It Was 1980! The Specials Were Doing Their First US Tour & We Were Publishing The First Issue Of Idol Worship: An Interview With Sir Horace Gentleman

Originally printed in Idol Worship #1 (May 1980)
Interview by Devorah & Joey

Devorah interviews Sir Horace Gentleman for Idol Worship #1

Photo: Vicki Berndt

The Specials were in the Bay Area awhile back, playing their "special" brand of reggae to packed halls. After we'd attended several of their shows, Sir Horace Gentleman was nice enough to let us interview him following the show at the S.F. Warfield Theater.

IDOL WORSHIP: Did you expect this big of a response in America?

HORACE: Not at all. I was very worried because reggae doesn't seem to have taken off here. I kept imagining that someone would come up to us and say, "It's alright, but your rhythm guitarist is playing a beat behind."

IW: How would you define the type of music you play?

H: It's dance music, based on early Jamaican music, which is SKA.

IW: Is there a large reggae or SKA scene in England?

H: There is now. We just had a number one single in the singles charts!

Chrysalis advert for the debut album

IW: Which one?

H: It's a live EP which was recorded on our last tour, with "Too Much Too Young," "Guns of Navarone," and a medley on the other side.

IW: What size halls do you guys play back in England?

H: On our last tour, it was these size halls [Warfield] and bigger — but without seats in! That was one of our prime considerations, that there would be no seats on the dance floor and that there would be no restrictions as far as age.

IW: Where did you get the band's name from?

H: We used to be called the Automatics, and then the Coventry Automatics, because we heard of a band in London called the Automatics and they had a record deal. We were offered some gigs on tour with the Clash in England in 1978, and the day we were to do the first show, we got a letter from the London Automatics' lawyer saying, "You are not to use the word 'Automatics' in your name or else you will be sued." So, we had like four hours to sort of change the name. We just threw some names around in the van and decided about five miles from the gig that it would be THE SPECIALS.

IW: How long did it take before everyone said, "Hey, this is great!"

H: About March or April of last year, it started to get good. We finally got "Gangsters" released — we released it ourselves, by an organization called Rough Trade.

IW: When did Chrysalis pick up the group?

H: After "Gangsters" was released. We met Rick, who's our manager, and he got our record out to the DJs. In England, there's a late-night show, done by a bloke called John Peel. He plays independent singles and new wave stuff four nights a week, and he played "Gangsters" a hell of a lot! Then it crossed over to the daytime DJs, and then it became one of the DJs "Records of the Week." Then we did some gigs in London and people began to take some interest, and then the record company thing started. Chrysalis was just the best of the bunch. We said, "We want our own label; we want to sign other bands onto this label and we want total control over it." It really got silly towards the end. WEA were ringing us up saying, "This Chrysalis deal, we'll double it." It was bonkers!

IW: How did you decide to do your promotions in black and white?

H: We were blessing the '60s, sort of the mods and skinheads. It's not just the mods and skinheads, but a complete mixture of styles. Black and white was kind of like pop art and op art. All of the mods used to have black and white checks on the handlebars of their scooters, so the black and white checks came in that way. Black and white was very simple. Plus, as far as the LP cover goes, it was cheaper. We could've had a full-color sleeve, but the album would have cost a bit more.

IW: Is it true that you guys don't like the London scene? That you want to stay in Coventry?

H: Yeah. Brad, our drummer, is the only one who lives in London. I tend to get complacent. The reason I don't want to live in London is because one day I looked in the paper and saw I could go to see the Talking Heads at the Hammersmith Palais, the Jam at the Rainbow, the Bodysnatchers at the Windsor Castle, and so on. But I get really complacent. So, we all live in Coventry, where nothing happens. But when something does happen, it's great! It becomes a major event. I like it there. There are people there who know me as a van driver, which was the job I had before I joined the band. And they keep saying, "When are you going to get a decent job?" That keeps your feet on the ground, which I think is important.

IW: What kind of music do you guys like to listen to?

H: When I'm off the road, I listen to anything but reggae, blues, and SKA. No, that's not true. Everyone has very individual tastes. I'm into sort of old Tamla-Motown. I don't know what the other people listen to.

IW: How does the English scene differ from the American scene?

H: The English scene picked up a lot faster. If a band is good, it travels very quickly by word of mouth. London is like the nerve center of England. Perhaps in America, it's split a bit between New York and Los Angeles. I don't know if you'd agree with that or not.

The Specials with SVT at Tresidder Ballroom

Stanford, California - February 15, 1980

IW: Yeah. Have you guys done any TV shows, like Top of the Pops?

H: Yeah. We've done TOTP and the Whistle Test.

IW: Did you hear what happened when they played your record on American Bandstand?

H: "Gangsters"? Someone said it was too punk!

IW: Yeah. Some girl from Texas said, "It's too punk! I can't dance to it."

H: Can't dance to it... That's ridiculous!

IW: That's what we said!

H: That's funny. It makes me laugh.

IW: Are you going to do any American TV shows?

H: There was a rumor that we might do a Saturday Night Live. They want us to do it sometime late in March, but we'll be heavily into recording schedules then, so I don't know about it. Stop asking me serious questions. Ask me some silly questions now!

IW: What's your favorite breakfast food?

H: Peanut butter on toast! Makes me very anti-social to the rest of the band.

IW: What brand of shampoo do you use?

H: The cheapest. Do you have a car? Could you give me a lift back to the hotel?

IW: Sure, but we have to take a bus to get to the car. We can lend you a quarter.

H: Alright, then.

IW: Is it hard for all seven of you to get along on the road?

H: Yeah! No, actually it's nice because if you're fed up with a particular person, you can go talk to someone else. There are three sort of cliques in the band. There's the blacks, the low-life humans, and the sensibles. Blacks are sort of like the marijuana culture. Roddy, although he's white, is a black because he's into the marijuana culture and he's sometimes a low-life human too. I tend to be king of the sensibles, although I have become a bit low-life of late.

IW: Did you get to see Alcatraz?

H: Only briefly. I didn't get to take a boat out to it, which is annoying. I bought some lovely postcards with a view of Alcatraz saying, "Lovely time, wish you were here."

IW: Well, you can go to Trafalgar Square and write us a letter about it, and we'll go to Alcatraz and write you a letter about it. We can exchange tourist t-shirts.

The bus ride to the car - Horace sits with Idol Worshiper Sue

Photo: Vicki Berndt

H: Yeah, awful Beefeater t-shirts! That's one of the nice things about coming out here. I can be a total tourist. The other week I was paddling in the Pacific, and the connotations of me living in England and paddling in the Pacific was like, something tremendous! Although it was freezing, and people thought I was stupid.

IW: Do you enjoy touring?

H: Well, I haven't much choice, have I? Yes, I do! I never thought, two years ago, that I'd be stomping around America. I've always wanted to come to America.

IW: How did you get the name Sir Horace Gentleman?

H: It's like the reggae names. Everyone's got funny names. Brad's name is Prince Rimshot, sometimes.

IW: Where do you guys get your suits?

H: Second-hand stores, mostly. Now some band members have money and have been known to buy full-price suits. I disapprove of that whole-heartedly. The suit I wore tonight, that grey one, cost me six quid — $12. I got some lovely button-down shirts in a Goodwill store the other day for $1.89 each. I bought six! This girl that works at ... was just telling me about that store, but their suits are $40. That's 20 quid!

IW: The thing is, the stuff they have you already own. That's why they stock it, so we can look like our favorite bands!

H: When we started out, we were dressing like our audience, sort of like skinheads. Now that we're getting popular, people are beginning to dress like us.

IW: How did you like working with Elvis Costello on your record?

H: Fine! It was alright.

IW: Are you going to work with him on the second album?

H: No, I don't think so. We're going to use Dave Jordan, who's the engineer on the first album and does our sound onstage.

Chrysalis advert for The Specials appearance on

Saturday Night Live

IW: Are there times you wish you had just stayed a van driver?

H: Sort of the split second before the plane's about to land and sometimes one or two minutes before I go onstage. I get a bit nervous all the time, but that's all. If I can cope with a hangover in Los Angeles, then I'm alright!

IW: What do English people think of Americans? Do they have any stereotypes?

H: Yes, of course, they do! We get the tourists — like the fat bloke with the Bermuda shorts and Hawaiian shirts, three cameras, and a hat. Or else those suits with the massive checks.

IW: Plaid!

H: I suppose you have the stereotyped Englishman — the pinstriped suit, bowler hat and umbrella, going, "Awfully, awfully nice to see you." It works both ways.

IW: Did you do any Midwestern shows?

H: Oklahoma City, Salt Lake City...

IW: How did those go?

H: Oklahoma City was really funny! The Police were meant to do two shows there, but they pulled out of the gig because of Sting's voice and Stuart Copeland's back. So, we ended up doing one show in Oklahoma City — actually, it was in Norman, which is just outside of Oklahoma City in a 600 capacity theater. I was really worried about it being a "redneck" state and the announcer saying, "I'm sorry, all you Police fans. The Police aren't playing, and now here's a band from England that you've never heard of, that doesn't play rock 'n' roll." I was really worried, but we went on and it went great. It was nice getting back to an audience that had never heard of us before, grabbing them by the throat and saying, "You will dance!"

IW: I noticed at Stanford that a lot of people don't know what reggae is, or how to dance to it, but they enjoyed it anyway. Even if it wasn't the punk rock they expected.

H: Yes, they sort of pogo slowly. Dancing to reggae is really fascinating; it's a lot slower... [Here Horace gives us a lesson in skanking.] You've got to see people like Neville and Lynval do it. Reggae is on the second and fourth beat, that's where the bass drum goes and that's how you dance to it.

Full-page Chrysalis advert
Trouser Press magazine - May 1980

IW: How long have you been playing the bass?

H: Do you have a lot of room in your fanzine? I've got quite a nice story. When we were doing those dates at the Music Machine with the Clash, on the last day, I spoke to Paul Simonon, who's quite a shy bloke actually, and he says, "I really like your bass playing. How long have you been playing?" I said, "I've been playing for eight years, but only seriously for the last three years." He turns around and scratches his head and says, "Yeah, I wonder when I'll start taking it seriously." Which was the perfect answer from one of the Clash.

IW: Do you get much time to look around the cities?

H: We had a couple of days off in Los Angeles, and it was really nice. I got to put my feet in Cary Grant's footsteps, and I got to see the Hollywood sign and all that!

IW: Did you go to Disneyland?

H: Yes! It was amazing! We went on Space Mountain and the Pirates of the Caribbean and the Haunted House... It was great!

IW: Did any movie stars come to see your shows in Los Angeles?

H: Randy California from Spirit came on the last night and was seen dancing but was probably drunk. I did get to meet Rod Stewart's bass player...

IW: Was Andy Warhol there when you played New York? [One of the IW editors has an Andy Warhol fetish — Other Ed.]

H: No, but Ian Hunter and Mick Ronson were going to come to the gig in New York, but only if they could stand in the sound booth. We said, "Either you're in there with the punters, or forget it."

Here Horace gathers up his clothes and we all catch the bus back to the car. On the bus, Horace clears up a misunderstanding...

IW: Is it true you guys don't like the Clash? I saw you tearing up the cover of a magazine with a picture of Joe Strummer on it at the record store.

H: NO! NO! That's not true at all! The reason for that was because they were giving them to us for nothing. They had to rip the top off so they could send them back as damaged. Christ, the Clash are great!

Idol Worship #1 featuring the Specials,
the Clash & Madness
(Clash photos by Vicki Berndt)

On the ride to the car, we pass Haight Street, which Horace was excited to see since he was somewhat of a hippie a few years back.

We met up again later at the Mabuhay where Horace, Brad, Terry and Jerry were watching the Go-Go's, who'd opened for them in LA. After advising him against the Mab's fare, Gwen, Spike, Vicki and Sue took the famished bass player to Zim's for a late-night snack.

Everyone laughed as he showed us his Roddy Radiation imitation. (Suck in your cheeks, bend your ears out, and say "Bollocks!") And the wire-rimmed glasses Horace wears offstage are fake! He picked up several pairs in Seattle so he can "look like a professor on a lecture tour rather than a pop star." We also got clued in that one of the Clash is married! It seems that some years ago, a member of the group married a European girl for several hundred pounds so he could buy his first guitar and she could get British citizenship. (When the Clash were here, this story was confirmed by sources close to the group — they're still married legally, but he "hasn't seen her for years.")

Finally, in the early morning hours we dropped Horace off at his hotel to get a bit of rest before his 7am flight, and these IWers headed home with some memories of a very Special night.

Syl Sylvain Talks About The Teardrops (And The Dolls And The Criminals)

Originally published in do-Wop #2 (1981)
By Devorah Ostrov

Syl Sylvain and the Teardrops (RCA Records 1981)

"In America today it's like... well, like beating your head against the wall." Syl Sylvain is sat beneath the covers in his Los Angeles hotel room, telling me why it's been difficult getting his songs heard. 

"They just want a lot of hype," he says. "They want to see the Plasmatics or something."

Syl arrived in Los Angeles on tour to promote his new group, the Teardrops, and his new LP, Syl Sylvain and the Teardrops.

So far, all the shows (New Orleans and Texas) have gone smoothly, although Syl hasn't been pleased with the advance publicity — or more specifically, the lack thereof — for the tour and the album. "They [RCA Records] don't seem to realize... Even though we're a brand-new act, we don't need a hype-type advertisement. But you still gotta tell people that we're around! That's why we came here. If it were up to them, we wouldn't have even come out here."

"They see us as an East Coast-regional sort of band," he continues. "We just want to entertain period. We're not trying to entertain kids just in New York or anything like that. We want to go anywhere that they want us."

L-R: Danny Reid, Syl Sylvain, Rosie Rex

RCA publicity photo by Kate Simon

Even RCA's refusal to support a Teardrops tour couldn't stop Syl from doing it anyway.

"You know how we got out here?" he asks. I tell him that I heard something about how they drove across the Mojave Desert in a borrowed Chevy Chevette.

"After RCA passed on the tour, we got a couple of vehicles and decided to make the trip. Somebody stole the car like three or four days before we started out! But this fan of ours had moved out to New York. She doesn't drive her car, so she lent it to us. That's how we made the trip, in her little Chevy Chevette."

It should be added that a few days later, while in San Francisco, the Chevy Chevette wound up in the middle of a Teardrops vs. Cholos war outside the York Hotel and came out of it with a smashed front windshield. Syl has the worst luck with cars.

Syl was born Sylvain Mizrahi in Cairo, Egypt, and spent several years of his childhood living in Paris before his family immigrated to the US. "I always had a hard time," he giggles. "People were making fun of my clothes even when I first got over here. I had brown shoes, and brown shoes were like, WHOA! And I had 'suiciders' [platform shoes so big you could supposedly jump off them and commit suicide], and that was WHOA too!"

Sylvain Sylvain (circa 1981)

Photo: Vicki Berndt

This seems like a good place to insert a condensed history of Syl's first (and some might say most notorious) group: The New York Dolls. Sylvain was going to school in Queens, with his best friend Billy Murcia (the Dolls' original drummer, he died before their first album was recorded) and Johnny Genzale (Thunders), when he decided to form a band.

"The name Dolls is mine," he states, despite some reports that give Johnny the credit. In the beginning, Syl actually tried to kick Johnny out of the group because he was "a bit of a hard-on." However, Johnny returned, proved his worthiness, and wasn't sacked after all. Lead singer David Johansen was introduced to the guys by the same friend who later introduced Syl to Rosie Rex (now the Teardrops' drummer) — and the New York Dolls were unleashed upon the world!

New York Dolls publicity photo

L-R: Arthur Kane, Jerry Nolan, David Johansen,

Syl Sylvain and Johnny Thunders

As well as being accountable for the Dolls' moniker, Syl was also largely responsible for their look. Before the Dolls, Syl had been a fashion designer. In fact, he made the first pair of láme jeans! And he designed the silver lamé jumpsuit that he wore on the back of the Dolls' debut LP. He describes it as "the wet look before the wet look came in."

When I beg Syl to divulge the sleaziest story he can about the Dolls, he hesitates and says that everything they did came naturally. But he doesn't have any problem when it comes to the sleaziest person involved with the Dolls — that would be Malcolm McLaren.

"Malcolm used to say he was our manager," remarks Syl. "Well, that's the sleaziest story I've ever heard! Anybody that could've gotten us red pants could've been our manager."

The pants he's referring to were part of the controversial Red Patent Leather — "better red than dead" — outfits the band once wore. Since the Dolls were never politically inclined, it's interesting how Malcolm, the Dolls, and the red pants became entangled in that infamous performance.

Advert for Syl's first solo album

Sylvain Sylvain released in 1979 (RCA)

"It wasn't as much of a political thing as people think," asserts Syl. "Like I said, it started with one pair of red pants. Then everybody said, 'I want red pants!' And then... 'Let's get the red shoes.' Then, when it was all red, Malcolm's great idea was, 'Let's hang up the red flag now.' David thought that was a great idea, and basically, they were the only ones who liked it."

"David wasn't my spokesman," Syl points out, "but people would look at that show and think, 'Well... Johnny and David are the leaders of the band.' They said that today in the LA Times — that I was a sidekick in the Dolls. And that now I have such a good band, that I'm still a sidekick!"

It's a little-known story, but shortly after the Dolls broke up, Malcolm approached Syl about becoming the lead singer of the Sex Pistols. "He kept telling me about these kids [Steve Jones, Paul Cook, and Glen Matlock] who hung out at his store, and how he could get them to do anything he wanted. It just sounded to me like another Dolls, and I didn't want to be part of another thing like that. I didn't want to be a politician. I wanted to do something musical."

After he turned down Malcolm's offer, Syl went to Japan and carried on working with David Johansen. He also put together his own band called the Criminals (featuring Tony Machine on drums). Sadly, although the Criminals were one of the finest groups playing in New York, their material was difficult to pigeonhole. And according to Syl, at a time when everyone was concerned about what was punk and what wasn’t, that doomed them.

Criminals 45 "The Kids Are Back" b/w

"The Cops Are Coming" (Sing Sing Records - 1978)

"To the kids, we had a jazzy sound," he explains. "But back then ['77/'78] they just wanted like, Television or Patti Smith — a real punky, anarchy sort of group. Then, uptown, the business people said, 'The Criminals? Forget it! That's punk and we want disco.'"

After the Criminals broke up, Syl issued a wonderfully poppy self-titled solo album, and in 1980 he formed the Teardrops with Rosie Rex and Danny Reid.

"Our show is all history," comments Syl. "We even do a couple of Dolls' and Criminals' numbers. It depends. If people call out stuff and they know things, we'll do it for them."

Of course, Syl has his own definition of the Teardrops' bopping beat: "We call it Puerto Rican-reggae. You know, the record company didn't like that. They said, 'We won't be able to sell that.' And I said, 'With the advertising you put out last year, I need something that's going to self-advertise.'"

What was the advertising like last year?

"It wasn't!" he exclaims. "That's why I was trying to get it this year. The name Teardrops is such a great name. And you know, like with all great things... You make it up and you put it together. They take it, they take things out, and then they put it out. That is life as it is right now."

Syl Sylvain and the Teardrops 

L-R: Rosie Rex, Syl Sylvain & Danny Reid

Needless to say, Syl Sylvain and the Teardrops is a terrific LP! As Syl puts it: "It's dancing, romancing music."

"That first album is very influenced by my years in the Dolls," he observes, "and what happened afterwards. This album is very influenced by what's going on with me now. The music is growing a little more. But basically, it's still me!"

* You can read my extensive interview with Sylvain spanning his life up to the early days of the New York Dolls here: devorahostrov.blogspot.com/2017/09/sylvain-sylvain

Rox Rocks From Hayward To Japan

Originally published in East Bay Band Calendar, December 1979
By Devorah Ostrov

Rox with vocalist Dyan Buckelew center. Dyan left for a solo career

after the group returned from Japan. She later married Rick Derringer.

They're not the Runaways, and they're weary of the constant comparisons to that heavy metal outfit. "We try to interest the audience with our music," says Rox bassist Toni Falconio. "We can't avoid the fact that we are girls, but we hope that the audience will like our music and not just us."

And after listening to these East Bay rockers, the only comparison to be made is that both groups are all females. Rox — consisting of Falconio, vocalist/guitarist Nina Markert, keyboardist Gere Fennelly, and drummer Christie Nehlick — are all highly accomplished musicians, each with many years of musical experience behind her. There's a toughness in each one, a defensiveness that comes from having to prove herself in a male-oriented field where females are barely tolerated.

While they were rehearsing at Pearl Studios in Fremont, it became a running joke that neighborhood boys would appear at the door wondering who was playing such hard-core rock. And they'd always be taken aback to find GIRLS behind the instruments.

In fact, according to Markert, the only people who don't think Rox is equal to comparative male bands are "guys who don't want girls to make it because they don't want us to show them up."

Cover of the "American Kan Kan" 45

Although recognition has been slow for them in the Bay Area, a recent seven-month tour of Japan found them on the same level as most top American bands, playing to packed halls, being chased for autographs, and hounded for television commercials.

Rox (spelled Roxz before the tour) had been together for less than a year when a rep from Shinka, Japan's largest music publishing company, saw them perform at San Francisco's Mabuhay Gardens and signed them to a Japanese contract.

In Japan, the girls were well taken care of, with all their expenses paid for by Shinka (including chauffeured transportation). They were also given extensive promotional advertising, such as a "shopping tour" of Japanese malls, several TV appearances (two were "dubbed," the rest were filmed live) and dozens of radio interviews.

And, of course, at each promotional stop, the fans were waiting for them. "We had some fans that would follow us to radio stations and wait three hours just to see us," comments Markert. "And when we'd drive away, they'd chase our car!"

L-R: Christie Nehlick, Gere Fennelly, Toni Falconio & Nina Markert

(Photo of Rox originally used in the East Bay Band Calendar)

"At concerts, they would throw all these little superballs onstage and streamers and balloons," adds Falconio. "They have guards standing in the aisles to make them sit down, but you know, if they didn't, it would be total insanity."

Not bad for a group that got its start scarcely two years ago by taking first place in the Hayward Battle of the Bands with a set featuring Kiss' "Detroit Rock City," Thin Lizzy's "Jailbreak," and Montrose's "Rock the Nation" — during which Falconio slipped and fell and Markert's guitar somehow got out of tune.

While they were in Japan, Rox recorded an album (half in Japanese) called Tantrum (only available by import), and two 45s — "American Kan Kan" and "Okay Boys" — written for them by Japanese songwriter Tokura.

They weren't allowed to record their own material because "the company didn't think we could sell anything." But Markert argues that it was the other way around. "You should have heard it ['Okay Boys'] before we rearranged it. We were pulling our hair out, saying, 'We can't rearrange this. It's too far in the pits!'"

As for the album, Nehlick says they're happy with their playing but that the production "could have been a lot better. When we went into the studio, the Japanese producer said, 'Use this amp, use this... this... this...' Next time we go in, it will be nice because we'll know how to use the sound the way we want to."

Rox pose with Abba for a Japanese music magazine!
(Photo courtesy of Gere Fennelly)

Although the LP won't be released in America, it supposedly shows a totally different side of Rox. With the Japanese idea of hard rock being the Bay City Rollers, the girls were forced to record tunes in the commercial pop vein.

"Not pop like power pop," states Fennelly, "but pop like puppy pop." Quite a change for these rockers whose sets usually include Van Halen, Scorpions, Cheap Trick, and Led Zeppelin covers, as well as their own self-penned heavy rock numbers.

Still adjusting to the culture shock of not being chased down the street and only recently returning to Bay Area stages, Rox want to dispel any rumors of their demise. They are still together and rocking harder than ever!