hosts and snake-like creatures eventually popping out).

Alien 2 is, in hindsight, best described as having aspects of Alien, the underground spelunking death-trap of The Cave or The Depth, just a smidgen of The Night of the Living Dead, and the deserted streets scenarios of, well, so many others. The story is pretty simple: an American spacecraft returns to earth, and somehow, between starting its descent and the at-sea rescue (great Mercury-period stock footage is used during the opening shots), the astronauts have mysteriously disappeared. Around the same time, a strange sparkling rock is found by a group of friends (with big period hair, both female and male) in a small town near San Diego, before they head into a large cave system they plan to explore. For some reason, the main character, Thelma (Belinda Mayne), who is sometimes psychic and can tell that something is going to happen (unless it ruins a plot surprise moment, apparently), takes the football-sized rock, puts it in her backpack, and takes it with her from the surface into the cave (why not leave it in the car rather than schlepping it?). This shiny stone ends up actually being an egg for creatures brought back on the spaceship, and when it comes out of the rubbery-looking stone its destination is the host’s body.

From there, it’s a race to get to get out of the cave through alternative directions before becoming lunch. And once outside, will it be much better? Yes, there is gore, as a very puppet-looking creatures busts through a head with an eyeball hanging, or a head slides off a body (both seen in the trailer), for example. Despite the blood and guts, it is more really? than stomach-churning (unless you’re sensitive to these things). However, it is still a pleasure to see devices used rather than CGI.

Oh, and the inconsistent mistakes are wonderful. For example, while running through a supposedly empty city, as the camera follows the main character(s) while a street is crossed, the viewer can see a red light down the block and a car with its brake-light on. When the light turns green, the brake-light goes off and the car starts to move.

Just as with manga cinema, there are definite cues that this is giallo, almost like a checklist. There’s the close-up of the face with a light on it while a mysterious wind blows the flowing hair, the even closer shots of wide-eyes (though the “whites-only” eyes, usually a standard, is missing here), the shrill and two-tone electronic music (ooo-waaaa-oooo-waaaa), the shaky monster-cam view, and the very quick zoom in and out in Dr. Tongue’s House of Horror style. And like many Japanese films, the dubbed, over-enunciated voices are familiar to anyone who has watched a few of these films. In much of this release, while it is obvious that the actors are speaking English, the vocal track is recorded over back into English nevertheless.

Mayne’s character is the only one with any substance (relatively speaking), though there is no history given to her. Everyone else, including her (boyfriend?) (husband?), are inconsequential, or at least the equivalent of the members of the away crew of the Enterprise who were not in the main cast.

Okay, this is a silly film, granted, but as giallo goes, it is a fun flick that will fill an appetite for this genre. Yeah, if you’re a fan of these films as I am, leave your suspension of any disbelief before you slip this disc into your player, and you’re bound to have a fun time. Oh, here are some official things to note about this particular release: it’s in both DVD and Blu-Ray, it’s the first release by new company Midnight Legacy (let’s hope they let a lot more come our way), and it’s widescreen, taken from the original 35mm negative (rather than just copied from one of the myriad of VHS releases) They claim it is the most complete version available. All good news for giallo fans around the world.

So, grab some ‘corn, because it’s just what’s in order for watching this release.

Tommy Boyce: The Fifth Monkee

Text by Nancy Foster; introduction by Robert Barry Francos
© 1986, FFanzeen; introductory comments © RBF, 2011
Images from the Internet

The following article on 1960s music icon Tommy Boyce was originally published in FFanzeen magazine, issue #14, in 1986. It was written by Nancy Foster.

Around 1985, I was hanging out at Nancy Foster’s apartment on Third Avenue, just south of 14th Street, listening to some music. While the building had once been a high class high rise, now it was a bit of a roach-infested hovel. We had gone out to dinner, as we often had, and she was waiting on a visitor.

A ring of the bell, and Tommy Boyce was at the door. We all hung out for a little bit and joked around, and then I took some pictures, none of which came out well (it was a darkly lit room, and I had no flash yet). After a few minutes, I left Nancy to interview Tommy for the following piece.

Sidney Thomas Boyce, suffering from some physical and mental ailments, pulled a Del Shannon and did himself in with a gun almost a decade later, in 1994, but the music he wrote and inspired keeps on going. – RBF, 2011

What do Jay and the Americans, Paul Revere and the Raiders, the Monkees, the Lettermen, The Sex Pistols, Showaddy Waddy, the Darts, among many others, have in common? They all recorded songs written or co-written by Tommy Boyce.

It’s not surprising that Tommy co-wrote, with partner Bobby Hart, the theme to Dick Clark’s Where the Action Is, but the fact that they wrote the theme for that long running soap opera The Days of Our Lives is outrageous.

Talking to Tommy Boyce is fab and fun – like taking a crash course in pop. There are a lot of great stories out there, and he got a million of them.

Tommy Boyce’s first hit came when his father told him, “Write a song for Fats Domino and call it ‘Be My Guest’.” This was a hot tip. The phrase comes from the song “Sea Cruise”: “Be my guest / You got nothin’ to lose / Won’t you let me take you / On a sea cruise.”

So, Tommy wrote the song in 1959 and called Imperial, Fats’ record company. The guy at the record company said, when Tommy suggested the idea, “Fats won’t like it.” Well, Tommy wasn’t satisfied with that. A friend in the industry told Tommy the name of Fats’ hotel, so Tommy went, demo in hand, and waited in the hotel lobby for six hours. When he finally gave up his vigil, he walked out, only to bump into Mr. Domino himself.

Tommy was beside himself: “Uh – Mr. Domino – uh – I have a – uh – song for you. I know – uh – you’ll like it. Just – uh – listen to it. That’s – uh – good enough – uh – for me. My God! – uh – He –uh – touched it!”

One of Fats’ bodyguards tried to cut Tommy off, and the man himself spoke: “Let the boy talk. I like how the boy talk. Calm down, boy!”

So, Tommy gave Fats the demo and Fats promised to give it a listen. The record company contacted Tommy a few weeks later with the good news: Fats would record it. Even better news – Fats had a hit with it soon afterwards.

But then the drought hit. No hit for two years. So Tommy checked out Billboard and Cashbox. There he noticed something pertinent – the songwriting team of Doc Pomus and Morty Shuman had three hits in the Top-Ten! “Wow!,” thought the budding pop god. “If anyone knows the secret of writing hit songs, they must!” Tommy saved his money and made a 3,000 mile trek to find the key to songwriting.

When Tommy arrived in New York City, he hung out at the Brill Building. Then he approached Doc and Morty at their fave teatime hangout. “I wrote one hit and I can’t seem to do it again. I came 3,000 miles to find out the secret of writing hits.”

The answer was simple: “The title.” With this valuable information, Tommy had a hit three months later with “Pretty Little Angel Eyes,” sung by Curtis Lee. Tommy mixed the doo-wop of “Blue Moon” with the romance of the Everly Brothers’ “Ebony Eyes,” to come up with the world’s first romantic doo-wop record with a white guy singing lead and black guys singing back-ups.

Tommy had some solo singles: “Sweet Little Cathy,” followed by “I Remember Carol,” in 1962. In 1964, Jay and the Americans had a hit with “Come a Little Bit Closer,” a by-then-songwriting-team Boyce & Hart composition.

Then, the men behind the Monkees wanted Boyce & Hart to put their musical Midas Touch on the Monkees’ first album (The Monkees). They wrote the TV theme, “I Wanna Be Free,” “Last Train to Clarksville,” “Tomorrow’s Gonna Be Another Day,” “This Just Doesn’t Seem to Be My Day,” “Let’s Dance On,” “Gonna Buy Me a Dog,” etc., as well as added their production know-how.

Yet, it wasn’t all “peaches and cream” behind the scenes of the Monkees. Mickey was fooling around during the recording of “Last Train to Clarksville.” Tommy chastised Mickey and the air turned blue. Mickey returned in kind saying only he could sing the song right. Tommy left the studio and Mickey kept his promise, and such is the way great hits are made.

After leaving the Monkees' songwriting stable, Boyce & Hart, the reflex hitmakers, had three albums on their own on A&M Records, as well as writing the theme to the film Where Angels Go, Trouble Follows.

In 1975, five years after the Monkees’ demise, David Jones had the idea to put together a new version of the Monkees, with Mickey Dolenz, Tommy Boyce and Bobby Hart. He could not get the legal rights to use the name “Monkees,” so the group of Dolenz, Jones, Boyce & Hart was born. It was so successful that they did a year-long international tour and put out two albums, one studio and one live in Japan.

After the tour, Tommy decided to visit London. He planned to stay a few weeks and ended up staying nine years.

A band called Showaddy Waddy (the British Sha Na Na) recorded religious version of Curtis Lee’s “Pretty Little Angel Eyes” and “Under the Moon of Love.” Then Tommy got together with Richard Hartley of The Rocky Horror Picture Show fame and said, “Let’s put everything I know about the Monkees with everything you know about Rocky Horror, and put it together. The Darts had three albums produced by Tommy, as well as recoding some of his songs, like “Peaches and Cream,” originally done by Tina Turner in 1965.

Tommy also produced the wonderful Pleasers, which included a couple of singles, such as their version of the Who’s “The Kids are Alright.” Tommy said he really enjoyed producing them, and the only thing that held them back was a “rotten manager.”

One of my favorite anecdotes of Tommy’s was the Johnny Rotten story: When Tommy first met Johnny, he introduced himself as the writer of “I’m Not Your Stepping Stone,” and added that he dug the Sex Pistols’ version. Instead of taking a compliment graciously, the ungrateful Mr. Rotten answered Tommy with a beer can in the face.

Years later at the Peppermint Lounge in New York City, Tommy ran into Johnny again and decided he deserved a second chance. So, he introduced himself again. This time, Johnny was more civilized: “You’ve got a lot of money, donca? How about buying me a drink and giving me a few bucks?” Tommy showed his Southern hospitality (he’s from Virginia) by indulging the no-so-rotten one.

Another great story is when Tommy was producing cuts of Iggy Pop’s album, Party. It was a high pressure situation. Iggy said, “Produce me a hit, Tommy, or I’ll kill myself!”

Then there was the time when Christopher “Superman” Reeves asked to meet Tommy. Tommy was impressed with his size and wondered, “Where’s your cape?” Christopher was impressed by Tommy’s wit, but he had a confession to make: “When I was living in the Midwest and I was fourteen, ‘Last Train to Clarksville’ was my favorite song.” When you have Superman on your side, you know you’re okay.

Tommy, who has never been out of the swing of things for long, will soon be back in the public eye. Lorimar Productions wants to do a video on the history of Boyce & Hart. Slated to star in the video are Larry Hagman and Barbara Eden, who will show the Boyce & Hart clip of “Out and About,” from the I Dream of Jeannie show, circa 1965. Elizabeth Montgomery will present another clip from Bewitched, as well. There will also be various and sundry acting and musical personalities, including Tony Orlando, Connie Francis, Chris Reeves (who will aspire to reveal how “Clarksville” was written), etc.

The video will be filmed mostly in Los Angeles, but Tommy took time out to visit New York City and some long-time musical cohorts, like the inestimable Keith Allison (of the Crickets, Where the Action Is, Paul Revere and the Raiders, etc., fame). Where he’ll be next is inn the watching!

Fats Domino


Curtis Lee


Tommy Boyce


Days of Our Lives Theme


Jay and the Americans


The Monkees


Where Angels Go, Trouble Follows


Bewitched


I Dream of Jeannie


Dolenz, Jones, Boyce & Hart


The Darts


The Sex Pistol


Iggy Pop


My favorite of the Boyce & Hart songs