A Lifetime of the (bad) Entertainment Business

I started listening to the radio when I was 9 or ten years old. On weekends, I would sit on the front steps quietly singing along to the only two radio stations in my area. There were only a few songs that would cause me to switch channels, I enjoyed almost everything I heard. It would be 5 years before I became more interested in particular bands.

I grew up in the era of the teen idol and, even though I loved music, I never had desire to be a star. I’ve probably seen every Elvis movie but, never wanted to be him. I didn’t want to be Mick Jagger, a Beatle or a Beach Boy. I just loved music and liked to sing along. As a child, I first asked for a saxophone for Christmas (influenced by 50’s music?). I received a plastic, six note sax. Not exactly what I had in mind. Around the age of 12, I asked for a guitar. Again, I got plastic. Super upset, I smashed it on a tree. Years later, I was told my parents argued about whether or not I wanted a real guitar. This explains why I didn’t get disciplined. In fairness to them, I hadn’t actually started playing yet. Two years later, Mom put money down on an acoustic guitar. I knew she couldn’t afford it so, I took over the payments. To be continued…

It wasn’t long before the family moved again (always moving). We moved into a three story with a bar below. I’d sit in the kitchen playing and singing for hours, driving my family crazy. I had no dreams or goals, I just really enjoyed it. It was my place of peace during turbulent times. I was still shy in those early days and was embarrassed to find out they could hear me downstairs. Leaving my house one day, a bar patron said, ‘starting to sound good up there’. Oh, shit. After that, I practiced in my 3rd floor bedroom. Around this time, a friend sold me an electric guitar, an amplifier, radio and his entire album collection for $70. I couldn’t play any lead guitar riffs but, I could get marvelous feed back. You could make great, loud noise with G.E. Stratocaster and a Sears Silvertone. I was heavily into CCR, Dylan and early BeeGees at the time and pretty much stayed with the acoustic guitar. I could sing and play that stuff from the books. We’re going into the late Sixties…

Many important life events occurred in those years and the order in which they happened would take quite a bit of research to sort through. It was the era of Vietnam (getting drafted was a concern) and, race riots. Woodstock and Watkins Glen. Teenagers getting in fist fights over political disagreement. The introduction of marijuana and acid to the party scene.

  I attended my first concert, Mitch Ryder and the Detroit Wheels, at RPI field house. Jimi Hendrix played at the former armory two blocks from my house. Me and my cousin were walking by on our way to meet our girlfriends at the Rathskellar. Kenny said; “hear that? That’s Hendrix in there, wanna go in?”Even though we were big fans, we hadn’t started going to concerts, so we kept walking. Big regret. The Mitch Ryder concert was shortly after that.

  Pot was first introduced to me in my own basement. A guy I didn’t know and won’t name, pulled a joint out of his pocket. I barely knew it existed let alone having tried it. The other people in the room were pissed, they threw him out. A few months later in a different part of town, he was chased away. By then, there were a few people I knew who were smoking but, it wasn’t wide spread. As would happen in those days, an article appeared in the Troy High newspaper talking about the dangers of marijuana. Shortly there after, everyone was smoking and selling pot. Speed and acid use was also common in the ensuing years…

Continuing…

I never really liked bars that much, likely because when I lived above one, there were fights and arguments all the time. I preferred partying with friends at home or outside somewhere. It’s not that I didn’t go to bars, it’s just that I went during the day when they were quieter. I brought my guitar with me and once in awhile me another guy would play for beers. It was humorous.

  One day, my mother came home and announced that she and her friend Larry were going into the bar/restaurant business. I thought they were crazy as neither had experience but, it was also exciting. They took a three year lease on a former steakhouse in Clifton Park, NY. At the time, we had been living in Latham, NY. In those days, Clifton Park was much quieter than it is today. The Spotlite Lounge struggled in the first year. I took on the role of the world’s worst bar tender during the day shift. Mr. Personality didn’t talk much to the customers. Never much interested in sports, I had to learn a lot about, football, baseball and golf. That’s what the customers wanted to talk about. Here’s why this bar is so important. My brothers, along with Dave Sagendorf (brother from another mother) eventuality, became the house band…

…Onwards and upwards…

  Mom buys a house (we had been renting) with a garage. A cool place to set up the equipment and jam. I can’t talk about the situation without including the funny part. The garage was next to a funeral home separated by a parking lot. There was a small window facing that direction. Instead of calling us to let us know there was a service, an old man (never identified himself) would come shuffling over to ask us to stop until the people left. We were happy to do so if they would just let us know. For some reason, they never would. The weird thing is; people would be dancing in the lot after service. Ah, the seventies.

 It was at that house where we hade several band configurations, including a guitar army situation (Skynyrd thing) which I can’t imagine enjoying today, from a management standpoint.

  I began writing much more at that house, inspired by a guy I met on a road trip to Daytona Beach. I wish I could remember his name. He was from Pennsylvania (not far) and had some original songs he wanted to record. He showed up at the house, we invited him to stay (in those days we always had company) and recorded his songs on 4 track reel. It was a blast creating guitar parts for his raw material. I was anxious to write my own songs.

  By this point, I had already had good and bad days when it came to the business end of the entertainment industry. It was after a particularly bad experience that I wrote; The Joke’s On Me, which ended up on the album I recorded in the 1990s. I had recorded a version of this song and Let’s Rock and Roll, in studio but, I couldn’t tell you when that was. I did perform both of those songs at JB Scott’s when we opened for The Greg Kihn Band. We recorded live that night, I think I still have it on reel. But, since I don’t have a reel… The Joke’s On Me has been revamped a few times but, I think I prefer the original version.

   Being still rather naive and self taught, I hadn’t yet figured out that most music is derivative. I used to toss out things I wrote just because I realized they reminded me of something I heard before. Sounds like a Beatles song, better forget that. Allman Brothers? toss that. Stones, Doors, CCR. Nope, nope and definitely not. Actually kept the Allman Brothers thing, an instrumental I’ll probably never finish. Ugh, getting more long winded as I go…

If only someone had asked me what the hell was I doing?

We were in our glory during the ‘house band’ years, surrounded by family, friends and people coming to join the party. At the time, clubs wanted bands to sign contracts committing to one area club within a certain radius. Despite this, other club owners were trying to hire us. Occasionally, when the offer was acceptable, we’d take an outside gig. Personally, I was like a child showing off his new toy, very enthusiastic and excited. Playing music that I thoroughly enjoyed and showing off my hard earned skills. I also, ran around the room jumping on tables and chairs and playing behind my back and head. Just being wild and crazy. We didn’t have a leader to speak of, it was just that I did all the singing and, I sang what I liked. These were the days of radio adds. My Mom insisted upon including my name in the ads, embarrassing me to no end.

Not from my early days. I'm still a ham at times.

  Never being that keen on playing dance music, (not a lot of Skynyrd you can dance to), we had to add in a couple of songs for people to dance. Often playing Cocaine by Clapton several times a night. Ridiculous. Eventually, we succumbed to the pressure which led to me losing interest. It was a slow process and things continued for awhile. One day, Dave announced he was leaving the band and getting married. We invited a very talented old friend to join the band but, the chemistry was never the same. The music we played changed a lot too. More dance tunes, less Southern Rock. I was losing some interest in that music after the death of Ronnie Van Zant. There just wasn’t anything new and exciting happening in that genre. Lynyrd Skynyrd remains one of my all time favorite bands. Great songs, great guitar players, great musicians. A part of me died the night I heard about the plane going down.

   We only had a three year lease on the building, we moved across the street to a place with another lease. By this time, the band was on hiatus.

  Photo from the Spot-Lite Lounge: House band days…

Next up: Diversions, Distraction and A Plan Never Implemented.

   I get a call from my friend, Denis. He’s working with a 10 piece show band in Honolulu. A Forties review named: The Lullaby of Swing. He tell’s me they need a ‘sound man’ and that I should take the job. Never having run sound for anyone but myself, and not always ready to believe Denis to be serious, I declined. One day I’m on a 3 way call with the Denis and the show’s Executive Producer, Dick Feeny. Dick insists he really needs someone and he’ll pay my air but, he wants me right away. Throwing caution to the wind, I hoped a flight to Hawaii. I did not bring a guitar.

   I arrived too late on Saturday to catch the show. I did, however get a lei from a 6’ blonde cast member. On Sunday, it was suggested I should record the show from the sound booth. I spent our off day, Monday, listening to the show over and over, asking questions about which musician was doing what. There was a lot of movement on stage and they were using early edition wireless mics. It didn’t help that I was not familiar with the music. Tuesday, I was planning on sitting up front to watch the show. To my surprise, I was asked if I was ready. Seems they had already fired the sound guy they had been using. Baptism of fire. I came to appreciate not only the music but, the concept of doing a show. We worked six nights a week…

 In the early days, the show was doing well on the weekends but, a little slow during the week. On New Year’s Eve everything changed. We had a packed house with special guest Pat Morita and a couple of local celebrities. I even played my insane version of Johnny B. Goode., (which turned the show from failure to success, in my mind). From that night forward, the house was jammed every night. We became the biggest show on the island. On weekends, we did two shows a night often followed by an hour of popular dance music. The show itself clocked a little less than 1 hr 15 minutes.

  Things I learned from working the show: 1. When things go wrong, it is ALWAYS the fault of the ‘sound man’. 2.

When you are in the back of the room (technician booth), you can cause the desired reaction by sticking your hands out the window and clapping. The room will always respond. 3. Audience members enjoy mistakes at least as much or more, than a perfect performance. 4. You can make a lot more money with a solid show than an ordinary 4hr gig. 5. I would not want to perform Big Band but, I enjoy it.

I was so impressed with the show, I wanted to do my own. I came up with the idea of a 60’s review. Think of all the great artists. I wrote many of my thoughts on bar napkins while sitting at my favorite spot, a Waikiki Beach bar called the Shorebird, where I also met Reggie Jackson. When I returned to New York, I transferred those scribbles to a notebook (around here somewhere). It took me a few years to realize a show like that would not be right for me. Still think it’s a worthwhile idea for someone else…

Next up: The Eighties.

The Eighties were a busy time for my personal life. Moved to NYC, then Hawaii and back to Clifton Park all before the summer of ‘82. ‘86 travelled Europe for 17 days, visiting 7 countries. In April of ‘87 I got married and bought my first house. The house was a fixer upper that I tore apart inside and out. Spent the better part of 5 years working on it, including building a two car garage with a music studio on the second floor. Loved having that space.

   Tired of renting, the family brought a bar in Mechanicville, NY. The band came back together as Contraband and we once again, became the house band. We had a lot of fun nights at Paul’s Place with many new faces and friends. The band was doing more danceable material than I personally care for, and I was never that happy with the song choices. However, everyone else was having a blast so, it didn’t matter.

  Now seems like the perfect time to talk about performing. I mentioned earlier that I was enthusiastic (overly?) when playing music I love. Like most musicians, I’m very self conscious when performing. There are people who love performing above all else and it shows. There are also some pretty good fakers. I’m neither. I know what I am supposed to do and I try to entertain the best I am able. No matter the circumstance, I act like I’m enjoying myself. It’s my job.

  Honestly, if performing was my passion, I would have studied the best entertainers, not guitarists. Same is true for singing. I have always enjoyed singing but, I have never once thought of myself as a vocalist/singer. Never liked the sound of my voice (who does?) and never had a passion to spend time improving. I know what a great voice, well trained sounds like. That’s not me. I can do a credible job on songs I relate to…

If only someone had asked me what the hell was I doing?

Being fun and silly with Dave Philips.

Sometime around 1991 I became very tired of the bar band thing. I had performed in every situation from solo to six piece band. Played side man, too. The side man gig is more enjoyable when it comes to playing covers because I’m not responsible for selling the songs. It’s always been far easier for me to ‘sell’ something I believe in. There aren’t that many working bands who play whatever they want and often, it’s a case of longevity. I suppose I could have had longevity if I stayed with Southern Rock. 40 yrs later, there are still people upset with me over it.

   I still loved music, just not the constant pressure to bring my fans to a club. They could spend a small fortune of which the band would receive a fraction. Still doesn’t make sense.

   Meanwhile, I had built my studio. It wasn’t a full blown recording studio though it had those capabilities. It was built to accommodate my dream of having a space for my fellow musicians to play, complete with a full band set up. It was also my escape from disturbing others with my noise.

   I decided to use this time to learn, on guitar, songs I never had time or place for in bands. It was difficult material and, it took the better part of six months to master. Anxious to play the material with others, I called a couple of past band mates. There was no intention of a band, it was strictly for fun. At first it was twice a month, but we were enjoying it so much it turned into a weekly get together. A total of 17 songs, some requiring several weeks to master..

Nineties continue…

Yep, after a few very successful gigs, the bug took hold again. That’s the problem with taking some time off. “You forget about the losses, you exaggerate the wins” - The Road, Daniel O’Keefe. Problems arose immediately. Number one, we had no plans. Number two, we needed to nearly triple our song list. It was an impossible task if we wanted to maintain the original concept. We tried but, ended up with a mishmash that was far removed.

   One of the guys dropped out, couldn’t blame him, we weren’t supposed to perform. Because we had obligations, we attempted to replace him. It was rough and I decided to discontinue booking for the time being. We had been jamming on my original music for a while so, it was an easy move to start work on an album. People still bought collections.

   Unfortunately, I was under a lot of pressure to get the album done and out the door. If ever I should have resisted… The end product was a poorly recorded, mixed bag of tunes. Though I was unhappy with the album, I was proud of the work we put into it.

    I honestly don’t know what the hell I was thinking during that period. That’s just it, I wasn’t. The Robert Noah (non) band went back to performing (juggling, sword swallowing, etc). The line up and number of musicians changed often. No bar would hire a band to play originals so, we’d just sneak them in unannounced. The song list was now far removed from those happy studio days. I became disgusted with the whole thing and went solo…

  Performing alone was a really, really bad idea. To say I hated it would be a gross understatement. I didn’t like anything about it except the money. As money has never been a big motivator when it comes to music, it didn’t make me feel any better. Having no one to share laughs with is the worst. I was playing twice a day, several days a week and rarely enjoyed myself.

  Playing mostly in tourist traps was partially responsible for the way I felt. You see, when I played solo years before, it was mostly in college towns where, I could get away with playing B sides and album cuts. Tourists just want to hear the most popular songs which, isn’t my thing. If I played anything that wasn’t on the radio a hundred times a day, I’d get blank stares. To amuse myself, I would massacre the super cliche songs just to see the reaction. Brown Eyed Girl, Margaritaville, I could change the words, play the wrong chords, sing out of key. It didn’t matter. Just about everyone would applaud. It was ridiculous to me. I lasted a year doing that. The following January, I cancelled six months of gigs and swore to never play solo in a tourist town for the rest of my life. I swore off Lake George because of it. That lasted several years…If only someone had asked me what the hell was I doing?

On and on I go.

     It was back to doing pick up gigs, which as I mentioned are fun, low responsibility affairs. I didn’t have to do much singing or rehearsal. Just give me a song list, preferably with keys and, let me know when you want me to dazzle the crowd with my amazing guitar skills. Easy money. If only there was more of it.

  It was in one of these situations where I met a drummer who told me of a band that was looking for a guitarist/singer. When I was told it was a wedding/party band I said no way. I ended up calling the band a month later for financial reasons, I had heard there was better pay involved.

 Next up: New Century, Same Old Bob

  I make the call to one Cyndie Wade who, had only joined the band a short while ago. She give me a partial list over the phone and tells me which songs to audition with. I knew a few of those and nothing of the rest of the list. I went to three auditions before I found out I was in. Two of the guys had been working together for years and one gave me the rundown of the situation. He sold me on the band.

  Most of the material was foreign to me, having never even heard most of it. We worked hard and had many rehearsals before our first booking. Now, I had been told that the band was knowledgeable about what people wanted to hear. Unfortunately, I realized that was an exaggeration to be kind about it. I was not happy and immediately, gave notice. I felt I had been hoodwinked.

   I was persuaded by Cyndie to come back but, only after we agreed that she and I would also perform as a duo. 25 years later, we are still working together.

Standing Room Only was pretty good, if I do say so myself, at the wedding/corporate party thing. Cyndie aka Cyd, unlike myself, loves to entertain and, is a great Host/MC, as well as a very talented vocalist. For my part, I was terribly uncomfortable in my tuxedo, singing songs I had no business singing. The band was very accommodating and was invited to play the same corporate parties year after year. Cyd and I still play some of them as the duo, Spellbound.

Spellbound having a ball with friends at The Georgian

  While SRO did do club work, it wasn’t our forte. I’m not going to spend much time on the subject. One thing I feel compelled to mention is typical of musicians. At a casual meeting we discovered that not one of really enjoyed playing weddings. Hilarious.

  Spellbound performs often, for years playing as many as five days a week. For a time, we played seven shows a week, performing twice on Friday and Saturday. We still perform five shows, three days a week, only less often. Spellbound has changed a lot over the years. For the better part of our existence, we performed ‘live’ only. Now, we perform a combination of live and with backing tracks. I have my own feelings about each but, that’s irrelevant.

Spellbound @ the Emmy's

We’re getting close to the point…

Here I am at 72 years of age still plugging away and, finally fulfilling one of my ancient goals, recording and releasing songs I’ve written over the last 50 years. There aren’t that many (there’s enough) because I spent enormous amounts of time covering songs by other artists. Performing in so many bands with different styles is great for improving my craft but, not so great for time management. Today, I can be more devoted to writing as I won’t be spending time on covers, unless a song really hits me. It still happens.

  I’m not a quitter. I can’t not finish something I started even if it takes my last breath. It’s kinda silly. I’ll finish reading a book or watching a movie even if it terrible. I’ll spend crazy amounts of time repairing something that can be easily replaced. It’s a flaw of sorts though it has its own rewards.

  So, what is the other goal? Could be more of a dream. Putting together a band to perform original music and a few well chosen covers. In other words, finishing what I started…