Not too keen on exact dates and times or events, I think we got turned down by a couple but when we
walked into Paris Records and sang our songs for Jack Gold and Barbara (The secretary). We got excited
about their reaction. They had just had a big hit with "See You in September" and were optimistic about
life in general, it seemed. Soon we were in a session doing what we really loved. We got in on the tailend
of a Nelson Riddle orchestra session and got to use the Anita Kerr singers on one song
(Beautiful One). Mundel Lowe did the lead work on "Bayou Rock" and some others. We were walking on air.
All recording sessions start out with high hopes and optimistic attitudes.
"Man, this is gonna be really something!"
Then came the waiting part ... how long tail it is out? ... months.
Br>
You try to remember the details of the session and how it sounded. Of course nowadays you can get a
dub of your song and take it home to listen to anytime. Not in those days! ... it was wait, wait, wait!
Well, it finally arrives and you hear it played on the local station. Folks smile at you and want to
talk about your new record. It is a pretty hot topic in your home town but how about Philly or Kansas City?
Wayne and had trained our way back south with a contract in hand and some cut records in the can at
Paris Records. In the days that followed we had a considerable amount of action on Boys Do Cry and
were hoping for good times ahead. The good news never came.
BY golly, I'll show 'em! (Sometime in '60)... I joined the Air Force! That'll fix 'em, by Ned!
As I got up at 4:30 am at Lackland AFB, Texas I thought about how they were really hurtin' now! Boy,
I had 'em where I wanted 'em! I'll get away from that dirty rotten bidness (That's what they call it here}.
I was gettin' my licks in left and right and I could tell they were hurt by the way they didn't write!
Stationed in Spain, I wrote Dad to send my Strat and Deluxe. He did and soon I was playing again
down at the Airmen's Club. We took our GI band down to Madrid's Record Company "Hispavox" and cut a
demo. The Engineer called the president and told him about us. They signed us up and ...
There it was all over again ... hoping, writing and wishing ... Man! You can never get away from it!
I just turned 65 and just so happened to have a neat little 8-track outfit right here in my house!.
I've got some fresh new stuff that just might kick a little you-know-what out there ... what goes round
comes round, you know!
Good Grief!
Joe
Sparkletones@msn.com
February, 2005
A Mill-Hill Boy's Musical Impact
Lawson's fork creek runs through the little village of Glendale here in the foothills
of South Carolina. It used to power the cotton mill which was the reason folks lived here
... to have a job. The textile industry flourished here among the rivers and creeks where dams
could be built. Mill houses dotted the lush green hillsides along the rivers and families
were raised beside fireplaces and woodstoves.
My great-grandfather on my Mom's side came over from Ireland and settled in
Glendale where he fell in love, got married and raised a family. The majority of jobs
were either textile or farm related. Here they grew cotton, turned it into thread and
milled it into cloth.
There was and still is a certain "Feeling" between the gentry and the mill-hill
people who were also called "Lint-heads"...a putdown for sure. The mill workers were
humble, loyal and kind people. Mother was from a mill-hill family, Dad a farmer
who once worked in Glendale mill where he met my mom (Thank goodness).
In the very early years electricity and radios were not common much less telephones.
I am 65 and remember when we got our first phone. The fact that these conveniences
were not available caused people to talk at the table or around the fireplace ... relating
stories of the old days or just "philosophizing" about the current events or ... listening
to some picking and singing. People want to know why so much musical history is connected
to the cotton mill culture ... well, there you have it. It was kind of a big deal
if someone had a guitar, banjo or mandolin and could play it. Not many could afford private
lessons on instruments so it was a tradition to teach the kids who wanted to learn in the
family ... a pass-it-on thing. That is why, to this day, there are so many musicians in
this area ... you can trace most of them back through the mill villages here and in
other parts of the country.
Out of this background came a mill-hill boy who played hookey to stay home from school
so he could practice his guitar. He bugged Mr. Fowler to show him more chords and licks.
Mr. Fowler would say,"Boy! You had better get back to school." He had a knack and he
knew it. In the late 40's a country band from Tennessee came through Spartanburg
and this kid went to the theater looking for a job. He was 15. The band was
reluctant to even listen to him play because of his age but he persisted and
they let him unpack and play backstage. He blew them away and they said if his mom
and dad would sign that he had their permission to go with them, it would be OK.
The rest is history.
His name was Hank Garland ... one of the greatest modern guitarists ... from Jazz to Country
he did it all ... raised right here in a mill village. You know those little kickin'
licks on Jingle Bell Rock? Hank Garland ... How about "Little Sister" by Elvis?. Hank again and
again ... he backed up the best 'cause he was the best. He could come up with hooks that
would blow your hat in the river! His picking skills and speed were phenomenal.
Hank died recently in Florida after a long battle with strokes. He came by to see me
about 3 years ago at the store. We sat down and I handed him my old Squire and he hit
a lick or two. What a feeling to be in the presence of a living legend! You see, Hank
was our idol around here in those old days and once you entered THAT arena you never
got rid of that good ol' feeling ... mill-hill boy made good!
So, go ahead ... call me a lint-head with mill-hill mentality ... see if I care ... but I'll
bet YOU never sat down knee-to-knee with Hank Garland!
Rockabilly was born in part from that mill-hill culture. Marriages were made,
families raised and happiness inspired by the sounds of strings and harmonies wafting
across the green valleys of the Carolinas at twilight ... like grandma's apple pies.
My sincere condolences and sympathies go out to Hank's family.
We hope to see ya'll n Rye, England the 2nd week in March or Green Bay in mid-April ...
Keep Kool,
Joe
January, 2005
Playing Outside of the Dots
Happy New Year to all ... hope the Holidays went well for everyone. Sorry 'bout December ... not
enough time to spit!
Eddie Davis was a friend of mine down here in the Cowpens, Glendale, Clifton, Converse,
Cannon's Campground area of South Carolina. He was a jolly boy,if ever there was one, who
liked a good laugh and was very creative in the humor department. He was generous in
bodily proportions weighing in at well over 2oo lbs. He had a Gretsch White Falcon
which was his pride and joy and played at that level ... he deserved a Gretsch White Falcon!
He had that handy-dandy little gift called "Double-jointed finger-tips" which allowed him
to easily make chords that we lesser mortals had to struggle with.
We practiced together each Saturday and rotated from his house to mine.
Sometimes our Moms would make a cake for us to snack on and after the initial
mixing was done, we each were handed a spoon to clean that bowl! ... mmm ... mmm ... mmm! But,
they always left SO LITTLE! One day we decided we were tired of getting short changed
in that the bowl never provided enough cake batter to suit our needs! So ... we pooled our
financial resources and went shopping at Sam's store upon the hill for a box of Yellow Cake Mix.
Having completed our mission, we dashed back home and proceeded to read instructions on
the box and whip up a cake batter extraordinaire! I am convinced to this day that
it would have been a great cake if we had only cooked it!
Mom said," I wouldn't do that boys!" Why didn't we listen? Why?
We hoisted giant spoonfuls of that heavenly batter to our mouths and sat there
like pigs in chairs occasionally giving a soft grunt of satisfaction not caring what
was going on in the rest of the world...totally forgetting about minor pentatonics
or diminished chords.
The soft grunts of delight soon changed to soft moans of misery. The "Rising"
characteristic of the batter soon took effect in our stomachs and I think the
term "Bloated" is appropriate when describing our condition.
Now this just goes to show how musicians are willing to experiment or play around
outside of the dots. Sure, pain and misery accompany the process at times but oh,
how sweet it is when you get it right. If we had settled for a couple of healthy
spoonfuls and baked the rest, it would have a been a totally successful operation.
But NO! Don't fence us in and limit us to a reasonable amount! We little
piggie-wiggies want it all! NOW!
Did you ever find a sweet lick that you just played over and over ... maybe tried some
variations on it ... and every time you jammed you played that lick just because it
sounded good to you?
Every time you picked up you axe you played that lick first thing. "Uh-oh! Here comes
old Hot Lick (Singular) Joe." I remember when I picked up a Danny Gatton lick
... it sounded kind of jazzy and I thought it was hot ... someone said,"You played that
lick at least 4 times last set!"
Me."Did not!"
He, "Did Too!"
All 3 other guys."Did too!."
You get the picture.
Too much of a good thing can bloat up your jammin' ... right? We all know how hard it is
to make each lead break sound different. If we know all our scales perfectly we can put
the listener on a real roller-coaster ride ... low to high, change the phrasing, find new
intervals.
How dull it would be to ride a coaster on a level track with no ups and downs
(Whole bowl of batter).
That cake would have been better with a couple of spoonfuls of raw,
then bake some cup cakes or a layer cake and add a little frosting! Oh, Yeah!
Same with jammin' ... take flight! ... go for the cupcakes with frosting!
The Tones are going to England to perform on Mar. 11 and then to Green Bay, Wis. on
Apr. 16th ... hope ya'll can make it!
Joe B
sparkletones@msn.com or
sparkletonesjoe@yahoo.com
November, 2004
My Rockabilly Roots
Cousin Bud's radio show came on around 4:30-5:00 PM on weekdays ... he would catch the
goin' home traffic ... his name was and is Grover Golightly.
Our little kid band played on his show about once or twice a month. We played those
country songs as right as we knew how and I believe they were mostly correct.
In those days you didn't hear too many diminished or augmented chords in country so G,
C, D7 with a A7 in the bridge would usually get the job done.
Somehow the music was more melodic then ... simple tunes you could whistle or hum
with simple chords and you could always tell one song from another! ... which, to
tell the truth, was pretty amazing since there are only 8 notes plus accidentals
in the scales! How many different combinations of these notes are there?
Those were lazy, hazy, crazy summer days of youth for us. In my personal case,
that was the true rockabilly roots time when I could consider all the musical
and rythmic things going on around me ... easy to do with no bills to pay ... right?
My environment had lots of music in it. Mother was a pianist and teacher and at 92
can still tickle those ivories. I am so proud of her.
My Dad could "Ham-bone" up a storm ... I mean he had rythym and could convey it
by the thigh-slappin', chest pattin' patterns he played when he ham-boned. I learned
how by watching him and trying to immulate the syncopated beats ... something akin to a
marching band drum cadence with a funky little kick to it ... dropping those bass drum
beats in wierd places ... like Carver High School Band here in Spartanburg at
Christmas parade time. Man, they were great! If you could keep from patting your foot
when they came by you had to be dead!
Another element of my rockabilly roots was on a UNC public TV show I saw today
called " Carolina Calling" ... My friend Arthur Smith and his son Clay were entertaining.
I always watched his show, "Arthur Smith and The Crackerjacks",in the 50's after
school every day on WBTV in Charlotte ... couldn't wait to get home ... probably age 10-11.
They were super entertainers with comedy, tons of instrumentals with Arthur just taking
flight on "Fingers on Fire" or "Dill Pickle Rag" and always good vocalists
and harmonies ... no drums.
I once again have to mention the gospel quartets which were, and still are, very prominent
in this neck of the woods ... there again you have the syncopated patterns and harmony
which, when exposed to a child, paints an indelible sound-garden in his mind of happy,
melodic, rythmic sounds.
When I think back over the ingredients poured into my bowl of impressions,
it is as if I can almost remember the first day our Sparkletones band practiced ...
my house, in winter ... sometime around '55-'56 ... Sparkie was aboiut 10 or 11,
Wayne, Jim and I 15-16 ... awkward and shy about playing but in the end extremely
excited about the two or three songs we worked up. I thought," Man at the stuff
we can do later! ... Hank Williams with a beat ... Carver High with a country feel ...
Bayou Rock with a ham-bone touch! Hey, throw in a Arthur Smith lick and just rock on out!
We all have a bowl of ingredients. So, pour it out, mix it up and serve it up YOUR way, Man!
Ol' Black Slacks.
October, 2004
Sharing a Secret
If you ever shake my hand it may feel a little strange ... but because I have had about 60
years practice at covering it up, you may NOT notice anything different ... the little finger
on my right hand is deformed. No, it doesn't affect my playing but it has given me some
interesting experiences.
The Air Force, for example.
One day while in basic training I was walking along from the BX to the barracks when around
the corner came a brand new, young 2nd Louie ... bright shiney brass and all! I popped a snappy
salute, bent finger and all, and he popped a snappy salute ... then I saw his eyebrows fly up
into his hairline!
"Hey, airman!," spouts he ... "what kind of a salute was that?" and he chewed and chewed and
chewed ... after the dissertation was over with, I says,"Sorry sir, I have a deformed finger."
Well sir, his jaw dropped like the trap door on grandpa's long johns! He was really
embarrassed so he said, " At ease", said something about ... "sorry" and then walked off. I
felt sorry for him too.
The kids at school knew about it. Since everfyone here had a nickname, mine was "Nubbie"
because of that little finger. To this day they still say,"Hey, Nubbie! How's it going?"
My mom used to teach piano and she kind of wanted me to play one. Since we had one for me
to practice on, she took me to Mrs. Hottel in Glendale for a lesson ... little red book ...
"Thompson's" I believe. She felt like someone other than Mom would work better but the little
finger was going to be a problem ... that ended my piano career ... I always felt like the Good
Lord didn't want me to be a piano player but I can still bang out some chords ala Mr Gilley.
Once in California I was invited to join a Ouija board game but my little finger would not
extend far enough for a connect ... so I was out (Thank Goodness!).
Anyway, I was crazy bout music so Mom found Uncle Lawrence's old Gibson up in Aunt Lottie's
attic, tuned it up and showed my 4 chords ... G, C, D7 and A7 and that launched my musical
career. I couldn't put it down. Dad said he would buy me any guitar if I finished the Gibson
course for guitar taught by Mr. Fowler. I did and He did and I had a new Strat (Circa 1956) so
I proceeded to copy all the Les Paul runs I could pick out and set my goal to be as fast as
HE was! ... little did I know that he recorded slow and played back fast to get that effect! ...
I kept on plugging away ... old dummy me! Broke my heart when I found out!
Back when I was 17-18, I could pretty well smoke a guitar, I guess.
Folks used to tell me how good I was (They had never heard any REAL good ones) and
I would be tempted to start believing all that stuff ... then, I would notice my little finger.
As I checked it over, it reminded me just how human I was ... it kept me from getting "Upitty".
Now, most of you aren't lucky enough to have one of these things so I have to forewarn you ...
don't EVER believe your own publicity! It could be a long, slow, mind-blowing slide to the bottom.
Remember, we are all JUST humans who are on this space ship together...all of equal value...
Well, you could always IMAGINE you had one!
What a great treat for me this past week ... I got to swap E-mails with Albert Lee my guitar
hero. We might get to hook up with him in March at Rye ... I sincerely hope so ... what a killer
player he is ... thanks Albert!
Here's hopin' you have Good Rockin"...
Joe
September, 2004
The story ... a song for every mood
His arms were the size of a broomstick ... holes in the knees of his pants at times.
At about 10 or 11 he was just the right size to be bullied by the "Big Boys" ... and some did it.
His dad was killed in the attack on Pearl Harbor ... his uncles and other relatives were all
he had except for his buddies. He was one of my best buddies and kind of a hero to me.
You see, Ned had other ways of being big and kicking sand in the bullies faces.
He was deadly with a toy (A special marble that you used for shooting). His pants pockets
were always full of marbles ... OUR marbles! He could knock your hat in the river with
that "Toy" of his. Some of the big boys thought they could take him so they brought their
bag of treasure down to the McKinny's house where we drew a good sized circle in the sand
and everyone ante'd up ... I believe it was 10 each ... to get in the game.
One thing you should know is that "Playing for keeps" was generally forbidden by most parents
in Cannons Campground ... too much like real gambling. Most all of these marble games were
on the sly.
When Ned's shot came, he cleaned the circle and went home.
No one ... I repeat no one could beat Ned. Everyone wanted to be his friend because
of his unusual skill shooting marbles. He was a really neat kid.
Ned grew older but, by gum, he never did put on weight ... just grew tall.
He outgrew marbles and grew interested in baseball through some uncles and one
day he discovered he could throw a baseball so fast it looked like the size an
aspirin! He would throw it at your head, you would step in the water bucket trying
to get outta the way, and the ball would curve over the plate for a strike!
"I'll bet I can hit him," said the big boys.
Well, they got their chance. Ned whiffed every last one of them! He would flat-out embarrass you,
that kid ... with the skinny arms and lack of physique. He was the hero of many-a-kid ... like me.
Ned could sing a pretty mean song when he took a notion. At times he would come down to the
jamboree and sing one or two with the band. I paid him to run my snowball stand.
A lot of us guys who weren't athletes took a different direction ... our strengths were in
other areas ... some mechanics, musicians, artists ... one is now a recognized brain surgeon.
Our life experiences form and shape the music we play. We write and sing about times of our
lives ... good and bad. If we don't, we had better change. A good story is what everyone wants
to hear or see. Why do folks go to movies? To see a story. Why do they read books or
newspapers?. The story, man! The story!
The stories of people like Ned effects the songs I write and sing. You see, I don't know
anything else, only what I've seen and experienced in my life.
I believe that there is a melody for every story ... a beat to every situation. ... a riff for every
scene ... a song for every mood.
True rockabilly music is genuine and raw ... full of life's experiences with a back-beat.
The simpler the better.
You've got a pocket full of life's tales that you need to throw in the ring ... wear the
knees outta your pants hustling up a tune created by you ... get your toy out and give it a shot!
We are looking forward to another trip to England in March then on to Green Bay for a rockin'
time on April 15th ... I still can't believe us old dudes are still getting the chance
to Rock and Roll with friends and fans of the fifties music. It is such a blast for us ...
it should be against the law.
Thanks for kind words and sincere encouragement. Have a great September!
Joe
August, 2004
The Producer
The producer is a VIP ... at least it sounds like he/she is ... Producer ... yep sounds mighty
important. In the old days (50's) we always called them the "A&R Man" ... stands for artists
and repertoire.
A good one will let you use your own ideas and creativity in a session ... he will
generally sit back behind the glass and let HIS creative juices flow in a very
gentle and diplomatic way ... "Let's change the hook slightly ... maybe more mid-range ...
what do you think?" ... suggestions like that. And he asks for your opinion.
Not to say anything bad about any personnel involved in our old sessions, but man! ... what
I would have given to have Don Costa on ALL of our sessions! ... he did "Diana" with Mr.
Anka one night and our's the next over at Bell Sound in NYC. He did Goerge the 4th's stuff and I
remember there was one little progression he used in "Why Don't They Understand?" ... and I
would bug the daylights out of him to show me ... finally exasperated, we paused in the
session and he showed me those moves. Don was the greatest. He made a couple of recordings
on his own as Muvva Guitar Hubbard ... (Raunchy) ... later was the conductor for Mr. Sinatra's
orchestra plus I don't know how many more great things he did.
We were goofing around in the studio while the engineer set the levels and someone blurted
out ... "B-B-B-'B ... Black Slacks" and he heard it ... "Hey, what was that?" he asked and
you know the rest.
He acted like one of the boys laughing and cutting up ... he knew how to put us at ease ...
Of course, we, being country boys, didn't have too many concerns anyway ... we didn't feel
that much pressure! We didn't know any better! I was so laid back I left my Strat at the CBS
studio after the first Sullivan show! They sent it to me in S.C. on a Greyhound bus.
I heard someone say the other day that a good producer would cost in the vicinity of $50,000
just for starters ... and that doesn't come with a guarantee that it's gonna "Hit" either.
A good producer uses the strengths and minimizes the weaknesses of a group/soloist.
He figures out ways to make you sound like star materiel. He looks for hooks and gimmicks,
punches , licks and kicks. He is the fairy godmother and with a wave of his wand he makes
the magic happen.
As Chet once said,"It is now possible to make the PERFECT recording ... a vowel from track 42,
a word from track 16 patched in, the lead lick from track 26 ..." You get the picture.
Well, now, that's going too far! I mean, come on! ... let's not get so sterile that it
doesn't have character! How about a little flaw here and there? We are only HUMAN you know ...
we need to let that show through!
And don't load it up with violins and sopranos in the back ground! We are talking
Rockabilly here! Down-home, foot-stompin', big-beat, back-beat music with a glitch or
two (Human or otherwise). Come on! If you correct every little thing it is like too much
sugar in your java!
Now, Old Don C. wouldn't do that ... he'd leave a little rough edge or two ... he knew that
rockabilly is maverick music ... not pure bred.
If you don't believe it, listen to the thumps I made on the leads in some of our old stuff ...
including 'Slacks".
Rockabilly is the best! IT is good old raw, unadulterated, fun music that is nice and
uncomplicated ... and it won't give you a headache to listen to it!
Hold it in the road ...
Joe
July, 2004
Summer Nights
Remember those hot summer nights? ... when the days seemed like they would never end and turn to dark? ...
when the mystery of the night settled in and it brought fresh courage with it ... courage to call HER up?
(What you didn't know was that SHE was a shy as you were).
You did it! Finger in the spin-dial, the whirr of the phone as it gobbled up those numbers ... Man!
That thing spins too fast ... I need time to think! What if her DAD answers? ... oh, man! I'm not up to this!
I CAN'T DO IT! Slam! I'll do the next best thing!
In our town there was a drive-in restaurant called "The Steeple "where everyone went at night to
socialize and listen to the music amidst the sounds of the city ...
SH-H-H-H of airbrakes, beep-honk of horns, ba-lop, ba-lop of those muscle cars dragging through the
drive-in and away in the background a DeeJay dedicating songs for the chicken-hearted
big-boys ... "And here is "Dream Lover " dedicated to Norma from Billy, to Sally from Robert" ... and on and on
...
You can almost smell those hotdogs (Chili and onions we called 'all the way') and see the
pegged pants and rolled-up Bobbie Sox, hair combed back with the help of Vaseline or Suave,
some couples smoochin' in a car. It was a simpler time ... believe me.
On top of the Steeple's main building was a small glass booth where the DeeJay broadcast originated.
You could go inside the main restaurant and make your call (for a dime) to the Deejay and make your
request. What!? ME? Talk to the Deejay?!
"Could you play 'I Want You, I need You, I love you' from Danny to Joyce?" Now she'll know how I really feel!
Next day everyone says, "Heard that dedication last night ... Joyce heard it too!" ... OH NO!!
How could I do such a stupid thing ... now she KNOWS!
Joyce and Danny got married, had a large family and lived happily ever after ... with a little help from
THE Rockabilly.
Our sock hops were good matchmakers too. But, to tell the truth, if it weren't for Ladie's
Choices, they wouldn't have been so successful. One of the greatest inventions ever was the Ladies' Choice
dance. What a great feeling when your band started playing "Sleep Walk" or "One Night With You "
and the crowd rushed to the dance floor and the words you sang were the words they wanted to say to each other.
Yeah, you can't disregard the powerful influence the music had/has on us all.
Want to spice up things around your house? ... how about a call to the Deejay and have him play your wife's
favorite old song and dedicate it to her ... then make sure she's listening . You'll learn just how powerful
lyrics set to music REALLY is!
Rockabilly has to be included in the story of marriages made by music. Even the fast movers with non-sense
lyrics had an effect mostly because of the beat and familiar little hooks that went with the songs.
It was like a secret code that went among the teens and fans ... a little something that tied us together
as a separate family.
Hey! Don't know how to sweet talk your chick?
Put on Bobby Helms' "You Are My Special Angel" and give Sweetie Pie a turn around the dining room ...
he'll take care of it for you!
Keep on rockin', Cats!
Joe
Sparkletonesjoe@yahoo.com
June, 2004
John D. Brooks
John D. Brooks was home from the army and he had picked up a ton of licks ... on drums. He naturally fell
in with some of his old buds and they started a group. Practice was held down on the Drayton Mill Hill
at John's grandpa's house and various folks would stop by to listen.
A little red-headed boy was constantly watching' John D. When everyone else left he was still
there talking to John, asking questions and maybe even getting a tap in on the snare drum. If he
maneuvered himself around just right, maybe a punch on the bass drum. John D. was his hero.
His name was, and is, Paul Riddle of the Marshall Tucker Band...one of the finest drummers
anywhere, who came up with licks and kicks that were outta this world.
John D. moved on to various other local groups, started playing guitar and bass.
He came by the store the other day and we reminisced a little about the old days. John D. is
one of my all-time favorite drummers. He did a gig with us at an Old 50's thing years ago ...
Bo Diddly was there ... he told me, "I want that drummer." Ol' John wouldn't go
though. He had a family to raise.
He had the wildest foot I ever saw. He would put bombs in the craziest places ... I mean down-right nasty.
It made you want to go take a shower. He played with authority and when he played, HE was the drummer
YOU marched to. Don't get me wrong...not a loud banger but when he meant to "stick it" you knew it.
He would just pull you outta your seat and give you the "Have to's" and the "Can't help its" ... you just
had to dance!
It is hard to get that effect from an instrument you can't play a "G" chord on!
In those days, everyone copied and played like John D.
How is it that one guy can have that much influence on others? What causes us to say,
"I want to be like him(Or her)." ?
John D. is a quiet man not given to loud laughter or boisterous behavior but man is he
assertive behind a set of drums!
Well, I guess you know by now that here stands a real John D. Brooks fan ... dyed-in-the-wool!
We guitar players have our own Clayton DeLaneys and I am sure that all instrumentalists have one who
stands out to them.
There is one thing about music people which I like ... they are usually very generous with
compliments and encouragement. An arm around the shoulder with, "Man, that was great!" does wonders
for someone who is getting started or struggling with those times when his "Putter just isn't working today".
We are getting all geared up for summer ... new kids and adults coming in for lessons. It is always
exciting to see their faces when they walk in with a acoustic guitar (Usually), a notebook and a fistful
of picks. They can't believe I have pictures of Smarty Jones on my wall! "Do you bet on horses?" they
ask. "Heck No" says I..."Just like horses!"...it kind of relaxes them.
I explain the guitar and how to read chord charts and we finally get through "The Cats in The
Cradle" and a pick drill ... basic first lesson. Then out they go with their dreams and hopes.
They are very fragile and vulnerable at that point. It sure helps to have someone like
John D. in the mix to tell them that they can do it ... like John D. told that little red-headed boy.
Drop a line to: Sparkletonesjoe@yahoo.com (New)
Ya'll have a good 'un!
Joe
May, 2004
The once-in-a-lifetime pick
I think I found it on the floor at the music store. Someone probably dropped it while reaching
for their car keys. Anyway, there it was in my hand as a gift that came from heaven. It had a small
round hole in the middle with a very thin layer of cork around the hole...I'd say about a light
medium...you've seen 'em.
I stuck that little booger in my pocket with the remainder of my collection and upon arrival
at the homestead, I proceeded to uncase the old Strat and see how it worked.
That pick almost played by it's self...I mean, it was magic! It fit better than a glove and was
just perfect for pickin', strummin' and boogie-bars!
Back to the store only to find that they didn,t sell that kind...every store in town didn't
have those picks!..I mean, there was only ONE in the world.
Well, sir, that pick made the rounds...for about 6 months...it never offered to split or break. The cork
did start to wear off slightly but, hey!...it still was the best pick in the world. When we went on stage
(Me and that pick), we had great confidence...we could do anything!...look out folks!...here comes a stream of 16th chromatics! Dig those down/up strokes...how about a couple of ruffs to enhance that run. Man! That baby could do it all!
I always checked my pockets when going ANYWHERE! There it was! That little rim of cork in the middle...I
could feel it in my pocket and always checked every 5 minutes or so just to make sure.
Then one morning, it happened. I reached for my little plastic security blanket, my pacifier,
my Rock of Gibraltar...my special Heaven-made pick and...!!! It felt like a bowling ball in the
gut!.. A low blow from Muhammad Ali!..A kick in the face from Secretariat!..Not there!...NO
WHERE! Did you hear me!? It was NO WHERE to be found! Down to the car...check in the cracks!...under
the seat..(What a mess there!)...down to the Chicken Shack where we played last night! Yeah!
Of course it was...NOT ON THE STAGE! "No!..I am NOT crying!!
The community search and rescue team helped out that Ne'er-to-be-forgotten afternoon but to no
avail. GONE! My heart was broken and I was scared to pick...I mean those other peaces of plastic
weren't picks! They were medium, light or heavy GARBAGE!...scraps from some toy factory or something.
Over the years I learned to get by with other picks but by Ned, it was tough. I'll bet some kid found
that thing laying on the sidewalk, took it home and just "Tore it up" on his guitar. Now it was
his turn with the magic pick.
Funny thing happened the other day. I was looking through the trays at the music store and there
they were!...those magnificent picks with a hole with cork around it !..Oh, Man! I couldn't believe it...grab
that Takemine of the wall...here goes!...
Dogone, it feels like a piece of plywood!..I can't do ANYTHING with this pick!...Pick?
Did someone call this a PICK?!
Boy, they sure don't make 'em like they used to!
New E-mail: Sparkletones@msn.com...sure would like to hear from you guys...
Thanks, Joe
July, 2003
On Stage = Medicine
Just drove in from Dallas to El Paso. The fever must
have been 103 or more and and the first of 2 shows
would be starting in a couple of hours. The sore
throat didn't help any. It was one of those times you
just wanted the world to go away and leave you alone
for a while with your misery.
"Remember, son, the show must go on. Even if there is
only one person there or you are feeling rough...if
that guy bought a ticket he deserves to see your very
best performance," said Bob Cox our manager.
"You've gotta be kidding," I thought. "We have been
doing one-nighters all the way across the country. I
am tired, beat, worn out...lets give the money back and
take a few days break!"
"Keep a stiff upper lip now! You can rest in the car
on the next leg of the trip."
" Ha!...I am the driver...remember?"(We carried two
cars).
Well, you get to a motel (Not always...sometimes
change in the car), shower, get dressed and still
having chills, you drag your buns out for the trip to
the theater. As you drive down the street you see
banners across it with "Welcome Sparkletones" on
it...or "Matineee today 2PM and 4PM"
"Wait a MINUTE here! Look at all those people around
that door waiting in line! Oh, Man! I can't do this. I
am sick as a dog!"
You are let in through the back door, set up on stage,
check the mike (belongs to the theater) then backstage
as they open the front doors.
"Man, my head hurts and I don't think I can focus too
well...they're going to laugh at me I'll be so bad.
Anybody got an aspirin?"
Peeping through the curtain you see they are piling
in, full of energy and ready to rock and make lots of
noise. You, on the other hand, are ready to lay your
bod down and sack out for 472 days...non-stop.
A local DJ comes backstage to meet you and welcome
you...you try to give a convincing smile and act
really ready to rock (Ha!) He goes out on stage and
gives a really big buildup in his introduction...you
think," Are we really all that stuff?"(Never let
yourself believe it !)
All of a sudden you find you aren't thinking about
being sick anymore...doggone, this is gettin'
good.Those kids are screamin' and clapping in time
with "We want Black Slacks". You find yourself
thinking,"I'll wait til later to be sick!"
DJ shouts,"Now here they are....". Bedlam!
You run out on that small strip of stage in front of
the curtain(Movie theater)and you commence to Rock and
Roll...big-time!
Let me tell you something....there is no better cure
for the fever than a good old shot of backbeat with a
walking bass and some chunk-chunk from the guitars
with a happy crowd just havin' as good time. They're
dancin' in the aisles, Shakin' on the chandeliers(Did
I spell that right?) Who cares with all this
excitement!
What fever? What headache?
Thanks to all the Sparkletones fans who came to the
show and cured our fevers and headaches over the
years. We appreciate each and every one who came,
wrote, phoned, sent E-mails (Sparkletones@msn.com) or
shook hands not to mention the kind folks who stood in
line to say "Hello" in Munich, Las Vegas and Hemsby.
Have a great summer holiday, ya'll!
Joe Bennett
June, 2003
"Sparkie"
I suppose his weight would have been around 75-80
lbs ... soaking wet and I'm reasonably sure he never
took a dance lesson or voice lesson in his life ... he
did take guitar lessons. He was an innovator in many
ways and he was a "little brother" to me ... 12 years
old.
We called him,"Sparkie" for various
reasons ... Sparkletone ... and he was a spontaneous burst
of energy waiting to bust loose and when it did bust
loose, he would sling that jet-black hair around and
those big blue eyes lit up and he would break into a
improvisational dance move that killed everyone within
eye-shot. He was just so full of himself and the music
would key that ignition switch that turned the dynamo on.
He was 25% of The Sparkletones but in actuality, he
was the main visual part of our program. If you can
get hold of a Ted Mack Original Amatuer video from the
Library of congress ... not sure of the exact
date ... winter of '56, you will see him cut loose with
that energy. When you saw him do that YOU became
charged up also. What a phenomenon!
There's more.
The high harmonies on our recordings were Sparkie. He
had the gift ... the ear and that choir-boy high voice
and could harmonize with a freight train! He could
make anyone sound good by doing a harmony line along
with them.
But somewhere down the road, around 13-15 years old,
puberty arrives, the yodelling starts, the zits
commence and high childrens voices (Especially
boys) start to sound like the bass singer for the
Jordinaires.
His family called him Howard. Howard Childress. I know
the family ... all wonderful Carolina friendly people.
His older brother, Billy, whom Sparkie loved dearly,
was killed in truck accident in Georgia. Billy was
also a guitar man. He could play Sugarfoot Rag with
the best of them and had the best smile you ever saw.
But Sparkie was the One.
The first time I saw him he sang Davie Crockett at a
school talent show. When Wayne, Jimmy and I started
playing we were looking for another guitar player. It
was so obvious who to get and was the best move we
ever made. We were not aware he could sing harmony at
that young age ... but he sure did!
On the road at 13, he was a typical young kid..getting
into mischief ... requiring careful observance ... a
typical little brother to us. He could make you so mad
yet you couldn't stay mad long! "Let's go to the
movies ... let's do this or that.." ... you know how it
goes.
But Sparkie provided that balance that kept us from
killing each other..we never really had any bad
moments as a band because he could break any tension
that might arise by some little thing he would say or
do.
If anyone ever had a genuine love for music, it was,
and is, him. He can get his guitar outta that case,
tuned and playing quicker than anyone I ever saw. He
is always eager to try new licks especially on harmony
lead. He is a great guitarist and composer ... he wrote
"Cotton-Pickin' Rocker" and other really amazing
songs ... some recorded in Nashville.
Sparkie, just want you to know how I treasure all
those memories of your performances and companionship.
Just think ... I had a front row seat!
Joe
April/May, 2003
Rockabilly in the Air
We used to climb those massive poplars down in MaMa's
pasture. The branches were close together and the
trunks were straight and very tall. When we had a good
stiff wind, I would head for the trees after school,
get off the pony and climb up high ... really high and
sway in the breeze for long periods of time.
The vista was magnificent for you could see for miles
and the air was somehow fresher up there ... best air I
ever tasted.
I caught some real fresh air over the past few weeks
also.
Rockabilly air with all the trimmings. To tell the
truth, I never knew that air was out there.
The Sparkletones packed up and headed for Tom Ingram's
shindig out in Vegas called, "Viva Las Vegas 2003"
where we were in shock upon seeing the activities
surrounding said festival!
I mean, there were ducktails and pork-chops, pegged
pants and clothes shops, Oldies and goldies, not to
mention pickers and kickers! What a treat to see women
looking PRETTY ... I mean high heels with bows, dresses
below the knees, generally the 30's-40's look ... how
refreshing! It made a feller want to get up on a stage
and rock and roll!
I mean, REAL rock and roll ... no distortion, phase
shifters, wah-wahs ... reverb was IT ... you get the
picture! ... I mean REFRESHING.
Professional that he is, Tom had everything ready to
go down to the small details. We had a really tight
schedule ... in on Friday, play Friday night (Sound Ck.
3 PM), sleep, get up on Sat. AM and fly back home.
Everything went near perfect ... one regret for me is
that I never got to meet or see Bob Timmers. Maybe
someday soon, Bob.
Well, just when I thought I had had enough great fresh
air, we packed up and headed East for England and the
Hemsby festival down by the sea near Great
Yarmouth ... one of the niftiest little towns you ever
saw! We got to meet Marvin Rainwater and wife, Johnny
Allen, The Cadets, Maria Vincent and Husband (Great CD
with The Millionaires)and tons of just plain great
folks being friendly, courteous and kind! To all the
friends we made at the Regency Dolphin Hotel, thank
you so much for making it an unforgetable visit on our
first trip to England.
To Mr. Willie Jeffries (The Big Enchilada!) we say
thank you Willie for giving us the opportunity to come
and see you guys. Willie had it all
covered ... transportation,hotel, food ... I mean, all of
it ... down to the settings on the guitar amps after
sound check. Willie sounds like John Forsythe when he
talks and is a very gracious man.
Thanks again, Willie ... hope we did it right for you.
To all the reporters, photogs, editors and performers
with whom we had a joyous time ... thank you for your
enthusiasm for the music and very supportive comments
for our little group. It should be illegal for 4 aged
men to have so much fun playing the good old fifties
stuff!
It was erroneously reported that the band was not the
originals who did the recordings for
ABC-Paramount ... oh but it was and is the original
group. Sorry if we mislead anyone during interviews.
There is so much fresh air in the rockabilly genre of
music, I don't think I can stand it!
We have seen and witnessed it...and we think it is
VERY cool!
Joe
March, 2003
Sparkletones Rockin' Again
Howdy everyone!
Looks like spring is just around the corner and
cabin fever is about to subside. Well, that means
planting taters, maters and eatin' lots of nanner
puddin'!
For The Sparkletones these next few months have a
special meaning. We are finally going "out" as a group
(First time in over 40 some years!) and will be jammin'
at Viva Las Vegas on Friday, Apr.18th at the Tom Ingram
venue and then on to Hemsby, England for Willie
Jeffries' big bash on May 10th along with Jack Scott
and others. We might be too old for that stuff!
We also have a gig here a week from this coming
Tuesday at the Cannons Elentary School ... an annual
thing ... everyone dresses '50ish and we play and dance
til the cows come home. What great fun.
We just had new Sparkletones jackets made ... like the
old ones ... we had the originals made in Las Vegas in
'57.
One nite Ol' Elvis came to our show at the Royal
Nevada (now the parking lot for the Stardust!). The
curtain opened and as usual we were blinded for the
first moment or so but came out rockin' ... then we saw
Elvis ... sittin' at the foot of the stage (we could
have walked onto his table) with his group of
bodyguards and a cute little blonde gal. We never
played a correct chord all night long I don't believe.
He was laughing and cuttin' up and keeping the
beat ... he knew that made us feel good I'm sure.
After our performance, we went back to the dressing
room and changed ... suddenly a knock on the door ... yep,
there he stood! Ol' Elvis! We invited him in and what
was the first thing he did? Walked over to the clothes
rack and grabbed our uniforms. "Where did ya'll get
these things, man? Well, we had a discussion about it
and other things, like when he played at the Carolina
theater in our home town, then made some photos.
But, the big thing of the night was our "Suits of
Light."
In his later years, he wore almost the same
outfit ... "Ike Jacket" cut, stand-up collar and
sparkles.
So, when someone says, "Hey, I hope you guys don't
show up in Elvis suits"' I just say, "Hey man! We got
there first" Maybe he showed up in a Sparkletones
Suit! Well, maybe we got there first but he got there
with the MOST. We all loved Elvis and it is an honor
just to have had him in the dressing room much less
have him really dig our threads!
Rehearsals have been a joy as we get out the old
songs like "Rocket", We've Had It"," Penny Loafers",
"Cotton Pickin' Rocker", and rock the dust off of
them. It is like meeting old friends.
Remember, this is the ORIGINAL group and we sound
almost the same ... at a lower pitch! The guys can still
really wail. Can't wait to try those Standell amps ... I
hear they are awesome.
Thanks for focusing on these humble words for a
short while. KEEP ON ROCKIN' TO THE HAPPY SOUNDS!
See ya'll next month and hope you can make Vegas for
a visit..
Joe
February, 2003
Guitar Show
There is a guitar show 'a comin' to my hometown!
Now, according to what I'm a hearin', you bring a
guitar with you and you get in at a discount price.
There will be every kind of guitar under the sun on
display and for sale (they say) ... you've got your
acoustics, electrics, 12 strings, 7 strings, 8
strings ... one's with a fuzz-whammy-buster bolted in
the bridge that will shore 'nuff make it twang (The
twang's the thang!).
There's the
out-draglook like they could out drag a
Chevrolet! ... red flame, blue flame (Extra $175) ... vee
shapes, "X" shapes ... how in the heck do you curl
around one of those things?
How about them little teenie-weenie tuners built into
the body? ... Teflon bridge anyone?
I found some junkers in the corner at one of these
shows ... from a distance I thought, "Man, that's the
place for me ... something I can afford!... there seemed
to be a large group around that area and I couldn't
figure that out ... probably a bunch of cheapskates like
me!
Whoa, Nellie! There sits a '56 Strat scratched up
somewhat and slightly grooved in the neck ... I withdraw my handkerchief to clean
my glasses cause I KNOW
I'm not seeing the right price on that booger!
Four Thousand what? ... did you say "Dollars"?
I giggled so hard I swallered my bubble gum! This old
boy was alright ... I mean, he knew how we kid and carry
on with people ... he had a great sense of humor!
When he started saying, "Sir" I knew he wasn't kiddin'.
I said,"Son, them old Strats from the '50s had some
kind of ceramic pickup covers that always split on the
ends, the electronic bowels back then were no where
near as good a quality as they are nowadays and if you
popped a string, everything went haywire outta
tune ... I know cause I did it in front of a few
thousand people once ... shoulda seen me bending and
twisting during that lead jam trying to make it sound
on pitch!
Boy, was that an education that day at the Guitar
Show...not for him but for me.
I remember grooving the maple neck on
my first one and trading it in for a new one in
'59...wonder where that old ax is now.
A friend of mine saw an ad in the local
newspaper.."Guitar and Amp for sale" ... he called and
went to see it. A farmer took him out back to the shed
and threw back an old canvas tarp revealing a Ampeg
amp and a genuine Gibson Les Paul in black. My friend
asked "How Much" and was told in no uncertain terms
that he would not take a dollar less that $175 ... no
haggling! He had traded for a coon dog.
Put me in his category. Just give me something that
plays and sounds good!
Say, Aunt Bertha, isn't there an old guitar under your
bed that's been there about 40 years?
January, 2003
Venues
Where have all the country schoolhouse gigs
gone? ... playing at the downtown Rec. Center for a sock
hop? Is live entertainment off the scale when it comes
to affording a band for a Hop?
I remember that we could be up close to the band and
watch and learn when I was a kid....you could get real
close to the things you wished you could touch but
couldn't ... like a real live Strat.
You may have noticed that in the past few years the
venues have gotten smaller and the public is kind of
liking to be able to SEE and HEAR up close and are
willing to pay for it. Here in my hometown, The
Spartanburg Memorial Auditorium holds 3400 upstairs
and we get a few biggies coming here for $25-$50 a
pop. I remember seeing Merle and Barbra Mandrell here
and what a peasure it was not to have to strain.
Could this fly in the face of the "Bigger is Better"
idea?
Yeah ... I know it is a business but the first rule of
thumb is: It must be entertaining! Seeing a group 200
yards away play and sing without binoculars is a
laugh. To me it indicates a fear of the crowd. I
mean ... "Let's keep a distance between me and the
crowd ... they might see all my blemishes which are
hidden on the publicity photos"...or,"Maybe they'll
see how tall I really am NOT" ... "No autographs
please! ... too darn close!"
Come on! Gimme a break! ... I mean we are all humans and
have flaws. We need to get in there and mix it up with
them ... it gives them AND us something to talk about
when we get home. Show a kid a chord or harmonize with
one of your fans when he tries to show how he can sing
your song.
In the 50's we went to Fitchburg, Mass. and played a
sock hop with Fabian (Forte) ... we opened and you could
tell they had heard our song ... I have never heard a
louder sound im my life! It was frightening. The cops
were holding 'em back. Finally we finished and Fabian
came on ... Good Grief! My head felt like it would
collapse from all the squealing cheers ... it was a
terrifying feeling ... the cops had their hands full and
we were already planning our break after it was
over ... now, in this case, I wouldn't recommend
attempting to stop and chit-chat. Wayne lost a shoe
and a sleeve from his outfit ... what a night.
Anyway, I am very much for the smaller rooms and the
close association with your fans and music lovers.
If you can be successful with a small crowd, it makes
it real easy when the larger ones come around.
So, why not check out the local high school, pass the
word to friends our age, ease back on the power a
little and let them see hoiw much fun our rockabilly
music is. What the heck, they'll pay 5 bucks for that.
Today we started rehearsals for the coming gigs in
March, April and May. We played a song called
"Rocket" ... a Sparkletones original. We had more fun
with that thing than the law should allow. I wish you
could have been there. We practiced in Jim's back
room ... kind of tight but just right!
Yeah! Let's keep it small and have a ball, Ya'll!
Sincere Best Wishes For A Happy New Year!
Joe
PS: Hope to see you in Vegas in April or Hemsly in May,
not to mention Sparkletones Day at Cannons Elementary
School the 2nd Tuesday in March.
November, 2002
Before Black Slacks
Heck ... it was just a kid thing to do, dress up like an
Indian and sneak up through the field on a Saturday
afternoon. The object was to work my way up the ball
field and see if any enemies were around that might
threaten the tribe. Only the mind of a seven or eight
year old boy could conjure up a scene like that at a
baseball game across the road.
Keeping my head low, I crawled through the broom straw
right to the ditch where I paused and, very carefully,
raised my head.
Our eyeballs locked on to each other! There he
was ... looking straight into my eyes with a slight grin
on his face.
It was Edney Reece ... they called him Smokey ... Smokey
Reece, the Bass Player.
He elbowed the man standing next to him ... you could
tell he was saying,"Look at that kid over there
playing Indian." They both laughed.
Me?
I high-tailed it down through that broom straw as fast
as my unshod feet could go to the safety of our
little stucco house on Cannons Campground Road where I
promptly gnawed on a nanner sandwich with a glass of
apple juice.
I had seen Smokey play bass at a show at the school
house featuring Hubert Chapman, a local entertainer
who had Nashville dreams of scoring like Hank did.
They had a steel and a lead, no drums, BUT a couple of
hard-picking rhythym guitars. To me they sounded good
and I was fascinated by that big ol' doghouse.
I watched him closely and observed how he slapped and
fretted(?) that thing ... I made a mental note and every
chance I got to see a bass player perform, I was
there.
In later years it really came in handy as I worked to
show Wayne how to play ... neither of us having had a
formal lesson on bass. He was my first actual student
and worked hard to perfect what we percieved as a
really good sound.
Even now Wayne and I get together every Monday AM at
my house and work on stuff. What a treasure music has
been to us through the years and still is. When we
harmonize in a really good way you can see that big
ol' grin pop out on his face.
Before Black Slacks, when we were on the road doing
summer shows at high school gyms all over the
southeast, Wayne had developed blisters on his
slapping hand that were quite painful. The next day we
had "The" audition for Paramount pictures to tour
their theaters. I didn't think Wayne would be able to
play.
But, trouper that he was, he played one of the best
sets of his career. At the end backstage, he showed a
bloody right hand where the blisters gave way to the
slaps against the wood.
We got the job for Paramount and played many
one-nighters from Knoxville to L.A.
Every guy in the band was transformed from a rank
amateur to a pro in those 38 days of playing 2 to 3
shows daily then driving late at night to get to the
next town. By the time we got to L.A. we were indeed
ready to audition for the Art Mooney Show going to
Vegas for 6 weeks.
We passed and went to Vegas for a total of 13 weeks
and great things started to happen ... thanks to our
manager, Bob Cox.
A couple of years later, after it was over, I often
wondered if anyone watched us as WE used to watch
others like Smokey Reece. Did we leave a feeling of
wonder about music in the minds of the kids who came
to see us play?
I have learned that little eyes are watching from
somewhere and their minds are just like a brand new
hard drive ... blank and ready for information to be put
in.
God help us to never betray that innocence but that we
can give them a model worthy enough for them to look
up to.
Joe Bennett
October, 2002
Reverb ?
What the heck is that?! ... ah! ... the way you sound when
you sing in the bathroom...yeah, that's nice!...Did
they make Ol' Elvis sing in the bathroom?
I told some of my students about travelling on the
road with our band and the kind of equipment we used.
No. We didn't have a PA...had to use what the "Venue"
(Modern term for "Where we played") had ... just had to
hope for the best. Most of the times it was a cheap
mike and PA and if you played too loud no one could
hear the vocals or bass. Sometimes it was a mike
plugged into a guitar amp (Shudder).
"Well, what did you use for distortion?"
"Are you kiddin"?!
THAT was something we tried to get rid of! With those
Fender amps and guitars, plus Gibsons and others, we
were over-joyed to sound so clean and sharp. You've
heard the story ... "We tried for forty years to get rid
of distortion and now for 40 bucks you can put it all
back in!"
"But listen to this Mr. Bennett," as he toed one of
those little boxes. Rippity bippity, roooow, zoooom,
whine, bwaaaaah! I mean he ripped off a passage that
ran from the bottom of your shoes to the highest hair
on your balding, rockabilly head then stands there
with that impish, haughty look on that young face,
expecting you to drop your jaw and shake your
head ... then say,"Wow!"
Then what do you do? You drop your jaw and say
"Wow!" ... mainly because his pick only hit the strings
four times and yet you heard 87 notes in rapid
succession! Those magical hammers, pull-offs and
ripoffs make you sound like you are really getting it
done.
One came into the studio some time back with amp,
pedals and guitar ... wanted to know if I could "teach
him something." He was Billy The Kid after Old Wyatt
Earp ... had his friend with him to demonstrate his
demolition of the local guitar guru to.
"Where can I hook up?" says he. "Nah, not necessary,"
says I. "I've already got an amp hooked up, just plug
in number two ..." "Well, ahh, I use my own ..."
"Nah, you can use mine ... it's got reverb ... let's make
it quick, I've got a student coming. Let's see, can
you play over a 1,6,2,5 progression? Can you show me
where F#m7 chord is?"
"Well, maybe I'll come back when you have more time."
Now, I'm not telling this to put down kids and their
music ... we were kids once and we had our own kind of
music. I admire some of the techniques and sounds we
hear today but I would like to see more real technique
taught.
Let's face it ... it is what your upper digits do that
really show your skills AT PLAYING ... NOT OPERATION OF
EFFECTS BOXES.
Most of us rockabilly cats are purists but I have seen
some modern rock players with about 8 of those boxes
nailed to a 1X6 and I have often thought "How much
rehearsal goes into dancin' on those little boxes?
Which one is on or off"
Then I thinks, "How about a steel player? He has his
problems too!"
By the way, have you heard the new chorus effects and
digital slapback echos that are currently on the
market? I am thinking about ...
Ya'll be good, now.
Joe
September, 2002
Hello Rockabillies!
Labor Day, 2002, and it is another great day. With
plates piled high with good ol' hash, chips and cole
slaw and a big ol' RC to go with it, we make our way
to the shade tree, find a likely spot (Hopefully no
invisible fireants there), plop down and proceed to
feast on the "fat of the land", literally!.
After gorging ourselves, we chew on a toothpick and
meander around taking in the crowd with an occasional
greeting to a friend or acquaintance and just
generally enjoy the day.
Sounds like music down the way here ... let's go see!
THe local blue grass band is playing "Foggy Mountain
Breakdown" and the crowd is starting to come alive ... a
few hands clapping in time with the music and a lots
of feet pattin' to the rhythm.
Folks, I don't know about where you live, but what I
have just described is a typical Labor Day down
here ... though I could have thrown in some Nascar and a
football game or two.
I will be enjoying it with you all in the same way,
Good Lord willin'.
How neat it would be to hear Ricky Nelson singing
"Stood Up" out on a flatbed somewhere and James Burton
laying those great licks of his in there. Or Carl
Perkins doing one of my all time favorites "Honey
Don't" ... he was MR. Rockabilly as we all know.
Labor Day is a day of rejoicing for the working
man ... a day to honor all those who have worked in a
thousand different jobs and did it with honor. I
believe that any honorable job is never a job to be
ashamed of ... from shoe shining to factory
working ... from President of The U.S. to a car wash
pro, isn't it just great that we can make a living and
feed our families by the sweat of our brows. And thank
goodness for the rich man ... my Grandpa Herb used to
say that ... without the rich man he wouldn't have had a
job.
Let's all have a great time and really enjoy it!
But wait ... this year ... somehow there is a little bit
of pain in our bosom...maybe an urge to shed a tear or
kick some tail ... a sadness that music can't heal. I
believe we all would like to stand at a podium
somewhere and tell those jerks what we feel and to
make a great condemnation of them for doing such a
horrible thing.
Well, action speaks louder than words ... and
brother,you're about to get all you want ... you have
finally succeeded in making America mad.
God bless the survivors and families of 9/11.
We love you and pray for you.
Joe
August, 2002
Munich Rocks!
Good New Month!
In August flatbeds are loaded with 4 and 5 piece
bands under shade trees (Hopefully), power cables
strung across asphalt, threatening weather and
sometimes rushes to get everything covered and in the
dry, not to mention the smells of cotton candy and
hotdogs.
That is in America.
How about other parts of the world? Do they get to
pickup on the good times on a Saturday afternoon or
night and swing their sweeties to the beat of "I Got A
Woman"?
Let me tell you folks, they ain't left out! They got
them Harlies, T-shirts and black leather jackets,
sideburns or other wierd do's, stratocasters cookin,
standup basses slappin' and Schlagzuegspielers
(Drummers) kickin'. I'm sure that most of you knew
this stuff, but not me ... I have been behind the moon.
My friend and promotor for "Lets Rock Concerts" in
Munich, Germany is Klaus Kettner..sounds just the way
it is spelled. He is a real Pro and does what he says
he'll do.
He invited your's truly over for the annual
"Rockabilly Rock and Roll Meeting" on July 26 and 27
which he produced. It is a 2 day festival with great
rockabilly groups from Europe. They don't mess around
and love the music they play.
And what a setting..at the horse-racing track with a
golf course in the center. It is one of the most
beautiful settings I have seen with the greenest grass
you ever saw and some pretty fast horses! Yes, you can
make a wager if you'd like!
My son, Little Joe, accompanied me and was a big
help. He didn't want to come back so soon but alas,
shool does await.
I got to perform with one of the great bands of that
area called the "Black Slacks" band. What an honor to
have a band named after your record! They were
awesome. There was Josey on bass, Paul on guitar and
Heinrich on drumms. Mike, the lead singer and rhythm
guitar, laid out on my stuff and they new the Tones
songs better than I did! What a joy to play with
musicians of that caliber! And, don't worry my friend,
they all sing in English.
A local TV station kindly sought out an interview and
a couple of radio stations as well. They were all
really kind and generous and helpful with the language
barrier.
Rockabilly music is everywhere, folks. The degree of
English fluency there is astounding and they
understand the words to your songs. It is like there is
virtually no boundaries. The style of raw rockabilly
is on the rise once again with a greater appreciation
for the work done with the fingers as opposed to fuzz
pedals and distortion units.
Maybe you could plan your summer around Klaus's little
get-together next year around the end of July. You
will meet some great folks, hear great music and have
a great time.And, those schnitzels are the best
tasting things around anywhere.
Keep on rockin',
Joe
(Rarin'to go)
Sparkletones@msn.com
July, 2002
Gospel Influences
It was a hot summer night in deep Carolina. Revival
was going on every night where our family attended.
The preacher said the end might come tonite. He said
it most convincingly with sweat, red face, and a
tearful voice. It struck fear in the heart of a ten
year old kid.
I hated for it to be over cause that meant I had to go
home to my bed and lay there scared outta my wits.
Every time a car went by down on Cannons Campground
Rd., the lights would flash through the house and it
scared me. I thought it was the end ... fire and
brimstone. It usually took a long time for me to
finally go to sleep.
The gospel music we sang was closely related to that
fear of The Lord and the sincerity in the voices
raised in three or four part harmony will touch anyone
who hears it ... Yankee or Reb.
To ad a little variety, 3 members of the quartet would
hum in harmony while the lead or tenor would sing
solo. Man, it added to the sound ... who needed all those
big fancy instruments in the background when you had
good solid 3 part harmony coming down? We may have
gotten that idea from some of the local black gospel
arrangements.
Naturally it fed over into our Saturday-night music
and there was, and still is, a heart-warming sound
that added so much to the song. That good ol' low-down
bass doing runs over the chords while the lead is
doing counter-point ... a woven fabric that you can wrap
your heart in and there is no doubt that Miss Molly is
going to go for it.
And what an excellent backround for the instrumental!
In your little 3 piece combo, try a little O-O-O-O or
A-H-h-h-h- or how about o-o-o-o-wah? in the background
when the guitar takes a break...I guarantee it will
hold together and you won't feel like the botton fell
out when rhythym stops to play lead.
Well, the gospel "Feel" got mixed into the rockabilly
but you had to use some sure enough rock-a-billy chord
changes or it would just plain sound gospel.
I am sure you all know about the 1-6-2-5 changes..G,
Em, Am, D7...you can sing everything from Blue Moon to
Lollipop with those chords,then ... just toss in a
little vocal background harmony and you have a bed of
rhythm to write to or lay down some heart wrenching
lead to. On a quick-beat, a little shoo-wop goes
mighty good.
Any questions?..let me know @ Sparkletones@msn.com
Ya'll take it easy, here?
Joe
June, 2002
Black Diamond Strings
Happiness was a new set of Black Diamonds...in a
little black box with gold lettering...$1.25 in those
days. They were all silvery-shiney and you handled
them like you would a 1 lb. nugget from
California..with great respect and gentleness.
And, man!..when you tuned up and hit that big old fat
"E" chord...it just knocked you out!
Who you gonna share all that joy with? The neighbors
don't know a thing about guitar strings and your Mama
sure doesn't! (Even though she bought them for you.)
She thinks you have gone totally nuts with your silly
little smile and the endless playing you do over the
next few days.Even your school buddies don't
comprehend the thrill of strumming a new set of BD's.
There used to be one guitar player every 40 Sq. miles.
Now, it is 1 every 40 Sq. FEET!
Have you noticed that? Everybody plays guitar
nowadays. Nobody goes to see the acts booked down at
the local auditorium anymore cause the next door
neighbor plays twice as good as the main act's lead
man. There are a few that would make Ol' Brent sweat!
(And that is going some).
Most of us are like a herd of sheep following some
guitar Guru in the direction of "Our" music...Clapton
style or Eric Johnson...you know the story. To tell
the truth, I have a heck of a time playing old-time
rockabilly without all those benders that we put in
these days...I go to a flat-wound heavy to keep from
playing benders all the time. You try to bend one of
those buggers and your 3rd finger callous will say
"Adios!"
So, how do we become a unique player? We have to have
a different sound, different licks, maybe tune
differently...how about hooking up a bull-horn to our
amp head..."The Cheerleader Guitar styles of....."
Now, us rockabillies don't care too much about
uniqueness...we just want it played good. Now,
sometimes we get pushed into a corner and have to
produce...like Scotty. No rhythym guitar...just him,
bass and drumms and you-know-who slapping on a few
chords. Scotty had to play a style that included
rhythym chords with runs...so, he invented a unique
style. If he cut loose the chords when it was time for
a lead break, the bottom would fall out (At least he
thought it would)...it would sound so empty.
Like they say, "Necessity is the Mother of invention".
A buddy of mine, Glen Hughey, who is a retired postal
worker was playing some in the music store a few
months back...he is a Chet-nut and he had exchanged
his low E and A for a pair of low end steel guitar
strings and it sounded like a bass playing along with
him. It was a great sound. I think his Gretsch
wouldn't hold the tension on those fat strings so he
changed back.
So let's get our heads together and try to put
ourselves in a spot where we HAVE to come up with some
new approach (Like Scotty).
How about a rockabilly band with an Oboe player? That
ought to get it!
Have a nifty summer, you guys.
Joe
May, 2002
Dear Rock-a-billy Nut,
It has been a long time since we cussed and discussed
Rockabilly Roots and stuff...but it looks like we will
get to rap (Uh-oh, dirty word) with each other again for
a while.
Some of you may know that my "Pappy", Penny Bennett,
passed away on Christmas Day last Dec. ... he is the one
who attended every guitar lesson I ever had with
Jerome Fowler down at Clifton, S.C...he couldn't play
but loved music. I Love Him. He was 89 years young.
Kind of a sad note, huh? Well, there is a thing out
there nowadays called "Music Therapy".
Music therapy is a miracle.
I used to go to the nursing home when my grandma was
there years ago and sometimes a musical group would
come and sing for the old folks ... with a little
preachin' on the side. I always thought that if I ever
played for them, I would do uplifting stuff not
depressing stuff. I mean I'd play a rocking version of
"In The Mood" or something else with a bounce to it.
How about music that they grew up with (Benny Goodman
rock-a-billy style) that would bring back happy
memories for them.
That is music therapy my friend! And we, as
rock-a-billies, get a dose of that every day when we
pick up our axes and hit a few licks at home or with
our buds in the basement. Don't we feel good when we
play. It is amazing how 4 0r 5 guys, all of them
different, get together and make music together. Each
guy is from a different background ... some are jerks
and some are nice guys..but the end result is good
music.
Rockabilly is fun music ... uplifting and free-wheeling.
Say! Why not check into the local nursing home and
give those old rock-a-billy fans a shot of the good
old music that they loved as youngsters? You will get
at least as much "Therapump" out of it as they do!
Thanks for lettin' me get on the soap box for a little
while.
Cave Catt Sammy came by the music store to see me
about a month ago ..t hey hail from San Antone and are
really nice guys with a true rock-a-billy sound. They
left a CD and I really enjoyed it. Catch 'em if you
get a chance! Their setup was almost identical to the
old 'Tones.
Looks like we will be hitting the stage in Vegas come
Apr. 18th at Viva Las Vegas...back to our old stomping
grounds and we are really looking forward to it.
Ya'll keep on rockin'!
Joe
P.S. Would you believe my 16 year old daughter won the
Miss Teen Spartanburg contest singing Italian Opera?
Guess what her platform is ... Music Therapy. Yep, I've
been brain-washed! Check out her web site at
Lindsaybennett.com
For: Feb. and March. 2000
Mama
On a beat-up flat top that he found up in the attic
His Mama should him how to play a song
And tho his fingers hurt him he just kept right on a pickin'
And it started sounding good before to long
Then on weekends when the kinfolks always came down for a visit
They'd eat and then they'd sit and talk all day
The kids would go down by the creek or just go fishin'
But before they'd leave his Ma would say
"Willie play the guitar for Aunt Martha
Show her that new chord you learned today!
Come on, now,Willie please don't be a bashful little man
Mama's really proud of how you play."
Well, that is kinda typical of some of the days of my
youth ... you know how it goes ... "Oh, Ma, don't make me
play in front of them."..but you knew dang well you
had to ... so, next time you'd better practice cause you
knew what was coming ... don't want them to make fun of
your pickin'!
Willie always played for her though he was shy and bashful
And he got so he could make that guitar talk
One summer when he worked so hard a sweatin' baggin' groceries
He played the new electric that he bought
Now on weekends when he tunes up for the show down at the opry
His dying Mama's words are on his mind
When she held him close and whispered one more time
"Willie play the guitar for your Mama
You know that you've got music in your soul
Come on, now, Willie, step right up
And let 'em see you shine
And I'll be watching everywhere you go!"
(From "Willie Play The Guitar" by Joe Bennett Copyright 1991)
Remember when she used to make you practice when your
team had a game in 15 minutes? But, hey, we all need a
slave-driver to keep us focused ... right? Or we might
say, "The Babe never played music!" ... you know us guys
have a different viewpoint on things!
The roots of rockabilly go way back to those days for
all of us and even as kids, there was something
intrinsically exciting about a "Show"...especially
with a guitar and big ol doghouse bass...maybe a
fiddle or banjo ... now the boys liked that but then
here came the girls with "Dance With Me, Henry" or
"Seven Lonely Days"..they just couldn't get the hang
of the REAL music ... so .... we said," Let's mix a little
of that in with some of this."
No Way! ... there will never be a saxophone in this
band! ... piano is as far as I'll go, dagnabit!
Ha!
We appreciated all the practice Mama made us do when
it came time to 'get out there' for the first time.
Nervous but confident were we...we knew we could play
it so we didn't worry and just had fun.
There are a lot of ingredients ion that recipe for
Rockabilly ... not the least of which is ... Mama.
For: Nov. 1999 thru Jan. 2000
"Can you teach me rockabilly?"
Hark! Is that a minute flicker of light I see way down
yonder at the end of the tunnel? Is that a faint spark
of hope I detect in the breasts of rockabilly fans and
players?
Is it true that 2 weeks ago a young 14-15 year old kid
walks in after being signed up for guitar lessons and
says, "Can you teach me rockabilly?" Did the old heart
leap for joy when he said that? Is there really a
sub-twenty-year-old who loves Brian Setzer, Elvis and
all the rest who play good-time, happy, rockin'music,
alive on this planet?
The answer, my dear friends, to all the above
questions is a resounding YES!!!"
He knows about Gretsch Duo-Jets, hollow-body electrics
and old Showman amps!
For the sake of privacy, his first name is Chris and
that's all I'll say for now. He is already working on
some old Scotty Moore licks and rock scales...man, I
can't wait til he gets to cookin' and we can jam
together! His Pappy is happy to see him find someone
interested and knowledgeable about the kind of music
his son likes and he is very supportive of Chris.
My point?
What goes round comes round.
Power chords and distortion units(Fuzz boxes) are
wearing a little thin these days...the music scene is
dismal in my opinion...stale as Friday's bread.
There are some bright spots out there,
however...BR549, Brent Mason's album, Albert Lee still
pickin' those rockabilly licks outta that old Telly of
his and, of course, all those snare-drum backbeats in
the country music we hear.
Let's face it boys and girls...if you can't rock you
can't play country these days!
Maybe soon we'll be hearing some music played the way
it outta be! Maybe Chris is not the only one
interested in the good old raw sound of
rockabilly...maybe there will be thousands of them!
Hey, I tell you what...you'd better drag that old
strat out from under the bed, dust it off and put on a
new set of Black Diamonds, put a little graphite on
those zippers in your old pegged pants (If they still
fit)and search the aisles of the drug store to see if
they still sell pomade! Get those teeth fixed and have
yourself some new glossies made...three-quarter view
with a slight sneer....you know the routine!
Yes sir! I am excited! I am thankful for currently
popular guys like Trey Anastasio who will lift the
quality of playing by the youth who try to catch his
licks and many others who are putting the artistry
back into modern music.
Once they learn that dancing is fun and that a certain
amount of athletic ability is required to do it
(Rockin' style,of course), and the smaller and less
noisy the combo the more you can hear EACH
instrument...you know, stuff like that, they will
really get into our kind of music.
That is why I am working on a new album...just plain
old Rock and Roll the way we used to do it...come on
Scotty and Duane Eddy...all you guys that can still
give a thrill to people who GENUINELY like to rock for
fun...don't change it, now...just the way you used to.
Remember, my new student Chris is just the tip of the
iceberg!
Have a goodun'..
Joe
October, 1999 -
Memories Are Made of This.
About 3 weeks ago on a saturday around noon,I had just
gotten my overalls good and dirty and my muscles
loosened up working in the garden when it
happened...my 13 year old, Lindsay, came out to tell
me I had a phone call. She had brought the portable so
amongst the singing of the birds and the blowing of
the breeze I said, "Hello".
Well, as it happened, it was Deke Dickerson on the
line stating that he was in the greater metropolitan
area of Spartanburg, S.C. after having performed in
Ashville, N.C. the night before, was en route to
Savannah for a saturday night "Rock out" and wondered
if we could meet briefly in person for a few minutes.
I replied that I would love to so Lindsay and I went
to the local Walmart parking lot where we became
acquainted with Deke and The Ecco-phonics! What a neat
bunch of guys! They were very kind and gracious and
showed us around their set of wheels which was the
epitome of practicality... a high-topped Dodge van
with the bull fiddle strapped into the upper portion,
pictures of Elvis, Buddy Holly and bunches more pasted
over the cockpit area. Just the ideal rockabilly mode
of transportation.
Now, we had a great short-visit and took pictures of
each other. Deke had recorded some old Sparkletones
stuff on an Album with Dave when they were the Dave
and Deke Combo. We had talked on the phone but had
never met each other in the flesh. He said Dave is
playing western swing nowadays.
Deke also gave us a copy of his new CD "NUmber One Hit
Record" which I have thoroughly enjoyed. It is fun and
very rhythmic. I am a great fan of his guitar
work...the whole group is just great If you like true
Rockabilly good-time music, pick that one up...you
won't be disappointed!
As we pulled outta the parking lot to go our separate
ways, I felt a little sad yet a little joyfully
reminiscent. I remembered the old Desoto family car we
used to travel in. You must know that a family car is
what the family of the deceased rides in to the
funeral, therefore it was extra long with a added seat
in the middle...total of 3 bench seats. They would
fold down for extra room.
We really put the miles on that baby over a 2 year
period. After our session in N.Y. at Bell Sound
Studios where we recorded Black Slacks, among others,
we went to Knoxville where we started a 42 theatre
tour for Paramount. We carried a movie called
"Gunfight at the OK Corral" to each theater. We played
2 shows between the movie showings in the evenings
and after the theater closed, we would pick up the
film, pack up and move on to the next town....42
theaters in 38 days!
Down the east coast went the Desoto, around the
southern tip of Florida, over to New Orleans via
Anniston, Birmingham and numerous other little towns
in Alabama and Mississippi. In New Orleans, we played
at the Saenger theater where on the first performance,
the whold front row was teenage boys steady giving us
the "Gringo Salute"...ever try to smile and be a
showman under those circumstances?
We continued on through Louisianna and Texas where we
played in many Paramount theaters. We finally ended up
in Santa Monica, Cal. ready for a rest...talk about
one nighters!
Our manager had a 55 Caddy that went with us, but the
Desoto was the car that carried instruments and
suitcases with the standard air mattress on top of the
luggage and stuff for the #2 guy to sleep on while the
#1 guy drove.
Some months later after we had played over half of
creation, it seemed, we stopped at a filling station
somewhere around Tucumcari, NM. Somehow, high
detergent oil got put into our Old Desoto instead of
regular 30 wt....and so, not too many miles down the
road in the middle of nowhere, as I remember it, the
old bomb gave up the ghost with no chance of
repair...threw a rod and I promise that if you ever
hear that sound, you will never forget it AND you will
make dang sure that you put the RIGHT oil in your car
next time.
That car was painted up really loud and gawdy..."The
Sparkletones" in foot high white letters outlined in
black. You could see it a mile away!
We dearly loved that old set of wheels....the way it
looked and smelled. Years later, someone would come by
and say," Hey man, I saw that Old Desoto in New Mexico
from the interstate..sitting in a junkyard"...many
people told us that over the years.
So, all you Rockabilly Bands out there on the road,
relish these times you are spending in your wagon,
whatever it is. These days won't last too long and
someday it will be over. And someday you will be like
me...having dreams that you are cruising down some
highway with your buddies, talking music and listening
to your new recording on the tape player...
Tape player?
They didn't make cassette tapes back then!
Didn't even make 8 tracks!
They just barely made radios!
And to top it off, you had to use the house PA!
Enjoy it, you guys!
Joe
PS. Thanks Deke and The Ecco-fonics
September, 1999 -
Where Ya' Gonna Put 'Em?
"Their music is too fast...nobody dances to that
stuff...how about the wacky way they dress...Old
stuff..who's gonna pay to see em?" typical phrases
by John H. Promotor who doesn't understand the raw
energy in Rockabilly music.
Is it true? Do the playing skills and talents not
count for something? Has the world gone mad!?
I have a friend from out west named Charlie Brown (Go
ahead and giggle). He is a PR man and loves Texas
swing music...Asleep at The Wheel, Tommy Morrell and
the Time-warp Tophands, etc.
He tells me that every weekend thousands pay good
money to come in and dance to a live band playing
swing. It is all the rage out there and yet....radio
stations won't play it. I mean top quality pickers who
have worked all their life at their instruments and
voices and can't get played on the old radio.
Yep' they sell CD's and tapes and do well at personal
appearances but you won't hear them on the airwaves.
As a matter of fact, it is hard to fine one that will
even play Hank, Jr. or Possum (George Jones) any more,
much less Willie and the Boys!
How about some Boogie and BeBop (My kind of
stuff)..where can you hear it?
You might be interested to know that college radio
staions are willing to play a wide variety of musical
styles...blue grass to Rockabilly and they have a
large enough audience to justify a phone call and
personal visit to get your notes played. You may be
surprised to find out just HOW many college stations
there are...check into it, man! Start with your local
area...they will have a list of all of them USA-wide.
Picture this...a 14 year old who likes
Rockabilly/Boogie/Bebop! No Way!..and who controls the
music market nowadays?...I think mostly 14 year old
kids!
So where ya' gonna put us? At the Moose lodge?...the
Armory?..even the Malls don't want Rockabilly!...
Why don't we just do our own thing!?..Have our own top
forty, a syndicated radio show where these songs are
played via college stations...Rockabilly is such a
novelty now that I'll bet the Tonite Show would even
welcome a good solid Rockabilly act...anybody try
lately?
Heck no...we ain't gonna stay in the basement!
BR549 is doing well...along with....George Strait,
Tracy Byrd, Tim McGraw, Junior Brown...
Don't try to tell me those guys aren't
Rockabillies...got a drum in the band, don't they?!
Joe
August, 1999 -
The Other Half
"Son, if you want to have a band and do well, remember
the other half and you'll do fine."
What Uncle Harold was saying was to NOT forget the
ladies!
Yeah, we hairy-legged rockers just want to get it
on...I mean ROCK...let's hear that bass a'slappin and
those drums a kickin" and that guitar a'rockin' with
some wailin' vocals that are eaten up with rockin'
rhythms with a little "Wella, Wella" thrown in for
good measure! Good Grief! It don't get no better than
that, except maybe, a ten pound bass pulling on your
line!
Some of the heavy metal kids say they have a basement
band...no gigs. Why? Do you think the ladies like to
hear 3 guitars wide open with distorion twisted to the
max and the drummer playing with baseball bats?...bass
player with an amp the size of my sofa...you vibrate 2
inches left or right with every note. I mean, it would
blow the ladie's berettes right outta their hair!
Let's face it guys, to be successful in this world,
you have to please the ladies. You know the line, "If
Mama ain't happy, ain't nobody happy!"
The guys who have longevity in this business are the
ones who can croon...slow and pretty. Are the ladies
gonna go see Metallica or Englebert?....by and large
they will go for the soulful, pretty stuff.
When we make out our song list, do we make one in
three a slow one? Remember when you had a case of
young love and couldn't wait for a slow song to be
played so you could dance with "Her."? Mostly because
you couldn't dance fast?! In slow dancing, all you do
is kind of sway and shuffle those feet nonchalantly as
if you know what you're doing. You are sure to be liked
a lot if you can slow dance good!
How about, "I Want you, I Need you, I Love you"? "Love
Me Tender" or "In The Still of The Night?"...no way
you're gonna top that with "Shake, Rattle and Roll!"
as far as the ladies are concerned...."Oh, all they
wanna do is play that old fast stuff!" is what they
say.
Maybe they just don't appreciate the skill required to
do the fast stuff....do you reckon? I mean, if they
only knew how long you had practiced in front of a
mirror to get those steps down and pick at the same
time! How about that shoulder roll...did they even SEE
it? I can even play those "Boogie Bar" chords just
like Chuck!...do they notice? Why, heck no! They're
standing there lookin' at pretty boy over by the
KoolAid bowl...he can really SLOW dance! "Reckon he'll
ask me next time?"
Here I am sweating myself to death and they're
standing there talking about ....who knows what!
Us guys like action...not singing some draggy old slow
tune that bores you stiff to sing it!
Hey! There might be something in that last statement.
Once I played a party at Memorial Auditorium and
during a break, a lady who was almost immobilized by
too much Crown Royal grabbed my sleeve and said,"You
are playing for self gratification and couldn't care
less about what WE would like to..hiccup...hear!"
after which I had to hold her up or she would have
fallen.
Though she was a little Tipsy she hit me right where
it hurts! She was totally right!...doing exactly what
I was taught not to do as a youth. Bob Cox always made
us play to the crowd...feel 'em out and see what makes
them happy and causes them to have fun and then you
home in on it...give 'em what they want.
Good Ol' rockabilly music can be mighty stimulating
and exciting to play. Some of those songs can pull you
right up outta your seat and put you "Shakin' on the
sockhop floor"! It is great fun to dance or play to
that music...HOWEVER...
If we play a soft, slow, pretty song that says
something about love and kisses and a hundred other
sweet things, she might just smile at you and show
those dimples or pinch you on the cheek...
Shucks, I wouldn't mind being a little bored for
that!...would you?
July, 1999 -
Shootout!
I tell you it was, and still is,just like the old
west.
Here comes Pistol Pete...the fastest gun around. He's
ridin' on top of the world and everybody fears him and
shows due respect when he walks in.
Meantime, back at the ranch, little Junior is using
all that free time between plowing rows of cotton for
practicing. Finally he gets real fast and steps upon
old Betsy, lopes into town and calls out Pistol Pete
from the local club for a lead-ball conference in the
street.
A bolt of fear momentarily paralyzes Pete.."Could this
kid be faster than me?...is it possible?...Na-a-ah!
I'm the champ and I'll walk all over this chump!
Bartender, one stiff belt for a bracer!"
Two minutes later Baker Undertaker halls him off to
his shop for final measurements and a new king sits on
the throne. Unseen by humans, a small guardian angel
hovers over the corpse shouting," I told you so,
dagnabit...I TOLD you to practice!"
Django, Eddie Lang, Arthur Smith (Guitar Boogie), Les
Paul, Chet, Jimmy Bryant, Hank and other great
guitarists have all fallen to younger, faster heroes.
"Have you seen so-and-so play? Man, he's quicker than
greased lightnin'!" still can be heard in our town
among the local pickers.."Let's have a session and
invite him (The call-out)...we'll just pick some and
have a good old time!"(That way we'll see what he can
do).
Monday morning, about a half-a-dozen pickers can be
seen in various places around town with their tails
between their legs...shot down by some young upstart
who had been practicing like the devil.("What the
heck...I know more CHORDS than he does! How in the
heck did he play over those 7th chords?").
It will ever be so. Guys just can't shake that
competitive spirit..be it guitars or football.
I have often wondered, what a media event it would be
to have a CBS movie about a aging guitarist who has
lost his contract to some young, better and quicker
player. He goes off the deep end and kidnaps the new
star, hides him in a warehouse and invites a reporter
to witness a guitar-lick shoot-out at midnight...no
one else invited, except the camera. Maybe it would
star, say, Eddie Van Halen and Eric Johnson in the
leading roles.
The final 20 minutes would be uninterrupted by
commercials...let 'em go at it! It would probably be
too much for the human heart to stand!
I once saw Vince Gill, Albert Lee and Danny Gatton on
TV..all on the same stage...on cable (No Commercials).
For one solid hour thay played some of the greatest
guitar music I have ever heard. They all three were
awesome and I didn't for a moment wonder which was the
best......
But, I'll bet THEY did
I have some 12-15 year old students who will scare you
to death...chops coming outta their ears!
Ya'll better practice....someone's gaining on you!
Joe
June, 1999 -
Music and Saturday Afternoons
Saturday afternoon in 1953 in a hot little southern
town...mid July and not much wind to cool you
down....Some are cooling down up at Rainbow Lake with
its big, colorful jukebox on the patio outside the
dressing rooms by the concession stand where cats
could meet chicks and maybe (If they weren't too shy)
do a little shag barefooted on the sandy concrete to
the music of Ruth Brown or Ivory Joe.
Some folks enjoyed a stroll through the local
Woolworth's store and maybe spend a little cash or
have a really good pimento & cheese sandwich with a
glass of Coke at the lunch counter. The large fans
rotated slowly on the ceiling and the cash register
bells made some friendly music. Les Paul and Mary Ford
did their thing on "The World is Waiting For The
Sunrise" over at the record counter.
Another place that was quite popular was the local
music store.
In some circles it was considered "Sissy" to like
music and you had to be careful. The "Manly" guys
would stroll through the music store appearing to gaze
indifferently at the activities and instruments...but
deep down inside, they liked music and wished they
could play a guitar or banjo, whatever.
Others didn't give a rat's what people thought and
would come in and pick...man, how they would pick! You
could get a whole saturday afternoon's entertainment
for FREE! Crowds would gather around whoever might be
playing on one end of the store or someone on the
other side who might be tearing up a 5 string. Most
stores wouldn't let you touch an instrument without
the aid of a salesman.
One store was different. Maybe you've heard of
it ... Smith Music.
Born in the 40's as an appendage to a Pawn Shop, it
was a large spacious store with the typical wooden
floors,fans, large glass windows and not an over
abundance of light.
Mr. Abe Smith was the owner of that store in little
Spartanburg, S.C. (Not so little anymore, doggone it!)
He brought music into the area almost single handedly
because he made it possible for the working man to own
an instrument...he would wheel and deal and wouldn't
gouge the customers. If the guitar's retail price was
$75 you might could get it for $50 if you only asked.
He might even let you make payments on a set of drums
for your son. He took trade-ins and, in my opinion,
dearly enjoyed the haggling over what you should be
allowed for your used instrument.
Smith Music is where I saw my very first Fender
Stratocaster in about 1954-55. There it was in the
large glass window...resting in it's case. That little
white knob on the end of the Vibrato (Whammy) Bar was
so perfect and those little teeny,shiney bridges
looked so cool and the curves on that body! ...
Some Sundays, after church, Dad would take me by to
look at it through the window. If I could just touch
it! I had a Marathon with tiger stripes on the pick
guard and the strings were high ... one pickup! Oh! The
difference!(Harley Hawg vs, Honda 50).
When the Nashville bands came through, they would stop
at Smith's for strings and picks, etc. It was
comfortable in that old store and the store was well
know throughout the land.
Abe's son, Gerald took over ownership some years back
and it just got better and better. He too has helped
many a musician on his way by giving them a break on
price or terms when they needed it. And I can't
remember when Gerald wouldn't give you a smile.
Actually, Gerald is my boss now...it embarrasses him
for me to say "Hey, Boss..how's it going?"
Though he nor his dad ever played an instrument to my
knowledge, you could tell they loved music and would
enjoy it immensly when someone would sit down to play.
"Want to play that one? Go ahead...see how you like
it.Plug in one of those amps over there!" was commonly
heard.
The building is still there with the same old floors
that I walked on as a boy and the walls are still
there where those awesome guitars used to hang. The
large glass window still shows the wares for sale.
However, the music has stopped.
A new location a block or two to the the south houses
Smith Music now. The old store is a pawn shop on
Magnolia St. Gerald now runs a small financial
business
and owns Smith Music.
I'll bet that if you could get into that building late
at night while the city is sleeping and could sit in
the dark for a while you could hear music...from Hank
Garland, Toy Caldwell and many other pickers, great
and otherwise who have played there down through the
ages....on old Gibsons and Strats.
I'll also bet you had one like it in your hometown.
The times of those kinds of stores is nearing an
end.High pressure salesmen, slick finance plans and
slicker advertising all come into play nowadays.It is
a matter of survival, I guess. The competition is
fierce. I never thought I'd see the day when a Strat
would sell for $1300 plus when Dad bought my first one
for $289 with case!
Thanks to Smith's and all other stores just like it
around the country who have been friendly, kind and
helpful to the musicians and have made it possible for
them to reach their dreams, small and great, of being
able to play music.
And for those great summer, Saturday afternoons.
May, 1999 -
Putting Drums in the Picture
Sometime in the late 50's our band went to Nashville
to play on WSM with Johnny and Jack and a couple of
other acts. It was a Saturday AM performance and I saw
something there I had never seen before...nor have I
seen anything like it since.
The staff bass player had a stand-up doghouse with
various and assorted scratches, dents and other battle
scars but really sounded great.
But there was more.
Mounted on the top outside quarter on the front of the
bass was a piece of corrugated cardboard. As I
remember, there may have been a piece of thin foam or
other materiel underneath the cardboard and it was
taped in place...packaging tape? Could have been.
Now, as he played the bass, he had a drummer's brush
held in his right hand in a way that didn't impede his
ability to pluck the strings. He would pull the string
on beat number one and play the brush against the
cardboard on beat number two! This guy was indeed a
super-sideman!...drums and bass at the same time and
to tell the truth,it really sounded good.
You see, in those days drums were a fearsome thing in
the world of country music. I had heard that a drummer
was used a few times at the opry..behind the curtain
using a brush on a snare drum only! PA systems were
not advanced enough to mix in drums...they would over
ride the vocals and acoustic instruments. everyone had
the idea that drums meant BING BANG CRASH...not
compatible at all with country music.
I believe Elvis went with 3 pieces to the opry...Bill
Black, Scotty Moore and Elvis himself on rhythm. Many
of the early blues and rockabilly bands used hard
strumming guitars and slap-bass for the beat.
For me, those blazing triplets on "Hound Dog" opened
the eyes and ears of rock-lovers as to the
possibilities for drums being a key element in
rockabilly arrangements and not just a background
sound.
Soon you could hear the snare drums chattering on
rockabilly records everywhere.
In our own case, when I was 13-14, we had considered
adding a drum set to our country band but we actually
had some fairly serious arguments concerning it.
"Can't hear the mandoline" or "That brassy sound just
takes away from the country feel'...that kind of
stuff.
But folks were starting to do the "Bop" and it was
inevitable...R&B was going to merge with C&W!
Thanks to the advancement in PA technology it became
possible to get a pleasing mixture and the marriage
between drums, guitars and bass was successful to the
joy of all of us who love the music.
Ray Price used drums in his great country band and got
away with it which set the pattern for the future of
country music.
More instruments have invaded the country-rock
sound...how about Merle Hagard with a sax or T-bone?
Danny Davis and the Nashville Brass? Ole Yakitty sax
Boots Randolph?
It boils down to one thing...there are 2 kinds of
music...Good and Bad!...Rock, Country, Jazz, Classics
all have their goods and bads.
I for one love to hear those drums cooking in my band.
After all, it's that BEAT that puts 'em on the dance
floor...right?
I always encouraged Jimmy to do solos in the Tones
programs. Our first national appearance on the Ted
Mack original Amatuer Hour (Available at the library
of comgress on video) shows it too. Jimmy nailed a
great solo and put the spunk in our music.
I know that there are jokes going around these days
about drummers being a "Special" breed...but please
ignore them. Drummers are really cool!
Do you know how to tell if a drummers stool is
level?....
See ya' next time...
Joe
April, 1999 -
Pickin' Up Those Licks
"Taught myself!"..."Never had a lesson in my life!"...
Did you ever hear that statement? Sure you have! It is
designed to show the high level of intelligence
possessed by some of those who make music on an
instrument...guitar, bass, keyboard or whatever. It's
aim is to impress upon us,of lower degree of
intellect, that THEY, by use of their sly engenuity,
have mastered that instrument without ANY outside
assistance whatsoever! Period.
Ha! - Let's start with Aunt Bertha who let junior bang on
her old Gibson flat top and TAUGHT him how to tune
it.She also knew a few chords and showed him where to
put his little fingers, as well as consoling him when
they got sore and assured him that they would toughen
up in a few short weeks.
Hey! What do you mean "Aunt Bertha doesn't count?" She
TAUGHT you didn't she, Junior?
Then there was Bill in junior high who could play bar
chords and a few hot licks (Wonder where HE got 'em
from?)...you watched, Junior! You stood up close and
even asked questions..."Hey, man...what was that you
did up around fret 5?...something with your little
finger...?"...Bill showed you...no, TAUGHT you how to
do it.
How about those times you stood at the foot of the
stage and watched some older guys play...you memorized
all the licks you possibly could and couldn't wait to
get home to try them out....and they worked!...
No, Junior, YOU didn't make them up...you copied by
observation....you were TAUGHT...
Get the point?
I don't know about you but I am really glad I had a
teacher to help my when I was young. His name was
Jerome.
Jerome Fowler -- He lived in Clifton, S.C...a little mill village in
Spartanburg county. He had been on broadway with the
big boys back in the 30's and 40's...knew such people
as Eddie Lang and others who were stars in those days.
An auto accident left him unable to move his left
forearm out more than 45 degrees from his torso so he
played mandoline instead of guitar. That did not
diminish his teaching ability, though.
He taught everyone in the local area...Hank Garland
for one. Ever hear of him? One of the really great
innovative jazz players of our time.
As he taught, he would relate some of the things that
happened back in the old days...some comical, some
shocking...things we never heard of that happened in
big cities.
His specialty was the Gibson Guitar Course.
It took me 3 years to finish it. It came in 4 volumes.
He laughed at my thumb pick on the first
lesson..."Hard to do up strokes with that thing!"..I
switched to one like he used.
Yeah, he was a note reader and insisted that you read
'em too. "Heck, I don't want to read notes," I
thought.
But they sure came in handy when having to write
arrangements for jingles or sound tracks or even in
teaching my own students. Just like he said they
would.
"You're never gonna have any speed playing all down
strokes with that pick, son." He was right. He knew
all the things I needed to know and though I tried to
absorb it all, I'll never know all that he knew.
In later years, I went to see him occasionally. He
would be there at his house with a group of aspiring
musicians of all ages and a big smile on his face.
"Come on in, son ,and pick one with us!" We would play
"Bye Bye Blues", "The World Is Waiting For The
Sunrise", "Alabama Jubilee" and many more.
Sparky Childress also took from him and finished the
course.
The licks we play now are loaded with the musical
genes of Jerome Fowler.He allowed us the freedom to
take flight and to create our own stuff with the tons
of theory he taught.
Never will your's truly say he was self taught. I am
proud to sat that Jerome was a really big and
important part of my life.His lessons were so
interesting, my Dad attended every lesson I took from
him.
We all have our Clayton Delaneys, don't we?
It happened in a thousand other towns. From Les Paul
to Jimi Hendrix, those kids played their style and
their music because someone had the time and patience
to put that little finger on the right string and say,
"Don't worry. They won't be sore for too long." It
still goes on today.
Somewhere out there.....
I'll bet they would get a kick out of it if we went by
sometime, put our arm around her shoulder and said,
"Thanks, Aunt Bertha!"
Joe
March, 1999 -
NYC
Country boys in the Big City have always been a subject for movies,
songs and just discussion in general. "How ya' gonna keep 'em down on the farm after
they've seen Paree!?"
Our first trip to the Big Apple was in a vintage DC-3 (The Military
name was affectionately "Gooney Bird"}and it was our first time in the
air. Sparky was 13 and I was 17...Jim and Wayne were in the middle.
Nervous parents watched as their little ones exceeded the 100 MPH mark
and lifted off into the morning sky going north to Yankee
land...southern accent and all!
Fortunately no one got sick and the flight went off with out a hitch.
The hitches came later.
After getting our baggage,we went to the entrance at Newark Airport
where it was easy to hail a cab...they were lined up and couldn't
escape! So a driver accepted out Bull Fiddle which was safely strapped
on top of the car. It took two taxis for all our stuff and we were off
to the Sheraton Astor Hotel just off Time Square in NYC.. Let me say
right here and now that in later years we trimmed back a heck of a lot
on expenses!
We got wierd looks as the entourage maneuvered through the Lobby with
amps on the carts and that darn bass fiddle.
At the desk we said," How ya'll today?" to the desk clerk and he
looked like he'd been punched with a cattle prod. "Pardon me?" he said
in an accent I'd never heard before, except maybe on television which
was very new in those days. You know, it takes some getting used to!
Needless to say we got lots of giggles and looks over our southern
accent. We quickly learned to go along with the fun and just enjoy it.
Hey! We were on THEIR turf!
Ever try to get in a slightly crowded elevator with a bass fiddle?
Wherever you go with it,or amps and guitars, people KNOW. Some people
think being a musician is great stuff...others have a totally
different opinion!
Once, a lady said to us,"The nerve of you singing Black Slacks with
the crotch hanging down to the knees!" and walked off in a huff. The
real line is "...with a cat chain down to the knees."
Late one rainy night,just off Broadway, we had finished a rehearsal
and were tired, hungry and needed to get back to the hotel. We stood
under a sheltered entrance and one guy would,upon spotting a cab, run
to the curb and try to flag him down. Would they stop? No-o-o-! We
couldn't figure it out! They had been anxious to help us at times.
Maybe they were going to a pre-called fare.
Over and over we tried...no way was there that many pre-called fares!
Then we figured it out...that dadburned Bull Fiddle! They didn't want
to have to mess with it...especially in the rain! So then we put Wayne
and the Bass
"back in the alley"...sure enough! We got a cab! THEN Wayne came out
from the alley not to the pleasure of the Cabbie! We made it back and
still discuss that episode to this day.
We learned to love New York. In those days you could go down on 42nd
street and see double features for an outrageously low price. We would
walk back at midnight and about all we'd be confronted with would be
some guy trying to sell rings and watches. Man, that papaya juice at
those little fruit stands on Broadway was outstanding!
Rockabilly was hot in NYC in those days (Buddy Holly made a
heck-of-a-smash) and if you ever got one of your records cooking up
there you were pretty much assured of national success.
Allen Freed ruled in those days as far as DJ's went. He was on WINS, I
believe, and had some great live shows at places like the State
Theatre in Hartford, Conn...Paramaount in NY, etc. You could see Chuck
Berry, Bo Diddly, The Flamingos, Paul Anka, Connie Francis...all on
the same show...try that nowadays!
One last thing...we went to Coney Island and rode that monster roller
coaster. Then, we went for a hot-dog. Now, a hot dog is a very
personal thing. I mean you get it the way you want it, at least down
south here. "All the way" means mustard, chili and onions. "All the
way" to that hot dog vendor at Coney Island meant weenee on a a bun
and you put the goodies on. Did I say "Goodies?" Let's see...you had
sauerkraut(Yuk), relish (Double yuk), some kinda mustard that was a
liver colored yellow with little black dots in it or catsup. Now,
folks...everybody knows catsup is for French Fries!
Good thing we had those hotdogs AFTER we rode the coaster!
We love New York..even to this day and hope to return someday to check
it out again.
Someone even told me the other day that some mayor had made it so you
can walk down on 42nd street now and Time Square has Disney all over
the place!
Sure would like to take that old Bass and our guitars to New York again.
Joe Bennett
February, 1999 -
The Itch
How many times have we said to ourselves,"Man that music stuff is for
the kids...think I'll go get a real job...enough is enough."(?) Then
we pack up the old Strat and stash it in the closet and enter the
"real" world of business, high finance, blue collar work or something.
At first we kind of like this new way of going...an income you can
count on every 2 weeks...you can actually make plans for some future
project like vacations, etc.! Man! What have we been missing?! New
friends who have their feet on the ground. Stable individuals who are
so mature and full of common sense.
It gives you a firm family life. Your wife is actually able to
formulate a budget that will work and you're all wearing decent
clothes for a change! And what a feeling to NOT have those collectors
calling or even knocking on your door!
The Boss says," We're having a little get-together for all employees
at the club next saturday night...see you there." Hey! For another
change, we are going to BE entertained instead of going through that
high pressure stuff of getting set up and tuned, sound check
and all the preparations for a performance....let someone ELSE do it!
My turn to enjoy!
You are barely good company for your wife and friends and tend to
ignore them as you are engrossed in the band and how they are doing
things.
Then, the inevitable,"Frank, I heard you play guitar...get up there
and do one!"
"Oh, no, I can't man! I don't know their stuff!....I
mean,...well,...if you insist!"
Before you know it you are up there nailing some hot licks as their
lead man gives you the evil eye! Man, this is great!
Everyone pats you on the back and tells you how great you played "Walk
This Way" and you are in heaven...?
You know, we all like to "Scratch our itch" at times, no matter how
long it's been. My Dad always said," You've got it in your blood, boy.
It,ll be there forever."
I tried to run from it once when I was about 20. Joined the Air Force,
became an Air Traffic Controller,got sent to Madrid, Spain for 3 years
and just wanted to be 'one of the boys'. Left the Strat at home with
parents in South Carolina.
About 3 months into my stay in Madrid, I was at the NCO club on "Sit
in" night. I got up and made a fool outta myself. The wanted me to
join the band. It was a few GI's who enjoyed playing. The year was 1961.
I wrote home and asked Dad to send the old strat over (With amp) which
he did. I started a little group called "Joe and The Jaguars" and we
landed a recording contract with Hispavox records! We also backed up
some of Spain's stars like "Karina"...doing Hully Gully music.
Our drummer was a kid named Mickey Hart...first rock band he ever
played in. Of course he later was one of the drummers for The Grateful
Dead and has written books and done movie sound tracks. He is one of
the best with sticks I have ever known.
I stayed in The Air Force for 11 years and played in bands the whole
time...even in Nam. A little band called the "Country Cousins" at Nha
Trang AFB. Berlin, "The Brass Door" and others I can't remember.
So you Rockabillies who want to lay it down and forget it, go ahead.
Run away from it.... But I say ,"Don't sell that old Strat. You never
know when you might.......need to scratch that itch!"
Joe Bennett
January, 1999 -
The Guitar on the Wall
He walked into the music store and looked up at the guitar on the wall
A man of years and yesterdays whose heroes were Chet Atkins and Les Paul
A young man said," Good evening, sir, can I help you?" And he studied the old man
"I wonder if you'd be so kind to let me hold that guitar in my hand"
The salesman hooked the guitar up and stood by as the old man tuned the strings
And then the calloused fingers hit a chord the young man knew he'd never seen
The shoppers gathered round him, this man in overalls and tattered shoes
He worked his magic on that guitar and played it all, from country, jazz to blues
"He could have picked in Nashville! How come he never made it?" said the crowd
His cold, gray eyes upon them, he laid the guitar down and stood up proud
He said," I gave it up for Alice,
She didn't like for me to play
A guitar man can't raise a family
Pickin'' nights and sleepin' days
She made me stay away from Dallas
I guess she knew I'd lose control
I'd like to play some more guitar
But she's waitin' in the car
So I guess I'd better go
Yeah, I gave it up for Alice
She said that pickin' had to go
She never understood how music
Gets a man down in his soul
She knows sometimes I get the fever
And some pickin' cures it all
And so every now and then
I let Alice bring me in
To play the guitar on the wall
I'll bet that many of you can relate to that. I personally have known
many who have had that problem and always felt sad for them.
Now, ladies...it works vice-versa also and I have seen that situation so
please know, I am not picking on girls by any means!
I wrote this around 1981 and thought you might enjoy it. It actually is a
song.
I, for one, have really enjoyed the new CD from Bob at Rockabilly hall.
Some super picking on there and enthusiasm that pulls you right into each
song. I am glad you reminded me of how much fun rockabilly music really
is. I think we all should give Bob Timmers a hand for the hustle and energy
he puts into the HOF and it's associated projects. Thanks, man!
Best Wishes to all of you for success in the coming year!
Joe Bennett
December, 1998 -
WRITIN' ROCK
A friend from Finland fired off a tape of various European rockabilly
Cats to me sometime back. Impatiently I slid it into my player, pushed
the PLAY button and listened up to see how far the mother-country's kids
had come in playing the raw rockabilly sound.
Doggone, they were great! They covered every style of old-time rock and
roll sublimely and played some new licks this ol' cat never heard or
thought of! Included was a cut of Matchbox doing our "Black Slacks"
better than we did. They really had fun with the B-B-B-B-B-....part! What
an honor to have a group of that caliber play your stuff. Thanks you
guys!
Some of the takes were live in concert or clubs and what really got my
attention was the crowd reaction and participation. You could tell that
they genuinely enjoyed and appreciated the skills of the musicians and
the type of music. The musicians showed genuine appreciation for the
audiences.
Did you ever stop to think that simplicity is the heart of rockabilly and
that enables non-musician types to participate in singing along with our
music and even non-pro guitar guys to hit our licks. Everyone can sing
along with 'Be Bop-a-Lula" or "You ain't nothin' but a hound dog...."
Look at it this way.
Do you like opera sung in Italian or a broadway play in English...a
language we here in the States relate to? How about.."Start spreadin' the
news, I'm leaving today...brand new start...Old New York..", etc...
The Boss was successful because he sang songs in the language of the
working man.
We, as writers and artists, are faced with the challenge of relating to
our audiences. What do they like? What is the key to a hit recording?
What are we gonna open with tonite? How can we become their buddies in
the first 3 minutes of the show? Two fast and one slow...will that get
it? In my opinion If we don't ask ourselves those questions, we are in
the wrong business. Yeah, we may dress and act like the "Bad Boys" but in
our hearts we want the acceptance and participation of the crowd.
Our manager always said,"If only 3 people are in the audience, they
deserve to see your very best...they paid to see you!"....he saw to it
that we gave 100% every gig.
Elvis gave at least that much.
In a nutshell, you gotta love people and give 'em your best in writing,
performing and any interaction we have them. Rockabilly music is a great
way to show that feeling you have for your audience......
Once at The Turf restaurant of the 50's on Broadway in New York, a very
solid sax player approached me and asked for some bucks for a meal. I
said OK and asked if he wasn't playing some gigs...he said "No" because
he wasn't going to play that "stupid" commercial stuff. I often wondered
if he ever learned to play to the people so he could make a living.
What a joy to get paid for doing something you really love, like playing
music and when the crowd leaves, you feel like you gave them what they
came for.
Happy Holidays from all The Tones and may your New Year be a great one!
Joe
November, 1998 -
JOE DEAN (JOEY) HAYWOOD
"Round and round she goes and where she stops, no one knows!"
That was always the beginning line issued by Ted Mack of The Original
Amatuer Hour. It always brought a tense anticipation to the show and
everyone became anxious and excited about who would perform and who would
win. Just to be on that show was always a neat thing whether you won or
not.
I don't know the names of all those on the show who later became pros and
went on to recording contracts and stuff but there were quite a few.
We showed up in the winter of '56 after getting through an audition
(There were many of those in our life). At the audition we performed with
local groups from our home town.
One was Joe Dean (Joey) Haywood. This kid was awesome and could sing Sam
Cook songs better than Sam himself. He was backed by a group called The
Dobbs which had a couple of beat up saxes, old set of drums, no bass and
an elderly lady on piano. I can't remember if they had a guitar. It
really didn't make any difference...Joey was the cake and everything else
was just the icing. I can still see him up there pushing that little band
on and rocking that crowd. He did the best with what he had and struck
fear in the hearts of all the competitors that night at the Spartanburg
Memorial Auditorium. It was a very, very tight competition...we barely
squeaked by. I was sorry that they couldn't win too.
We would see Joey frequently about town and I always enjoyed talking to
him about the music business and how he was doing. He told me once that
he was writing some stuff. Later he had a hit called "Let Me Wrap You In
My Warm and Tender Love" which brought some measure of success . Joey was
also a gospel performer.
About a year down the road from those days we struck a little pay dirt
with Black Slacks and made it to The Sullivan show where we actually
performed with The Real Sam
Cook . I wondered if Joey was watching.
Rockabilly was not Joey's cup of tea, I am sure but he would always
compliment us on
our records and performances. I was always his biggest fan.
I often wondered how much Joey's kind of music (The southern Black gospel
sound)
influenced my own writing.We had several unreleased tunes that had a
little Cook sound with a touch of blues. Wonder if our drummer, Jim
Denton, picked up any licks from The Dobbs that night? How much did
Joey's vocal stylings effect Wayne, the best vocalist in our group?
I believe that a little bit of all the music you hear rubs off on you.
After coming back to Carolina 6 years ago, I tried to find Joey. No one
that I asked knew where he was. It turns out, I just didn't ask the right
people.
Flipping through the newspaper about a year ago, I saw his picture....in
the obituary section. His daughter and I had a meeting. She looks like
Joey and sings like him.
One regret I have is that I never got to do a track with Joe Dean
Haywood. I think that is really why I wanted to find him...maybe pen a
song together and go in the studio and lay it down.
Catch you later, Joey.
October, 1998 -
LOW-TONE MAGIC
There are 2 small factories in St. Louis which shared a large air
conditioning unit between them. A new compressor was installed and within
a few weeks some of the workers started having strange internal
problems...spleen, stomach, pancreas, hemorrhaging, etc.
The problem was later discovered to be a vibration that was set up by the
new compressor and on a frequency that was inaudible to the workers. It
was literally shaking their innards apart!
Makes you wonder about those sub-woofers in cars and trucks today...or
maybe standing in front of a bass amp during a gig...could that be
deadly?
But, doggone it, when you are a bass nut such as I, it sure would be hard
to give up those vibes! I mean...I wouldn't play in a band without a bass
player...would you? Why, heck, that's what drives those boogie licks
right down to your shoes! I mean, the contrast between the bass and the
high screamin' guitar notes and the rythym guitar sandwiched in between
them is what makes our kinda music so tasty. It's like the hot fudge
sauce over the cold vanilla ice cream...that contrast is what makes it so
good.
In the beginning of rockabilly music, we had to strain to hear a smidgen
of bass...that low thump with a tone...that foundation to build
everything else on...
The old Kay standups were what most folks played and if the screws were
tight you could get a good clean sound but the real low tones were barely
audible. Even in the studios, the technology had not progressed to the
point where you could hear every little lick.
But you could sit back and hear some good slappin' bass that kind of
made up for the lost tones. Our bass player, Wayne Arthur, could slap
with the best of them and that was an added dimension to the sound. We
would feature him with lots of solos in our stage shows. The best slap
bass I have heard lately is on The Dimaggios Brothers album....he is
awesome.
Then came a song by Gene Vincent ("Wella, Wella...") with electric
bass....man, it was talking and you could hear every note...on top of
that, you held it like a guitar! The Fender electric bass sound was born.
I am sure others were using electrics, but that was the first one I can
remember hearing.
Of course, we went into the electric bass sound with The Sparkletones and
it was sheer joy to be able to hear all those notes.
I teach my students to "Chase the bass" when trying to lift a song from a
CD and some of them say, "I can't hear it."...but when I take the bass
out, they all say,'Hey, something is missing."...we just accept it as
part of the whole sound of a band...and anyone can tell if there is no
bass in the band.
You bass players, you are invaluable to all of us who enjoy rockabilly
music,,,I want you to know how much I appreciate you skills and presence
and you are highly valued by other musicians. If you don;'t believe it,
check the bulletin board in your local music store under the "Musicians
Wanted" section and see which instrument is the one in demand the most.
So, whether you wear rings to make the click, play stand-up or
electric,...we love you, man!
A good bass player is always working.
September, 1998 -
AN OLD LETER TO A FRIEND - 8 Nov. 57
Dear Donnie,
Hope all you guys are fine back there. I know it has been a while since I
wrote but, to tell the truth, sometimes I don't even know which town
we're in. Things move so fast in this business...wish I had a nickle for
every hamburger I've eaten in the last 6 months.
Bob got a '55 caddy and we still use the old Desoto limo with our names
painted on the side. We have a little more room now so we can blow up an
air mattress, flop it on top of the instruments in the back and sack out
while someone else does the driving. I hate those midnite to four shifts
though. Two nites ago I was sleeping when something woke me up. I asked
Wayne, "What was That?"
He said, "What?"
I Said,"That noise!"
He said, "A mailbox."
That rascal had gone to sleep...! These one-niters are rough.
I read somewhere that Fender is going to start putting reverb on some of
their amps! I can't wait for that! Have you still got your Les Paul? My
old Stratocaster is still going strong though it doesn't look too
good...pickup covers are starting to split on the ends. Wonder what makes
them do that?
We played in Belmar, New Jersey (I think that's how you spell it) last
nite. Man, the PA system was awful...people in the club couldn't hear the
vocals, had to turn down so low we could hardly hear ourselves. You know
how club owners are...get mad if you're too loud. We never know how the
PA system is going to be from one day to the next.
Last week we played in Kingston, N.Y. at Pat McConnels and man they had a
PA that wouldn't quit. We rocked that place! Wish you could have seen it.
Toronto was good at The Edison Hotel...we always enjoy that place...good
sound.
I Wish I could have been there for the Prom, Don...you know how it
is...but to tell you the truth, I miss those Friday nite football games
and the fun we used to have...I remember going 100 mph in that Old Pink
Pontiac on the road to Lake Bowen. Scared me to death!
Our record is doing pretty good and it looks like we might be going to
the west coast soon.
Gotta go change my strings and get ready for tonite...I hope we're gonna
rock Rome, Georgia. Jerry Lee was here last week.
Take care, Buddy
Joe
P.S. The right rear window was on the blink. We couldn't get it up and
ran into a thunderstorm on a turnpike in VA...the boys in the back dug
out the old soap bars from various hotels we kept in the glove
compartment, removed their shirts, and proceeded to lather up and
bathe...turnpike drivers found it pretty amusing! You gotta be crazy!
August, 1998 -
PEACE IN THE VALLEY
"Well, I'm tired and so weary, but I must travel on
Til the Lord comes to call me, call me away...Oh, Yeah..."
These lyrics are from a song called "Peace in The Valley"..standard
southern gospel and has been around for many years and, as I remember it,
Red Foley had the first big hit on it. It is still a gospel gem.
The chord progression to Peace in the Valley was used in many other songs
of the Rockabilly genre...G,E7,A7,D7 back to G. As a matter of fact, it
is difficult to work that progression into something pop or rock.
No doubt about it, southern gospel has had a strong influence on
Rockabilly and southern rock music (Skynard, Allmans, Tucker,
etc.)...ever hear Elvis sing Peace in the Valley? It was made for him and
he was made BY it...to me, Elvis was gospel all the way...the music we
all heard down here on Sunday mornings before church and AT church came
through in his stylings.
All you have to do is listen to "I'll Fly Away" or "Gospel Boogie" to
hear strong
measures of rhythms and harmonies common to the Rockabilly music we all
love.
Stir in a little country feel and strengthen the back-beat a little and
you've got it.
Did Rockabilly come to screechin' halt somewhere in the the 60's...did
it morph into southern rock in the 70's?...what the heck happened?
Naaaa! No screechin' halt...no metamorphosis...just sittin' on simmer for
a while! Is it true that Rockabilly festivals are happenin' around the country
nowadays? I know they are in Europe and HOW!
So what do we do?...
Look, people like to dance, Man!...just give em something to dance
to....something that pulls them right up outta their seat and gets them
to shakin' and havin' fun DANCIN"!...
Young people have more energy than they know what to do with...even some
of us old dudes can still boogie on the floor with gusto!
By the way, you can see a lot of that shakin' and dancing down here on
Sunday morning in some churches!...the kind Elvis went to.
-Joe
P.S. My friend Paul Riddle, who is the original drummer for the Marshall
Tucker Band says, "What is everybody so mad about? Let's get happy and
let our music be fun for people to hear and see!"..right on Paul!
July, 1998 -
The JAMBORETTES
In about '54 or '55, the neighbor kids and I had a little group called
The Jamborettes...Ronnie, Jerry and Priscilla Cooksey, Jan Medley ( A
Cooksey cousin) and Jimmy Lee, a school pal and I, formed the group and
just for funsies, had a Saturday night Jamboree. It was situated in The
Cooksey back yard beside Cannons Campground Road, a main thouroughfare in
the county...we were mainly farm and cotton mill folks. We borrowed the
Cannons elementary school PA system, knocked the bottom out of a couple
of buckets and placed light bulbs in them for spotlights, tuned up and
started playing on a Saturday night...just for funsies.
One memorable night as I opened wide to sing "Your Cheatin' Heart"...a
big moth flew into my mouth and I pert near choked to death!...one of the
hazards of performing outside at night in the country...
Anyway, cars started stopping for a listen and parked in the Cooksey's
yard. After a tune, they would honk instead of applaud. This drew
attention around the community so everyone else came to see what all the
ruckus was about. It looked like a drive-in movie, cars huddled around
that little stage in the Cooksey's back yard with an outhouse about 30
yards away in the background..some would walk and bring their folding
chairs. I can still see it. Just kids playing for funsies.
After a few Saturday nights, parking became a problem so they parked
along the highway in large numbers. The highway patrol and county
sheriff' s deputies came to
assist. Yes, we passed the hat at the midway point and around $20 was the
average take. Eventually, other more mature and skilled musicians came to sit
in with the band. We learned a lot from them.
The years unfolded and we grew to high school age and went our separate
ways...marriage, school, military or whatever.
When I see my old friends, The Cookseys, Jim or Jan, we speak of the good
old days when some kids got together and played for funsies.
Rockabilly Roots? Funsies!
P.S.. Wish I still had that old Strat I played back then.
-Joe Bennett
June, 1998 -
DREAM COME TRUE
In 1949, as I remember it, I saw my first live band in a little country
schoolhouse in Cannons Campground which is in the Spartanburg, S.C. area.
Edney (Smokey) Reese played a massive doghouse bass, Hubert Chapman on
guitar and vocals (Mostly Hank Williams stuff) and I think there was a
fiddler along with another piece or two. Smokey could slap it and make
that bass talk. In real life, he was a cotton mill worker, Hubert, a
carpenter. I was awestruck at the sight and sound of that band!
Later, I saw a kickin' little combo at the fair one autumn in
Spartanburg. They were out in front of a tent on the midway and were
playing for a Hootchie Cootchie show.... black musicians who could sure
enough play and were just fantastic. I believe that was the first time I
ever saw a set of drums being played up close where I could really tell
what was happening with the hands and feet.
It made an indelible mark in my mind.
In about 1953 or '54, I begged for and recieved permission to go see
Little Jimmy Dickens at the State theater in Spartanburg. My little
buddy, Howard Childress and I went and it was a turning point in my life.
Good Grief!....TWO lead players' plus Buddy Emmons on steel, playing jazz
and and country kickin' licks IN 3 PART HARMONY! I wish I knew the names
of those other pickers...played 2 black Gretsch Duo-Jets. I believe one's
name was Jimmy Wilson though I can't be sure. That experience set me on
fire.
Jimmy Dickens always had a GREAT band...just grab one of his old cuts
like "Old Cold Tater" and feast on the musicianship. I wanted to play
like that.
Little did Howard and I know that someday we would be in front of an
audience like that playing the music we loved.
My Dad, Penny Bennett and Mom, Mrs. Ella Bennett, were both
musicians..mom a piano teacher and Dad a shower singer...mostly blue
grass or country gospel tunes.
So, here were the ingredients to form a dream of having a band someday .
It is amazing how they came together to form The Sparkletones...the
slapping bass, drums and harmonies on vocals and, at times, lead guitar
licks.
Thanks to all those great musicians who gave a little kid such joy and
inspiration. I buy every Buddy Emmons tape I can get my hands on.
-Joe Bennett
May, 1998 -
"GIMMIE AN 'E'"
Probably it started with a "E" chord...a deep-tone, clear, spectral "E"
chord. It is most used in songs such as "One Night With You" (Elvis) or
"Baby What You Want Me to Do"...there is something about that sound that
people will pay to hear...that Old Ching-ching sound of an "E" chord. It
seems to have the quality of an infinite ring. And, all that depth! And,
man!...you put on a new set of wires (Strings) and listen to that "E"
chord sing! It even sounds good on a cheap guitar! What would the world
be like with it? How could we play "Honky Tonk"?...I mean, everyone plays
"Honky Tonk" but it wouldn't be the same without that "E" chord, no way!
"E" chords and guitars go together like 'lasses and buttered biscuits on
a cold winter morning. Then why don't piano players and Sax and trumpet players
like the key of
"E"? It is so easy on the guitar. As a matter of fact, on any given day,
when a guitar picker walks into a music store, takes a guitar down from
the wall and sits down to it, the first thing he will do is strum a good
old "E" chord.
From Bayou Blues to City Rock, from Gospel to Country, and I'll bet even
to old Wolfgang Amadeus, the "E" chord is a treasure to be stroked,
carressed , janged or plunked at our leisure and for our pleasure.
And it is the staple of Rockabilly music.
Thanks, "E"./ Joe Bennett
April, 1998 -
ROOTS
Not too many years ago, I ordered a video of one of my favorite
guitartsts, Albert Lee. I had been a fan for may years but didn't know a
lot about Albert...only that he could really play a guitar and that his
styling had that true, down-home southern feel to it.
Finally, it arrived and I anxiously hit the play button on the VCR to
see one of my music heroes. He came on with "Country Boy" and I mean he
smoked it and it had all the spanks and accents that only a southern
stylist would play...man what a picker!
"Probably from Tennesee'" I thought.
When it was over he says, "'ello. 'ow ah you, I'm Albert Lee."
I says,"Good Grief! A British guy! How did he copy that feel?"
What a shock!
And then, I remembered my days in Europe in The USAF and all the super
musicians I had seen and then I thought," Wait a minute! Who are we in
America anyway?" We are transplants from all over the world! That's who!
How about the skittle bands from the British Isles and those great
tapping rhythms of the Irish Jigs (Riverdance, etc)...the wonderful
preciseness and demand for practice from Deutschland, not to mention the
chord progressions in those classics that have influenced our modern
music so much. We are familiar with the happy sounds from Austria and
Norweigen folk influences and melodic sounds from The Netherlands,
Denmark, sweden...how about guitar virtuosity from Spain and compelling
rhythms from African drummers and the chants and phrasings from the Latin
countries...put 'em all together and what do you get?...the wonderful
rockabilly sounds of today.
Thank you, world, for the great ingredients that make the recipe for our
favorite music!
It is truly a world music.
E-MAIL: joebennettguitar@yahoo.com
JOE BENNETT AND THE SPARKLETONES
FAN CLUB
737 Bethesda Rd.
Spartanburg, S.C. 29302
