In October 1977, I was invited me to a Halloween party at Keith
Streng’s house, in the heart of the borough of Queens. Keith was and is a
member of a raucous band, the Fleshtones. I had not seen them as of then, but
had heard many people speak of them favorably. Yeah, sure, why not?
When I finally did get a chance to see the Fleshtones perform the
night I interviewed them, I was duly impressed by how compelling their sound
was. With a strong mixture of sixties psychedelia, R&B, garage and pop
sounds, the band is frenetic and easily one of the more underrated dance bands.
Though they’ve never been appreciated to the level they deserve, they persevere
and continue to thrill their fans.
The interview below, which I conducted at Max’s Kansas City, was
published in FFanzeen, Issue #3, dated Winter/Spring 1978-79.
Peter Zaremba (photo by Robert Barry Francos)
The Fleshtones Interview
I have known some members of the Fleshtones since last October. Whenever
we met, we would talk rock’n’roll. Finally, it was at the Dictators concert at
My Father’s Place that I asked for an “official” interview with the band. The
next week, the Fleshtones were due to play at Max’s Kansas City with the
Erasers. So that night, June 10, 1978, I did the interview upstairs in a Max’s
dressing room. In attendance were, of course, the Fleshtones: Peter Zaremba
(vocals, keyboards, harmonica), Keith Streng (guitar, vocals), (Jon) Marek
Pakulski (bass), and Lenny Calderone, Jr. (drums). Also in attendance in this
very small space were Chris Stamey, Gordon “Detroit” Spaeth (guest sax on “I’m
Real” and “Crossfire”), M. Henry Jones, who did a short and now classic film
(using pixilation) of the ‘Tones performing “Soul City,” and Zantees' lead
singer, Billy Miller.
FFanzeen: You seem to be very sixties-oriented. Which bands? Peter Zaremba: Everyone likes the same bands. At
this point, everyone’s into the same influences.
FF: Which new bands do you listen to? Keith Streng: DMZ. I love DMZ. Though we hate
their album [DMZ, on Sire – Ed.].
Peter: We’re definitely into Boston music. They’re really a lot neater than
most bands. Like the Count [Joe Viglione – Ed.]. The Count has an
amazing personality. You could mistake him for a genius.
FF: How did you get signed on Red Star Records? Peter: Well, Marty’s (Thau) into – it’s strange
what Marty’s into.
FF: Suicide. Walter Stedding. Peter: Right. He’s into taking chances. We’re
just the latest one. He’s certainly into supporting bands. We like Marty.
FF: Have you recorded yet? Keith: No.
Peter: We’ve made tapes by ourselves. Maybe you’ve heard some of them?
FF: No, this is the first time I’ve heard you. Peter: Really. What was your opinion of what we
are doing? Do you think it was very straightforward?
FF: I thought it was very sixties-ish and right out of ... Keith: Riot on Sunset Strip.
FF: Yeah. When are you recording? Keith: July. An album.
FF: Are you going to name the album after the group, like the other
Red Star artists, like the Real Kids album is called The Real Kids?
Peter: We’re definitely not gonna do that.
Keith: We really like the Real Kids.
Peter: All the Boston bands are like, really psychotic, almost. Really
emotional.
FF: What are some of the songs you do? Keith: The instrumental we do is called “Atom
Spies.” The other instrumental we did tonight is called “Zombie,” but that will
eventually have lyrics.
Peter: “Judy,” “Code Three,” “BYOB.”
(Someone): “Nervous Breakdown.”
Keith: That’s not an original. If that was an original, we’d be stars.
Peter: You know, stuff.
Keith: “Keep on Dancing’.”
Peter: “Caroline,” “Soul City.”
Keith: “Sometimes Good Guys Don’t Wear White.” We do them because they help us
with our song writing.
Peter: We’re not actually trying to bring back the sixties.
FF: What songs are you recording for the album? Keith: I don’t know.
Peter: We’re not sure, but we want to try to get as many sounds as we can on
the album.
FF: I mean, what ratio between covers and originals? Peter: At most there’ll be three covers on it.
FF: Which ones? Peter: Probably “Caroline.” “Rockin’ This
Joint” by Kid Thomas. Maybe “Come On, Let’s Go.”
Keith: Yeah, we’d like to do a version of “Come On, Let’s Go.”
Peter: By Richie Valens.
FF: How did you get the idea of doing the film and showing it on
stage as you play? Keith: That’s Henry’s alley.
M. Henry Jones: I had the idea to superimpose the visuals over the subjects. The
sound will be played with the film and the group will play live over it. And
what happens happens. The film is called “Soul City.”
FF: How long did it take to make the film? Henry: Nine months. It’s two minutes long; it’s
a two-minute song. It will be officially released in October, but a lot more
work has to be done on it.
FF: How will it be released? Henry: A worldwide distribution.
FF: How were the Fleshtones formed? Peter: Those guys were always in bands, y’know.
They started to jam and they started doing this experimental thing. For it,
Marek was playing bass and everybody was switching instruments. I came into it
and we decided to form a band. And we learned, like, four songs and played at a
party a few days afterwards and, you know, we just kept doing it.
FF: How long ago was that? Peter: It was a few years ago. And we still
like to play at parties. We get some good sounds.
FF: You’re a good party band. (Billy Miller enters) Peter: Have you heard the Zantees?
FF: Yeah, they’re good. Peter: We’re big Zantees fans. The main thing,
you know, is to have a good time.
FF: How would you describe yourselves? Peter: Basically, nice guys. We’re just
rock’n’roll sort of guys.
FF: What do you do during the daytime?s Peter: Generally, I wake up six or seven in the
evening. And then we rehearse.
Billy Miller: Then he goes over to Miriam’s (Linna) house.
Peter: Then I go over to Miriam’s house.
Keith: And listen to her great record collection.
FF: Do you plan to tour? Keith: Yeah, tomorrow we play in his house and
the day after in my basement.
Peter: We did a really good gig in Philadelphia.
Keith: That was a hot gig.
Billy: You should have seen these guys in Connecticut.
FF: And of course, you played in Boston. Peter: That was a minor stop.
Keith: That was a real fuck-up.
FF: Who did you play with up there? Peter: The Real Kids. We would like to play
with DMZ. There’s a lot of bands up there we’d like to play with. They’re very
straightforward. What’s your next question? What’s the future of rock’n’roll? Well
. . .
FF: What’s the future . . . What are the group’s goals? Keith: I don’t know.
Peter: We always sort of just wanted to play this music and have people like
us. To get people into rock’n’roll for being rock’n’roll. Being able to react
to it other than intellectually. I guess as a group, we’d like to make some
money eventually.
Keith: We wanna get better, too.
Peter: We practice a lot. We try to get better.
* * *
The large crowd in the dressing room and the post-set adrenaline
made the situation a bit chaotic and unnerving for this interviewer, so
follow-up questions were definitely missed. The Fleshtones were and are a party
band. Driving rhythms and motion, and yet with an intellect that guides them
into commanding the listener out onto the dance floor.
Red Star never did release their album. They were, however, signed
to IRS and released the Up-Front EP in 1980, and
then their first album, Roman Gods in 1981. The tapes of their Red Star
sessions would be released by ROIR (that wonderful source of overlooked or old
demos/recordings) in 1982, by the title of Blast Off.
Peter Zaremba came to be known nationally as the host of the MTV
show, “160 Minutes,” which presented new and obscure videos by independent
bands. He has also hosts the CaveStomp! shows in New York. Keith Streng formed
his own experimental rock’n’roll group with REM’s Peter Buck, called Full Time
Men, which have a few releases. But through it all, the Fleshtones remain a
viable band, coming close to breaking with a song and video for “American
Beat,” from the soundtrack of the film, Bachelor
Party.
It is also worth checking out the biography of the band by Joe Bonomo,
titled SWEAT: The Story of the Fleshtones (reviewed
HERE).
Saul at Night Directed by Cory Santilli JawDoc Productions; Utopia 85 minutes, 2019 / 2022
Covid vaccines. Voting suppression. Conspiracy theories. In all of these, and more, there is a contingent of people who believe that the government is trying to control our lives. Of course, this is mostly nonsense, but this film takes it as reality in a dystopian, twisted way. No, there’s no martial law, no Big Brother monitors. It’s all sort of mundane, really. And it is expressed in the opening shot of sheep, which could be referring to sleep, or…
In this version of society, sleep is mandatory from 10 PM to 6 AM. For everybody. Well, everybody except the titular – unrelated to “Please Call” – Saul (Kentucker Audley). For he alone is, in the words of Rhonda Sheer, up all night, for the same 8 hours everyone else is in sleepyville. While he sleeps, the world goes on around him, including his wife, Kathyrn (Stephanie Ellis) and their early teenaged daughter, Cleo (Acadia Colan). Sleep is enforced and controlled, so you fall asleep and wake up on the dot, and do not wake up in-between (do people wear adult diapers to bed, or is that controlled, too, I wonder…).
Kentucker Audley
They’re all in the same house, at the same time, but when the females are sleeping, Saul is awake with nothing to do all night, and vice versa during the day as Kathyrn goes to work and the kid attends school. For him, there is no television (no one to watch it, technically, so nothing is aired), no radio, no open stores – though everything seems to be unlocked as he wanders about, including a shopping center (Swansea Mall) and museums – since no one else is awake to steal anything; and like a vampire, no sunlight (I hope he’s getting enough Vitamin D). There are only handwritten notes passed between Saul and his family. In this world, there are no home computers, and cell phones will not work for him since there is no one awake to talk. Well, the one computer proper we do get to see is an old cathode monitor rather than a slim type. And when Saul needs to check in with the government at an office, we see green text on black screen, like coding before WYSIWYG.
Suzanne Clément
When he’s not at home, he’s roaming around an empty Providence, RI (I’m surprised the street lights are on, because in real life, they would be turned off to save government funds), until he suddenly meets someone else who is awake, French-only speaking Amalur (Suzanne Clément, who is Quebecois). After being essentially alone after over 800 days with no one to talk to, or hug, this is a blessing, and a curse. Until they meet, there is perhaps only a dozen words spoken in the film. When Amalur talks, there are very easy to read big, yellow subtitles, I’m grateful to say.
For the longest time, this is a personality study about loneliness, and the lack of mutual spontaneous affection. Even though Saul and Amalur don’t understand each other’s monologs, talking past each other, the sound of another’s voice draws them to each other, even though they both have families. And yet, for some reason, we see the effects on the daytime side of Saul’s family, but not Amalur’s husband and three sons (we only see a photo of them).
There is a very subtle commentary on propaganda and mind control, as we see the rare television commercial (there is no new programming, apparently, as all we see is a clip from the politically safe The Dick Van Dyke Show from the early 1960s; MAGA?) and a billboard, both promoting sleep.
Stephanie Ellis
It’s interesting, of course, to see the slow burn relationship between Saul and Amalur, as they both try to communicate the best they can, and not let emotions muck things up, which of course they do, but not necessarily how one might imagine. The film does not take the easy or obvious road, but perhaps a more realistic one. Emotions and nerves are close to the edge for all involved, not just for Saul and Amalur.
The film has been described as science fiction, which is nonsense. I’m sure in the mind of whomever wrote their publicity the fact that it’s a dystopian, authoritarian existence that may be what gave them that idea as a descriptor, but with voting rights being stomped on and a possible Gilead in our future, where technology is controlled by the government, the alterations would be in shades of difference from our current reality, rather than some grand Zardoz (1974), Logan’s Run (1976) or even Orwell’s 1984 perspective. There is an old bon mot that states that films about the past and future are really about the present. This one is especially true.
Considering this is the director’s initial feature after a few shorts, it is quite the impressive debut. The acting is all top notch, though considering the history of the talent that is hardly surprising, and despite the slow and steady pace, there is still a feeling of tension and urgency among the angst. A beautiful and moving film, as well as a warning of what may be around the corner.
Live at the Left Bank (Photo by Robert Barry Francos)
(Ronnie) Spector of the Eighties
Veronica
Bennett Spector and the Ronettes, was one of the key voices of the ‘60s girl
group sound. They, along with the Shangri-La’s, were early proto-punks,
standing up to authorities and their parents, to love whom they wanted how they
wanted.
The queen bee
was Ronnie Spector, whose glorious voice demanded you be her little baby,
insisting that you pass the litmus test of walking in the rain with her, and if
you did that, baby, she’d love you.
I don’t
remember exactly how the opportunity came up, but Ronnie was finally out from
under the thumb of ex-husband/producer Phil Spector (d. 2021), and recording her
Siren album with Genya Ravan’s Polish label, and I was offered the chance to
interview her. Hell, yeah.
This interview was conducted by myself with an assistance from John DeCeasre, and was published in
FFanzeen No. 6, dated Year-end 1980.
During the week of August
11, 1979, the day that Patti Lee Smith Smith played the Dr. Pepper Festival in
Central Park during the day and CBGB at night, photographer/friend John
DeCeasre dreamed that he saw Ronnie Spector on stage with Patti. Sure enough,
there she was, doing “Be My Baby,” with her on the aforementioned night. A
dream come true for John, who has been a fan of Ronnie’s since he first saw her
on stage at the Fox Theatre in Brooklyn, home of the Murray the K rock’n’roll
shows in the early ‘60s.
Ronnie Spector has been
through a sort of hell and has come out the other side. Years of loneliness,
locked away in a 23-room mansion by husband and producer, Phil Spector, have now
led her to performing and touring with such major artist as Southside Johnny
and the Asbury Jukes and “The Boss,” Bruce Springsteen. A few recordings have
come out here and there, most notably a dynamic version of “It’s a Heartache,”
which was totally lost in the shuffle of the Bonnie Tyler release of that same
song. With these recording under her belt since her divorce from Phil in 1974,
she signed with Genya Ravan, who produced her first album, Siren, which has just been
released. Thus was the beginning of Polish Records and the start of a new
career for this ex-Ronette.
Ronnie, a health nut who
likes White Castle hamburgers, sat with her two admirers in the office of her
manager, who was also present (neither John or I caught her name, thinking the
other had), on the Upper East Side of Manhattan. The date was September 18,
1980.
RBF & Ronnie (photo by John DeCeasre)
* * *
FFanzeen: More
or less, everyone now knows about your history in the Ronettes and until your
break-up with Phil in 1974. I’d like to talk about the period after that. Ronnie Spector: Is that machine on?
FF: Yes, it
is. Ronnie: Oh, my God!
FF: After your
marriage, there is this empty void up until – I remember seeing a picture of
you in Musical Express– about
‘76-’77. What happened between the two?
Ronnie: I sort of semi-retired at that time. First of all, when I divorced
Phil, I went to Buddha Records and Phil sent them a letter and said that I was
still under contract, and so right away they said, that’s it. Boom, I was out. That happened
a couple of times. It seemed he was just gonna destroy everything I attempted
to do. So, I just retired. So, I stayed in Europe for a while with friends. Then
Dick Clark asked me to do his “Oldies but Goodies” show. I would co-headline
with Chuck Berry. I did that. But I also thought I wasn’t remembered, because
during the marriage, the Ronettes were never mentioned and I only recorded one
song, “Try Some, Buy Some.” So, I didn’t think people remembered me.
(photo by Robert Barry Francos)
FF: They never
forgot. Ronnie: I’m noticing that now. At that
particular time, I had no idea that people even remembered the Ronettes, Ronnie
Spector, anything – the voice or anything. After ’74, I did the Dick Clark
(show) at Madison Square Garden and there were 23,000 people there. I got a
standing ovation. I had three encores and then we went off and people were
still screaming and I thought it was because Chuck Berry had come on stage. We
were already in our dressing room and we had to come all the way back ... on
stage and do another “Be My Baby.”
FF: Was that
with the Ronettes? Ronnie: Not the originals, it was just two girls
I hired. The first two were my sister and my cousin.
FF: I have
only two questions to ask about Phil. Ronnie: Sure, you can ask anything.
FF: Did you
see the program on PBS called “All You Need Is Love,” in which they showed this
long segment of Phil just sitting there talking about how depressing he now is? Ronnie: Phil? No.
FF: The second
is, do you still keep in touch with him? Ronnie: Yes, well, we have a child so we’re
still on speaking terms. Maybe if we didn’t have a child we probably wouldn’t
be. Phil is a very arrogant, very bossy, very pushy sort of person. So I
probably wouldn’t be as friendly with him if it weren’t for our child.
FF: Getting
back to the Dick Clark Show ... Ronnie: Well, right after that I retired
again, ‘cause I didn’t like to be associated with the name, “Oldie but Goodie.”
First of all, I’m in my early 30s; if anybody should be the “Oldies but
Goodies” it should be the Tony Bennetts, the Frank Sinatras, you know what I
mean. It was crazy to me, but I enjoyed doing the Dick Clark Show, only ‘cause
it showed me I still had fans. And I love Dick Clark as a person, anyway. He’s
a wonderful man, and that’s why I did the show with him. As a friend. Then I
retired again. Then I went out with (John) Lennon one night – this is after he
had broken up with Yoko – so I went out with him for a while. So, Lennon
introduced me to Jim Iovine, who was the engineer for the Jukes and
Springsteen, and I was sitting home doing nothing one night and they called me
to come down to the Record Plant, one of those recording companies, just to
watch them, whatever. So, I went down and started singing along with them and
everything and they freaked. They said, “Ronnie, would you –,” and that’s when
I did “You Mean So Much (To Me Baby)” [from the
Jukes’ I Wanna Go Home album – Ed., 1980] for John. Southside Johnny (Lyon). After that, Billy Joel had written
“Say Goodbye to Hollywood,” so the East Street Band [Springsteen’s
band – ed., 1980] backed me up on that. Springsteen
and Lyon were the producers. Nothing really happened with it over in the
States. Even now it’s a classic; you can’t get it. But at that particular time,
I couldn’t find the right producer because everybody that I looked at,
everybody wanted to be a Phil Spector. Everybody. It was like “Be My Baby,” and
if it didn’t sound like “Be My Baby,” it sounded like “Walking in the Rain.” So,
I got really disgusted about the whole thing. I just retired again. Then I got
a call, sitting home; I was reading a book, I got a phone call from Genya
Ravan. She said, “You never met me before, but I’m gonna be your next
producer.” She didn’t say, “Let’s think about it; I’d like to talk to you about
it.” She said, “I’m gonna be.” She said, “For five years I’ve studied your
voice and for five years I’ve looked for you and tried to find you and I
couldn’t.” She was so persistent. I said, “I gotta go meet this woman.” So, I
went over and met her and we hit like that. Vibes. She knew my voice like Phil
would. That’s how Siren all started. A lot of people ask, “Why did it take so long?” ‘Cause
it’s been almost two years getting the material. Because everybody was sending
songs that sounded like “Be My Baby” or “Walking in the Rain.” And she didn’t
want that; she wanted something in the ‘80s. She wanted her own thing. Phil did
his thing; she wanted to do her thing. She was absolutely right. And I was
looking for that too. I was looking for someone who didn’t say, “I can’t beat
Phil Spector.” She was the first. And that’s why I’m back now.
(photo by Robert Barry Francos
FF: What about
Jack Nitzsche (d. 2000)? Ronnie: Well, Jack Nitzsche was supposed to
do the arrangements on the songs, but he had to be out of town and so it didn’t
work.
FF: He’s all
over the place. Ronnie: He wanted to do it. At that
particular time, Nitzsche was going through a lot of problems. That’s another
reason he wasn’t on the album. And Genya just kept on trying. She had the
confidence in me – she didn’t even look for record companies. She was so
confident in me, she formed her own record company, Polish Records. And all
because of me. She didn’t have another group already that was big and then say,
“Well have Ronnie.” I was the one that made it happen.
FF: Other
records she’s produced have been for Sire, like the Dead Boys’ Young, Loud and Snotty.
Ronnie: Right.
FF: How did
you get associated with Patti Smith? Ronnie: Patti Smith introduced herself to me.
One night I went with Genya to (CBGB) and Patti Smith said, “I heard Ronnie
Spector’s in the audience,” ‘cause she sings “Be My Baby” in her act. Patti
tells me, and Debbie Harry, all these girls, that I was their inspiration. I
freak them out. Vocally, they all wanted to make it because of me. That’s such
a compliment.
FF: You have
to remember that you were the epitome of the all-girl groups of the sixties,
that (Phil Spector) “wall of sound” sound. The Marvelettes, the Shirelles ... Ronnie: The Shangri-Las.
FF: The
Shangri-Las were something else again. Ronnie: And again and again.
FF: Ike and
Tina Turner. That record flopped, “River Deep, Mountain High.” Ronnie: In America. It was number one in
Europe. That’s why Phil retired. I was married at that time.
FF: I listen
to that record and I have to stop everything. I think, I’d like to meet that
man. Ronnie: No, you wouldn’t. No, (just kidding).
FF: I would
have liked to have been there. As he was playing with the controls. Ronnie: He’s a great producer, or was, or
what-have-you.
FF: What do
you think of his work on the Ramones’ new album, End of the Century? It’s been getting a
lot of bad press. Ronnie: I don’t like the Ramones that much
anyway. But the Ramones had a lot to do with their album. Even though Phil did
the production, the Ramones still had a lot of control
FF: You do a
Ramones song on your album, “Here Today, Gone Tomorrow.” Ronnie: Right. And everybody thinks I did
that because the Ramones did my “Baby I Love You.” And that is not true. In
fact, I did a radio show the other day and they asked me that ... and it wasn’t
true. It was just a good song. And Genya was looking for good songs. That’s
what took so long in making the album. It took a year to get the right material
and all that stuff, and she was very choosy and I like that. She didn’t go and
say, “Boom, boom, boom because you’re Ronnie Spector and I can make a quick
dollar and that’s it.” She didn’t feel that way.
FF: There’s a
group called the Steinettes who perform a few of your songs. Ronnie: Another compliment ... Whether its
Patti (Smith) or Debbie (Harry), it’s really incredible. Donovan had that
“Oldie but Goodie” album he did with all the old – well, he did “Be My Baby,”
but he wouldn’t put it on the album. He called and he said, “Ronnie, I can’t do
it. I can’t. It’s such a classic, and the way you do it and the way I sound,
forget it.” A lot of people have attempted it. Andy Kim did “Baby I Love You,”
the Ramones did “Baby I Love You,” Cher did “Baby I Love You” [as did Dave Edmunds – Ed., 1980]. But nobody will touch “Be My Baby.”
FF: Patti has
it on a bootleg called You Light Up My Life. Ronnie: When I did it with Patti, I had no
idea she would call me on stage. I had no idea anyone knew I was even in the
audience. And she said, “I heard Ronnie Spector is (in the audience), and if
she doesn’t get up here right now ...” – you know. So, I got up and did “Be My
Baby” and the audience went crazy.
FF: I bet she
was in shock, too. Ronnie: She was. Which is all a compliment. It’s
giving me back the confidence I need. Phil took a lot of confidence away.
FF: He’ll pay
for that in his next life. He’ll be born deaf. [laughter] Just a little joke
... Now it’s not an all-girl group anymore. Ronnie: (Now) it’s all men. I’m the only
female in the group.
FF: In what
way is the music different? What image are you trying to portray? Ronnie: I’m not portraying any different
image, ‘cause I’m always gonna sing “Be My Baby.” I’m always gonna be loose on
stage. I’m not gonna change my whole entire act – all of a sudden come out in
gowns with gloves up to here. I’m just gonna be Ronnie Spector. Still dancin’,
still loose; spontaneous.
FF: How do you
feel about your upcoming Bottom Line performance [which was cancelled until
late November so she could do a video and start the next album – Ed., 1980]? Ronnie: I can’t wait! I had to wait a year
and a half because Genya wouldn’t let me work or perform anywhere. I love
performing so much that I’m going stir crazy ...
FF: What are
the other two Ronettes doing now? Ronnie: They’re my sister and my cousin, and
they’re both happily married. Which is nice, if that’s what you enjoy doing. I
don’t mind anything. [laughter] No, I’m serious. If you enjoy it, what the hell. I mean, I maybe would
have enjoyed being a housewife with Phil if he had worked from nine-to-five. Phil
never went out. Annually, we went out together. So, he was constantly there. Plus,
being a housewife, I never cooked, I never cleansed. I never had to do anything
...
FF: Not in a
23-room house? Ronnie: Five people on the household staff, I
had nothing to do. I may have been happier if I had something to do. It was the
cook’s kitchen, not mine.
FF: Where do
you want to take your career from here? Ronnie: Up and up and up and up and up. I
don’t care as long as it goes up, not down.
FF: At the
beginning, you’re probably going to have people coming up to see Veronica of
the Ronettes, before they’ll be coming to see Ronnie Spector. Ronnie: At the beginning, I had to say Ronnie
of the Ronettes. Now it’s just Ronnie Spector. I guess it’s because of
Springsteen and the Jukes tours. They never said, “Here’s Ronnie of the
Ronettes.” They always said, “Here’s Ronnie Spector.” So, people know me as
just Ronnie Spector, which I’m thrilled about.
FF: How do you
feel about – if you’ll pardon the expression – a has-been making a comeback? [Note:
I cringe at this question now, and humbly apologize to Ronnie – Ed., 2022] Ronnie: I don’t think I ever was a has-been,
‘cause I left at the peak of my career ... I just feel very excited about it,
and that’s all I can say. People can speak of the past and the present, but no
one can speak of the future, including myself. I’m not God ... I don’t see why
it can’t work. I never had management before, and now I have management and the
right kind of management. And I have the right producer. When I was with
Cleveland International, they were calling Phil to do my stuff. They were
getting paranoid about it. With Genya, it’s all different now. I got
management, I got a producer, I got an album. I never had an album. Everybody
thought that the album of the Ronettes featuring Veronica was an album, that we
went into the studio. Never had my own personal album. This is very exciting. I
never had management other than Phil, who was husband/manager/everything, so it
wasn’t really what you’d call management.
FF: Then I
take it you’re satisfied with the say Siren came out? Ronnie: Very satisfied. [pause] Take your time. I’ve got
two minutes. [laughs] I’ve been at band rehearsal all day. It’s tiring, but it’s exciting.
Manager: You might be interested to know that Ronnie has an autobiography
coming out, as well as the album.
Ronnie: And also, a movie of my life, playing my own part. I’m playing my own
part, baby! [As far as I can tell,
as of now, no autobiographical film on Ronnie’s life has been released – Ed.,2022.)
Manager: And there’s another album in the works.
Ronnie: We’ve already got five tunes on the second album ... I’ve been secluded
too long. And I like the challenge.
FF: How is the
recording doing on airplay? Manager: We have 52 major stations.
FF: Tell us
more about the film. Ronnie: It’s gonna start, I assume, from the
time I was twelve and all through my marriage and the crisis, till now.
FF: Do you
think you’ll have trouble playing yourself? Ronnie: No. Not if I get Dustin Hoffman, who
I want to play Phil ... He’s so short. So, I don’t know yet. All I do know, is
that the autobiography is coming out first, then the movie. Next week, I’m
meeting with a ghostwriter (Vince Waldron – Ed., 2022).
Manager: The book is being published by Polish Records, as well.
FF: Total
control. Manager: You have to, because this girl is
really a legend. People who were little children at that time, they know her
music.
Ronnie: About a year and half ago, I did a ... tour called “Vaudeville Rock.” The
Ronettes, the Drifters, Eddie Fisher, Donald O’Connor.
FF: I read
that, but I didn’t know you were on that. Ronnie: It was fabulous. People coming
backstage, even the young kids, 19 and 20, saying, “You were fantastic, I loved
the records, I love your songs, I love your voice.” It freaked me out. We had a
dress rehearsal the day before the tour started and Eddie Fisher (d. 2010) and
Donald O’Connor (d. 2003) called my room just to tell me what a fabulous voice
I had. I thought it was such a compliment because from two older people – Eddie
Fisher could be my dad, age-wise ... A lot of groups, most of the Shangri-Las
are, unfortunately, dead. All of the Marvelettes are dead. Frankie Lymon.
FF: I just saw
a video of him at the Ritz. Ronnie: And he’s dead now (d. 1968).
FF: Very dead.
One of the original dead ones. Ronnie: He was my inspiration. What a voice,
huh?
FF: Frankie
Lymon and you were almost, like, synonymous. The voice. Ronnie: My mother was a waitress across the
street from where Frankie Lymon lived. I was 11 years old. He was about 17 or
18, and she asked him if he could come to my birthday party. I was in love with
him. I had never seen a picture of him or anything, but I was in love with the
voice ... “Why Do Fools Fall In Love” would come on the radio and I was moved. He
came to my party and only because my mother was a waitress at the restaurant
where he used to have lunch.
Manager: You know what’s interesting, tell them some of the people that sang
back-up for you because I’ve never seen that in print before.
Ronnie: Leon Russell (d. 2016), Glen Campbell (d. 2017), Herb Albert, Sonny (d.
1998), Cher, I mean I could go on ... It was all the incredible people. There
was Hal Blaine (2019) on drums, there’s Barney Kessel (d. 2004) on guitar. And
Barney Kessel is one of the greatest guitar players in the world. And all these
people were on my album. And I used to wonder with Phil – I mean, these guys
worked their asses off. Leon Russell would come out (of the studio) and his
hands were actually bleeding. I would say, why do they take that from him? Phil
was very strong. But that’s what I liked about him. That’s what made me fall in
love with him. He was so powerful and people would do exactly what he said. But
then I figured it all out as I got older – all those guys were learning. I used
to think, I wouldn’t take this shit from him, I’m not gonna sit here all night
and have bleeding hands, and he would say, “Five minutes for coffee,” and that
was it ... And they would go right back in there, and I wouldn’t have done it
... Bruce Springsteen – Phil inspired him. Vocally, as Frankie Lymon inspired
me, Bruce was inspired by Phil. There are a lot of producers today that Phil
did inspire. He was the first man to attempt to make a record three minutes
long instead of two. He got away with it. He was the first person to put on a
record, “Produced by ... “ Nobody ever did that before.
FF: I think I
even have on “Be My Baby,” “Arranged by Jack Nitzsche.” Ronnie: Jack Nitzsche. Jack “Specs” Nitzsche.
All that. And then after that, everybody started doing that. Phil was first. The
Ronettes were the first to wear short dresses, silted eyes, beaded hair. We
were the first with a lot of things. We were the first girl-group that had only
three girls. Usually, it was four girls or five. We had three girls. Even the
Supremes when they started had four girls.
FF: You did
shows at the Fox with the Shirelles, the Miracles, Little Anthony, Temptations. Ronnie: Stevie Wonder.
FF: When he
was Little Stevie Wonder. Ronnie: Tom Jones.
FF: The
Dovelles. Ronnie: Wayne Newton. I mean, you name it. And
people ask, “Who have you worked with?”, and I always turn around and answer,
“Who haven’t I worked with?” In those days, you had 17 acts. And every act had
a Number One record. It was the single generation. Maybe it cost 15-20 dollars
a ticket, but to get15-16 acts with Number One records ... and I think those
days were great because today you get one act – say Springsteen or Jackson
Browne – and you get one person, one concert for all that money, whereas in our
day, you got 15-16 acts and they hall had Top Ten records ... Tom Jones was on
that show (and) he was so bad that when he had “What’s New Pussycat” out,
Murray (the K) had to hire two girls to put them in little pussycat suits. He
wasn’t good. The audience didn’t accept him then, where they accepted him seven
or eight years later. I worked with everybody.
FF: What’s the
scoop on Murray the K (d. 1982) when he was running the Fox? What was that all
about? Was he in control there, or was he just the M.C.? Ronnie: No, he was (the man). It was, like,
his production ...
Manager: What’s interesting is the fact that her producer, Genya, is not only
involved with the record ...
Ronnie: Genya did the arranging, Genya did everything.
Manager: I’m not only talking about the record. She comes down to all the
rehearsals and makes sure those guys are reproducing the sound that she put on
the records – live.
FF: Now that
we’ve covered the after-Ronettes period, what about the before? Ronnie: Ronnie and the Relatives? We never
really worked with that name ... My mother had seven brothers and seven
sisters, and everybody did something. If it wasn’t a comedian, somebody was an
opera singer; if they weren’t an opera singer, they were the Mills Brothers. I
mean, it went on and on. Three of my aunts were the Andrews Sisters. It was a
show business family. Not professionally, just on the weekends to please
grandma. I had so many cousins my own age, ‘cause my mother had so many sisters
and brothers, and they all had kids at the same time. So, I had, like, 23 first
cousins. We all got together on the weekends and we sang and danced. One of my
aunts was a dancer, she taught us how to dance. Stuff like that.
FF: Ronnie and
the Relatives. Ronnie: Mom shortened it to the Ronettes. And
my mother traveled with us everywhere. Even at the Brooklyn Fox where we didn’t
have to travel – we just came from Manhattan to Brooklyn – my mother was there
at every show, backstage.
FF: Was she a “stage
mother”? Ronnie: No. She wasn’t pushy, she wasn’t
do-this-do-that. She was just there to help us out (and see that) there were
six shoes, three dresses.
Manager: Her mother said she used to sing on the bus when she was three years
old ...
Ronnie: When I was three, people thought I was one, one and a half, ‘cause I
was so tiny. I used to belt it out ... Most people sing in the shower. I sing
anywhere. When I performed our first performance when we got paid, I said,
“They’re giving me money? To sing up there for twenty minutes and dance? It’s
like a party. I love it.” I couldn't believe we were getting paid. For doing
something I would have done for free anyway. I mean, I did the Bruce
Springsteens and the Southside Johnnys and I didn’t get real money.
FF: You didn’t
get paid for it? Ronnie: Not what I call money, no, I didn’t. I
mean, I didn’t come home with anything in the bank. I mean, I had a lot of
food, clothes on the road – no mink coats. And still today, I would do it for
free.
* * *\
Sadly, Ronnie passed away on January 12, 2022, exactly one week after this interview was republished, at age 78.
Currently living in Saskatoon (email at RBF55@msn.com for address). From 1977-88, I used to publish a print version of a music magazine in New York called FFanzeen, which dealt with the wide-ranging independent music scene. I also photographed many bands from the period (and since). Now I write this blog. And the beat goes on.