The Seeds: "Pushin' Too Hard" Was Only Part Of Their Story. In 1993, I Spoke To Keyboardist Daryl Hooper About The History Of The Band For AMP

Originally published in American Music Press, June 1993 
By Devorah Ostrov

The Seeds - publicity photo

L-R: Jan Savage, Sky Saxon, Daryl Hooper & Rick Andridge

In the liner notes to Nuggets: Original Artifacts from The First Psychedelic Era, rock historian (and Patti Smith Group guitarist) Lenny Kaye termed the Seeds, "one of the most important groups to come out of the Los Angeles area."

He goes on to say that the band "were in the unenviable position of watching their reputation move from that of a crack underground outfit to something akin to the dreaded tag of 'teeny-bopper,' all because of a string of hits (of which 'Pushin' Too Hard' was the biggest and best)."

In 1965, Daryl Hooper was just out of high school, and his friend Rick Andridge had just finished a course in computer programming. Lured by the Beach Boys-inspired promised land of California, the two left Michigan (and their weekend cover band, the Four Sharps, in which Hooper played keyboards and Andridge drummed) for Los Angeles.

But Hooper found that LA Trade Tech, his college of choice, had a year-long waiting list, and Andridge couldn't get a job. So, the two "bummed around" until their money ran out. Fortunately, someone in LA knew that Hooper and Andridge were musicians and was circulating their phone number.

Alternate pic from the photo session for the group's debut album

Shortly after they'd played at a stranger's wedding, a fellow calling himself Sky Saxon phoned them. "He asked if we wanted to make a few dollars and play some music," says Hooper, who now teaches music in a small California community.

Saxon (born Richard Marsh) grew up in Salt Lake City, Utah. He'd started his recording career by releasing a handful of pop singles as Little Richie Marsh. When Hooper and Andridge met him, he was 28 years old and already going by the name Sky Saxon.

The Seeds
GNP/Crescendo publicity photo

According to Hooper, none of the guys shared their pasts with each other. For instance, he was never told (and never inquired) how Saxon came up with the cool appellation.

Of the singer's background, he says, "I know absolutely nothing about his father. He talked a little bit about his mother. At what point in his life he came to Los Angeles, I don't know. It was like, this is happening now, or we would like this to happen in the future — that's what we were concentrating on. It was sort of like the past didn't really matter."

The as-yet-unnamed group, which included Saxon's friend, guitarist Jan Savage, and a temporary second guitarist, began by playing cover tunes during a week's worth of gigs at a "little, tiny bar."

"Everything clicked right into place," says Hooper. He observes that Andridge was ready to go back to Michigan before these shows, but as soon as they started playing, the drummer exclaimed, "Let's keep the band together!"

More small club dates followed, with the group trying on various monikers — the Earls of England (an obvious cash-in on the era's British Invasion) and Sky Saxon & the Savages were two possibilities. A Los Angeles disc jockey who saw them during this early period suggested they call themselves the Seeds.

The Seeds eponymous debut LP - released April 1966

Includes the hit singles "Pushin' Too Hard" and

"Can't Seem to Make You Mine"

As Hooper recalls: "He said, 'You guys have a real earthy sound and a real seedy look about you. You ought to call yourselves the Seeds!' At first, we went, 'Oh, no!' Then we thought about it, and it fit us and sort of stuck."

Their first performance as the Seeds took place at Bido Lito's, LA's hip underground club (literally — you had to go down several steps into a basement-like room).

By then, their usual set of covers was already giving way to original material. "We'd get together," remarks Hooper, "and all of a sudden we'd have a song. It would just happen!"

He adds, "At Bido Lito's we got the best response from the audience when we played our own stuff. So, we worked up a complete set of our own material."

In the meantime, Saxon was attempting to get the group a recording contract, and it was GNP/Crescendo (the GNP stood for Gene Norman Presents) — a label respected in surf and jazz circles but not especially known for rock 'n' roll — that signed the Seeds.

Hooper explains why they went with the unlikely record company: "Sky had gone around to different labels, and the ones that would even bother to talk to him would say, 'Yeah... we'll call ya.' Crescendo was interested in getting started in the [rock 'n' roll] market, so they offered us a contract."

Two of Saxon's compositions, "Can't Seem to Make You Mine" and "Daisy Mae," were issued as a 45 ahead of the first album. Although the A-side was a regional hit in LA (and would later kick off the LP), it failed to do anything nationally, and the B-side (a Little Richard-type raver) only resurfaced with later CD reissues.

Poster for The Seeds & The Chocolate Watchband

Recorded on a four-track at LA's Western Studios, the band's eponymous debut album was released in April 1966.

The cover showed four scruffy characters resplendent in motorcycle boots, shoulder-length hair, and shades; not one of them was smiling. Inside was some of the toughest garage-punk to ever hit a record, and foremost amongst the lot was "Pushin' Too Hard":

"All I want is to just be free

Live my life the way I wanna be

All I want is to just have fun

Live my life like it just begun

But you're pushin' too hard

Pushin' too hard on me... "

The Rolling Stone Encyclopedia Of Rock 'n' Roll references the song's "nasty, threatening drive and ominous lyrics" — which, it should be added, Saxon delivers with a perfect snarl.

But rock critic Dave Marsh, in his Heart Of Rock & Soul: The 1001 Greatest Singles Ever Made, feigns being let down when the tune swerves during its third verse from a whatever-you-got protest to a simple girlfriend chastisement:

Seeds vocalist Sky Saxon

(aka Marcus Tybalt)

"Better listen girl what I'm tellin' you

Better listen girl or we are through

Better stop all your foolin' around

Stop your runnin' all over town

'Cause you're pushin' too hard

Pushin' too hard on me..."

"Oh well," sighs Marsh, "I really only put this one in for its fantastic fuzztone and reverb guitar solo..."

Although Hooper doesn't remember anything exceptional about the recording sessions for the LP, he does offer this insight into how Saxon wrote his lyrics: "We'd go to breakfast after playing some club, and he'd get an idea and start scribbling all these words on a napkin. Throughout our whole career it was, 'Hey! I've got this great song!' and he'd whip out a napkin!"

Mention should also be made of the odd production credits for the first album, which list Saxon as co-producer with one Marcus Tybalt. (On subsequent releases, Tybalt alone receives credit.) What's so weird about that? Legend has it that there was no Marcus Tybalt, that the name was a pseudonym for Saxon. That means Saxon co-produced the record with himself!

"Exactly!" chuckles Hooper. "Long hours in the studio with the engineer and himself. Sometimes I'd put my two cents in..."

Montgomery Ward advert for The Seeds "fantastic album!"

But why the pseudonym?

"Sky was involved in so many things," says Hooper, "I think he felt a little self-conscious and thought it might be a good idea to have another name in the picture."

While recording the album, the band were introduced to disc jockey Tim Hudson (he later affixed the title "Lord" to his name), who became their manager.

One of three color inserts included

with the Future LP

"We'd had a few small-time managers," says Hooper, "that really couldn't do anything except get us a few jobs. Tim was really interested in the group. He thought we had a real original sound and that he could do something for us. He helped us out quite a bit, got us a tour..."

"Pushin' Too Hard" was being played sporadically on LA radio stations and was simmering at the bottom of some other markets when the Seeds began their first major tour (on a bill that included Question Mark & the Mysterians, the Shadows of Knight, the Outsiders, and the McCoys).

"It was a tour all through the South and the East Coast," comments Hooper, "ending up in Montreal. All the shows were really good except the last one. Question Mark got sick and didn't show up, and the semi carrying all the equipment was late. The equipment finally did show up, but a couple of the groups had left. I think it ended up being one other group and ourselves. At first, the crowd was a little rowdy, but it turned out really well, and they absolutely loved us! We just played three sets instead of one! After the show, we were sitting outside the place. It was snowing, and we hadn't gotten paid because the agent had the money and was on his way back to Los Angeles. We got a motel room and were wiring back for money. We had to keep going downtown to the wire service because the money wasn't coming through. I don't know if it was the agent's fault or what. Finally, Rick's dad wired him some money so we could get out of there!" (Denim Delinquent editor Jim Parrett was at the Montreal show and has kindly shared his recollections at the bottom of this article.)

The Seeds (aka the Warts) perform 
"Pushin' Too Hard" on The Mothers-In-Law.

The guys first became aware of their chart-topping status while driving up the East Coast during the tour.

"I think we were somewhere in Massachusetts," muses Hooper, "listening to the radio. All of a sudden we hear 'Pushin' Too Hard' and the DJ says, 'Here's the #15 record this week!' When we got back to Los Angeles, we had a hit record on our hands!"

(Although the song was a regional #1 in a range of areas across the country, including LA, surprisingly it only reached #36 nationally.)

With a hit single, Hudson was able to book the Seeds on national television talk and music programs, such as The Joey Bishop Show and American Bandstand. They became regulars on the LA variety show Groovy. And one episode of the wacky Eve Arden and Kaye Ballard TV sitcom The Mothers-In-Law completely revolved around the guys, who performed their hit under the suitably silly TV-band name of the Warts.

Future-era promo card for the Seeds
"The originators of the Flower Generation"

GNP/Crescendo responded to the group's newfound popularity by quickly putting them out on larger tours featuring the Beach Boys, Sonny & Cher, and the Doors. (Hooper stresses that the Seeds headlined over Morrison & Co.)

Inevitably, they were plastered all over the teen 'zines of the day, discussing their fave colors and listing what they looked for in a girl. "Are they still asking the same stupid questions?" wonders Hooper. How could I resist?

Meet the Seeds:

Daryl hates "phonies of all kinds!"

Q: What's your favorite color?

Hooper: Green.

Q: What kind of girls do you like?

Hooper: Sincere girls who like to talk!

With their second LP, the group seemed determined not to be pigeon-holed as mere teenybopper fodder and continued to relate in many ways to their original underground fans.

Issued just six months after their first album, A Web Of Sound featured a Saxon-designed cover with the band members trapped in a giant spider's web, as well as nonsensical Tybalt-authored liner notes that began: "Sticks, sticks and eight are ten..."

Although side two showcased fourteen minutes of crazed psychedelic fuzz and distortion called "Up in Her Room," for the most part, A Web Of Sound contained three-minute-long, slightly trippy rockers.

A 45 featuring the album's opening organ-driven track, "The Farmer" (b/w an extremely condensed version of "Up in Her Room"), garnered the Seeds another entry into the Billboard Top 100, but it stalled in the lower echelons at #86.

A Web Of Sound - the second Seeds' LP

Released in October 1966

Hooper reveals that the song's real title is "Mr. Farmer" — a slip corrected with Crescendo's CD release. He also mentions that the single was banned in the Midwest because "Mr. Farmer" was allegedly growing marijuana! And he contends that the record doesn't do justice to "Up in Her Room."

"Sometimes when we played live, it would last for half-an-hour," he says, "and it would just be this wild frenzy by the end!"

The Seeds' next two albums were issued almost simultaneously. One, A Full Spoon Of Seedy Blues, released in November 1967, was a legitimate heavy-duty blues LP featuring several Saxon-penned originals and one track written by Muddy Waters. (Apparently, Waters also contributed harmonica but couldn't be credited because of contractual obligations.)

While Crescendo appeared to like the concept of a blues record, in an effort not to confuse their teenybopper following, it was made to look like a side-project and was issued as the Sky Saxon Blues Band. "The name was still there," points out Hooper, "so that our real fans, if they liked blues music, they'd at least give it a listen."

As for confusing their younger fans, Future — the group's third official album, released just three months earlier — did enough of that all by itself.

Four-song EP released by the French label Disques
Vogue, featuring "The Farmer," "I Tell Myself,"
"Rollin' Machine," and "Pictures and Designs."

It was the Summer of Love, and flower power had hit the Seeds over the head. Future is filled with bouncing psychedelic/pop ditties about flowers, flower ladies, and flower children.

Saxon's spoken-word intro leading into "March of the Flower Children," the LP's signature track, positively gushes with hippie clichés: "The flower children are the garden of today/And the rain is the tears falling down from the angels above/ To let them grow in peace and love..."

Hooper states that the term "Flower Power" was actually coined by the Seeds: "Sky came up with the name Flower Music, and one of the other guys said something about Flower Power. We were referring to our following as Flower Children. It was a whole idea that we as a group came up with."

Hooper says Future was a fun album to record, and he notes the influence of the Beatles' Sgt. Pepper, which had been released that May: "Although the music is nothing like that, it influenced us to bring in different instruments — a tuba, a couple of violin players, a flute, a harp... We were sort of experimenting, making spur of the moment changes. A couple of the songs were written in the studio."

A Full Spoon Of Seedy Blues is available at Thrifty!

(Image borrowed from the collection of Jeff Jarema)

And again, there were ridiculous liner notes — cryptic personality profiles of the band members written by manager Hudson — for which a Seeds' Decoder Ring was evidently required. Hooper explains that his profile was part of a publicity gimmick that claimed he was a reincarnation of Beethoven!

Neither A Full Spoon Of Seedy Blues or Future yielded a hit single, but a 45 of "A Thousand Shadows" b/w "March of the Flower Children" managed to climb to #72 on the national charts, and a re-release of "Can't Seem to Make You Mine" from the first album b/w "I Tell Myself" from A Web Of Sound got to a respectable #41.

Future - released August 1967

It's probably an understatement when Hooper says Future "didn't do as well as our other material."

As for reviews, he allows: "Most of them were really good … until Future, which got mixed reviews. I remember reading some reviews about the blues album where people just didn't understand. 'Why is this band doing blues?' Which was a bit of a disappointment."

Ironically, even though their chart action was now virtually nil, as a live act, the group was at the peak of its career.

Hooper particularly recalls one show in Hawaii, where the audience numbered 25,000 - 30,000 people. "Sky was throwing flowers out to the audience, and the girls were just going crazy trying to grab them! There was this one policeman on the edge of the stage... Sky threw out a lei he'd been wearing and it went over this cop's head, and all you saw was ten girls jump on him and just crush him! And that was the last we saw of him."

Released in 1968, Raw & Alive: The Seeds In Concert At Merlin's Music Box, demonstrated just how powerful the band was (although they supposedly recorded it live in a studio with the applause added later). And that same year, the Dick Clark-produced teensploitation flick Psych-Out featured the song "Two Fingers Pointin' on You" from the Future LP.

KRLA presents: The Monster

Halloween Freak-Off, featuring The Seeds
Saturday, October 29, 1966

If not for two crucial factors — Saxon's insistence on taking an extended break and the escalation of his well-known LSD habit — the Seeds might have recovered from their slump and continued their recording career.

"We would've ventured back into the style of the second album," asserts Hooper. Instead, they hurtled toward oblivion.

"Sky wanted to take all this time off," says Hooper, "not work for a while, just write and fool around. He was making more money than the rest of us because he was the producer and he was the writer, so he could kick back more easily than we could. We had wives by that time, and some of us had families."

"But besides that," he adds, "time is such an important thing in the music business. If you're not right on top of it with the next hit record, people forget about you. If there's a lull, they're on to the next group. That was part of the friction. Sky was also getting really bizarre..."

In Heart Of Rock & Soul, Dave Marsh depicts the singer as going "off the deep end into Tim Leary-land." However, Hooper maintains that prior to Future, Saxon was more or less clean and sober: "And he was still coming up with far-out stuff!"

Hooper also states that even when Saxon did begin "tripping" regularly, "it was never a problem like it became with [Jim] Morrison — falling off the stage and not showing up. He kept it under control. Until later..."

Another of the color inserts included with Future  

When asked if he, Andridge and Savage were also dropping acid, Hooper emphatically declares, "We weren't! We really weren't into drugs." He emphasizes that while they clicked musically, "As far as lifestyles, we were quite a bit different. Sky was the far-out one, the true hippie. The rest of us were down-to-earth and sort of average."

In 1968, Andridge became the first to leave. "He just wanted out of the music business," says Hooper. Today, Andridge lives half-an-hour away from Hooper and drives a truck. Andridge was replaced by 17-year-old Don Boomer and they carried on gigging. "Not big concerts," admits Hooper, "but large clubs."

Jan Savage was the next to leave. He too was replaced, and for the first time, they added a real bassist to the lineup.

Although Saxon is credited with playing bass on the albums, according to Hooper, "He didn't really play except in our very early days." More often, a session musician was brought in for the recordings and Hooper would use a keyboard bass for live shows.

Hooper called it quits in 1970; his final gig was at a small auditorium in Pasadena. "A lot of people were there," he reflects. "It was a good show. But I was disgusted with the whole business. There was a lot of friction with Sky, and I said, 'This is it. I'm outta here!'"

Rumor has it that following the Seeds break-up, Saxon moved to Hawaii, where he taught a jungle tribe to worship dogs (because dog is God spelled backwards). Is there any truth to that?

"I've heard him say that kind of thing," laughs Hooper, "and you're going, 'What!?' I know for a fact that he did live in Hawaii, but what actually occurred there has always been a little sketchy."

Promotion for the GNP/Crescendo documentary

The Seeds: Pushin' Too Hard

Update 1: In 2014, GNP/Crescendo released a documentary charting the rise and fall of the Seeds. Directed by Neil Norman (son of label founder Gene Norman) and produced by Alec Palao, The Seeds: Pushin' Too Hard nicely chronicles both the group's history and its lasting legacy.

Sadly, Saxon passed away in 2009, followed by Rick Andridge in 2011. However, a reunited version of the group — which includes Daryl Hooper and drummer Don Boomer, along with Alec Palao on bass, the fabulous Paul Kopf on vocals, and occasionally Jan Savage on guitar (as his health allows, from what I understand) — is currently on tour.

Update 2: Denim Delinquent editor Jim Parrett was at the Seeds '66 show in Montreal. He has very kindly shared his recollections of the gig and the following days: "The Seeds' equipment didn't arrive in time so instead of opening as they were supposed to, they closed the show. The local teen rag wrote, 'Half the audience loved them, the other half didn't know what to make of them.' A few days later the band was interviewed on TV when they played in Ottawa. During their stay in Montreal, Sky hung with the Haunted who were put off by his arrogant nature. 'Pushin' Too Hard' was still hot in the charts and the first album had just been released. I was already hooked but the music was still too new. Already the band had changed to a more psychedelic sound. I was a little surprised by how trippy the keyboards sounded, dominating the overall vibe. The band wore the outfits shown on Full Spoon. Every song finished with a complete massive build-up to orgasmic frenzy. It drove the crowd wild. The local rag Frag! covered the show with photos, but that mag has disappeared, and no one seems to remember it but me. Pity."

The Chesterfield Kings: As The Band Launch Their Seventh LP, I Catch Up With Their Turbulent Past

Although the bulk of this story was written in 1994 and published in American Music Press, some text which was relevant at the time has been updated to support the facts rather than the myths surrounding the group. Many thanks to Greg Prevost for helping me sort it all out!

Here Are The Chesterfield Kings - the band's 1982 debut LP

"It was supposed to be this rare thing like those Hideout

recordings from the '60s."

By Devorah Ostrov

Formed in 1978 by upstate New York record collector Greg Prevost, the Chesterfield Kings have been rightly credited with igniting the spark which set off the early-'80s garage-punk revival.

But instead of cashing in on the trend, in a mind-boggling series of moves, the group shifted its allegiance to folk-pop, then to '70s glam, and then to delta-blues.

With their latest album, Let's Go Get Stoned, the Kings have gone full circle, returning to where it all began with the Rolling Stones. They've been applauded for the precision with which they borrow/swipe material from their heroes, and blasted for "going metal." Dee Dee Ramone has penned songs for them, and they've recorded with Johnny Thunders and Mick Taylor.

It's been a 16-year career of ups and downs and identity crises, during which the only constant has been Prevost's undying love for rock 'n' roll.

1983 promo pic by Stacy Zaferes

L-R: Rick Cona, Andy Babiuk, Greg Prevost, Ori Guran, Doug Meech

Rochester, New York, is a city of striking contradictions. Tidy suburbs with clipped lawns (such as Greece, where Prevost is from) surround a crime-ridden inner city. Beautiful golf courses and a yearly lilac festival draw visitors from around the world, yet there's nothing for local kids to do. Geographically closer to Toronto than Manhattan, it was the turn of the century home of suffragette Susan B. Anthony and abolitionist Frederick Douglas, but its most recognizable rocker is Foreigner's Lou Gramm.

In the mid-'70s, Prevost was working at Rochester's renowned House of Guitars and publishing Future, a handwritten fanzine with a decidedly '60s slant. "We did articles on bands like Captain Beefheart and Blue Cheer," he says.

1983 publicity picture

Photo: Stacy Zaferes 

Over the years, Prevost had put together a succession of local groups, including the Tar Babies, which merged into an outfit called the Distorted Levels. The Distorted Levels issued an independent 45 ("Hey Mister" b/w "Red Swirls" released in 1978 on Nowhere Records), but nothing clicked.

(A decade later, Bone Fide Records would release a three-song Tar Babies' single featuring both Distorted Levels' tracks and "Rejected at the High School Dance," a Prevost-penned original which dates from 1976. "Rejected at the High School Dance" was issued again in 1990 as part of a four-song EP under the fictitious band name the Mean Red Spiders.)

Some reports claim that the core original members of the Chesterfield Kings met at a Kinks concert. In reality, Prevost met bassist Rick Cona and drummer Doug Meech at the House of Guitars in 1978. He'd been kicking around the idea of forming a band "with a '60s vibe" for a while. And when he suggested it to Cona and Meech, they liked the proposal. But it was March 1979 before they found guitarist Bob Ames and their early lineup somewhat stabilized.

The Chesterfield Kings initial lineup with Bob Ames

Photo courtesy of Rick Cona via
The Only Real Chesterfield Kings FB page
https://www.facebook.com/groups/1641279512771946/

Choosing a moniker for the new group was, states Prevost, "a big ordeal. I actually wanted to call it the Chocolate Covered Ants. I really liked that name. The Paisley Zipper Band was another one we liked."

For a few weeks, they were called the Cutdowns. "But we were really into the Northwest sound," says Prevost, "the Sonics, Paul Revere and the Raiders, Sir Walter Raleigh and the Coupons... There was a band called the Viceroys; we were looking for a name like that. And I had collected all these ads for Chesterfield Kings cigarettes."

During a temporary lull, while the Cutdowns transitioned into the Chesterfield Kings, Prevost received an interesting offer. He'd tracked down guitarist Sean Tolby from the long-defunct Chocolate Watchband for an interview, during which they discussed the possibility of a reunion. "Sean was really psyched about it," he says, "but then I talked to [vocalist] Dave Aguilar, who was a professor in Colorado, and he didn't wanna do it."

Discouraged with his own prospects in Rochester (and able to mimic Mick Jagger at least as well as Aguilar once had), Prevost briefly considered joining the Watchband himself. "I sent Sean a tape of some Stones' covers we'd done. And he said, 'You're in. Let's do it!' So I started rearranging my life, getting ready to move to California." But the Watchband reunion never happened, and Prevost went back to work with his own group.

Greg Prevost - 1985 San Francisco
Photo: Devorah Ostrov

Over the next few months, Ames proved unreliable and the fledgling band went through a number of guitarists, including Frank Moll, who returned home to the Netherlands in November 1979.

In early 1980, Cona switched from bass to guitar, and 16-year-old bassist Andy Babiuk joined the group. Hailing from the Rochester suburb of Irondequoit, Babiuk had started working at the House of Guitars and lied about his age to get into the band.

"He said he was 18," remarks Prevost, "but he was really organized and had a great place to practice." (This was the basement of his parent's church, where the Kings rehearsed for several years.)

In October, after one gig as a foursome (opening for local faves New Math), Orest "Ori" Guran was added on organ and rhythm guitar. "Ori had taken piano lessons," says Prevost, "so he could play a cheesy Vox organ pretty well."

Guran also fit the group's image. "He looked cool," Prevost points out. "He had good hair, so it was easy to make him look like us." And getting the look right was important. While Prevost's earlier projects had been based on a "sloppy, Stooges/Blue Cheerish style" and a "noisy, punk rock/New York Dolls sound," the goal of the early Chesterfield Kings was to duplicate the snazzy look and menacing rumble of a mid-'60s garage-punk band.

Just why, in an era dominated by disco at the one extreme and new wave/synth-pop at the other, anyone would choose to emulate the Music Machine is a mystery on a par with why anyone would want to call themselves Echo and the Bunnymen.

Vintage advertisement for 
Chesterfield Kings cigarettes

Prevost denies any master plan, but he does concede that their choice of persona was "kind of weird because nobody else was doing it." As for why, he simply states, "I dunno. I always liked it. It's the stuff I listened to as a kid. We just thought, 'Let's totally do old Them, Stones, Yardbirds covers.' Then we had to have the same kind of haircuts and clothes and shoes."

With the first "classic" lineup complete, the Kings entered Rochester's Sandcastle Productions to record their first 45, a faithful rendition of the Brogues' "I Ain't No Miracle Worker" b/w "Exit 9," originally by the Heard. (Not to be confused with the sort of well-known Herd led by Peter Frampton.) Self-produced and issued in 1981 on their own Living Eye label, all 1,000 copies of the single sold out.

(The Kings recorded two other 45s on Living Eye, although only the third — a remake of the Barbarians' "Hey Little Bird" b/w "I Can Only Give You Everything" from the Troggs/Them/MC5 catalog — was released. The second single was shelved for many years due to a "slightly off 12-string" in a cover of the Grodes' "I Won't Be There.")

Immediately after finishing the first single, they began compiling a dozen more obscure garage-punk tunes with the intention of issuing a limited-edition album. "We were only going to press 500 copies," muses Prevost. "It was supposed to be this rare thing, like those Hideout recordings from the '60s. Since we all collected records, we wanted to make records that would be collectible."

"I Ain't No Miracle Worker" b/w "Exit 9"

 (Living Eye Records 1981)

Unbelievably, the LP, which sounds so genuinely rough you'd swear they'd just hung a couple of mikes from the ceiling and bashed away, was a torturous year-long chore that only saw the light of day through the divine intervention of Armand Schaubroeck.

"We were working on that album forever," groans Prevost. "We had a miserable time trying to get the sound we wanted. We tried everything. We recorded all the music in this basement where we practiced, and this crazy guy recorded us on a two-track. That's when Armand came along and said, 'Look, you guys are having a problem. I'll help you to put it out.'"

Schaubroeck, co-owner of the House of Guitars and a semi-legendary figure himself (perhaps best known for the LP Everybody Would Love To See Armand Schaubroeck Dead), supplied the backing to put the Kings in a proper studio. He also offered them a distribution deal through his independent label (Mirror Records), which allowed the band to expand on their limited-edition concept.

"So, we took this primitive two-track machine and tape into this big studio," continues Prevost, "and dumped it onto a 24-track. Then we added the vocals to that. That's why it sounds so bizarre!"

Every year the Chesterfield Kings sent out Christmas postcards!
This one featuring Doug, Andy, Greg, Rick, and Ori had a 

hard time in the post, but it's one of my favorites! 

While they struggled to finish their debut album, Greg Shaw contacted the Kings. A rock 'n' roll fanatic with a passion for '60s pop, Shaw was looking for bands to sign to his new Bomp! record label. His fanzine of the same name was one of the most essential and eclectic sources for music info in the US. And the record label, with its hand-picked roster, looked to follow suit.

In a novel approach to A&R, Shaw had canvassed the country encouraging new groups with a '60s sensibility (and by 1981 dozens of wannabe Music Machines had sprung up) to send in tapes for a Battle Of The Garage Bands showdown LP. Ballots enclosed with the record let listeners vote for their fave, and the winner received a Bomp! recording contract.

Greg & Ori - 1985 San Francisco

Photo: Devorah Ostrov

The Kings submitted their version of the Watchband's "Are You Gonna Be There (At the Love-In)," which they'd recorded during the sessions for the first single, and easily knocked out the competition — which included the Vertebrats, the United States of Existence, the Crawdaddies, the Unclaimed, and the Slickee Boys. Of the 100 or so ballots mailed back, Shaw remembers the Chesterfield Kings got "the most votes by far."

However, they turned down the Bomp! contract in favor of staying with Mirror. "We had already said we were gonna do it with Armand," observes Prevost, "and we had almost finished recording the album." But the Kings did take part in Shaw's promotional show at NYC's Peppermint Lounge. It was their big-city debut!

"We drove down in a couple of station wagons with all our junk," recalls Prevost. "We were on a bill with the Slickee Boys, the Wombats, and the Hypstrz from Minneapolis. And right after that, we got this underground kind of following. Everybody who came to see us was wearing striped shirts and pointy boots, and the girls were wearing short skirts."

In 1982, the group's first album hit the record stores. All fourteen tracks were covers of mostly overlooked gems from the mid-'60s. Although much of the material recorded in the church basement — including the Electric Prunes' "You Never Had It Better," the Blues Magoos' "One By One," and "We're Pretty Quick" by the Chob — had been discarded, the songs which made it onto Here Are The Chesterfield Kings didn't lack for esoterica.

The NYU Program Board

gets wild with the Chesterfield Kings!

Of the better-known (relatively speaking) tunes there was the Moving Sidewalks' "99th Floor," "Outside Chance" from the Turtles, "The Hustler" from the Sonics, and the Watchband's "No Way Out" and "Expo 2000."

The real stumpers included the Choir's "I'm Going Home," "You Better Look Now" originally by Buffalo rockers the Rouges, "60 Second Swinger" by Georgia's Little Phil & the Night Shadows, and "Little White Lies" by Vancouver's Painted Ship.

Prevost's fondness for the Texas garage scene was evident in four choices — besides "99th Floor," there was "Fluctuation" from the Shades of Night, "Won't Come Back" from Zachary Thax, and "Come with Me" from the Exotics. Two others, "Satisfaction Guaranteed" by the Mourning Reign and "Time to Kill" by the Harbinger Complex, represented the Bay Area.

As Creem magazine commented in its story on the band: "The songs are carefully picked from 250 numbers in the Kings' revolving repertoire, and chances are you haven't heard all of them, even if you have every single volume of Pebbles."

The LP's spot-on detail extended from the archetypal cover photo (partly inspired by the Shadows of Knight's first album) that featured the group sporting bowl haircuts and clothing fashionable a decade and a half earlier to the slightly blurry black and white snapshots on the back. Even the thick cardboard used for the jacket was antiquated!

1988 promo photo courtesy of Andy Babiuk

Back row: Andy Babiuk, Doug Meech,

Mike Pappert. Front: Greg Prevost

According to Prevost, the recording technique employed for "Expo 2000" is another example of the group's early-on obsession with detail. "We actually studied the original," he says. "The part that sounds like a harpsichord turned out to be a guitar speeded up three or four times. So, we slowed down a tape of the song, and Rick learned the notes. Then he recorded it at normal speed, and we sped up the tape."

While Here Are The Chesterfield Kings didn't match the sales of say, Duran Duran's Rio, it has gone into four pressings and still sells to this day. Canada's Much Music channel regularly aired the band's homemade pop art video for "99th Floor," and even MTV showed it once as part of its "Battle of the Basement Tapes" competition. (The Kings came in second to last; first place went to wusses Eddie and the Tide.)

Establishing a pattern of sorts, it was another three years before the Kings followed up on their debut, during which the garage-punk revival exploded on a worldwide basis. California's Green on Red released their fuzzified eponymous LP, and Boston's the Lyres recorded the definitive On Fyre. In Australia, the Scientists were making what one reviewer termed "a manic swamp-grunge sound...full of dirty feedback and great swaths of nod-out guitar." Meanwhile, in England, the Barracudas were in the teen 'zines, and the Damned (under the pseudonym Naz Nomad & the Nightmares) issued the soundtrack to Give Daddy The Knife Candy, an imaginary '60s teensploitation flick.

But the Chesterfield Kings were biding their time in anticipation of landing a major-label recording deal. Actually, word had it that they were already signed to A&M Records!

The Chesterfield Kings visit the Golden Gate Bridge

and strike a pose from the Beau Brummels/Baytovens handbook.

"That was really weird," reflects Prevost, "because we didn't know anything about it. All these writers were telling us we were on the label. It was this big rumor around the recording industry! At the time, we didn't have a manager, so we didn't have anybody to talk for us. And we couldn't call up A&M and say, 'Uh... I'm in this band. Are we signed?' So, we couldn't do anything about it."

Ultimately, they remained with Mirror, and it turned out to be a good decision. Staying independent meant the Kings could release product as often or as seldom as they pleased and shift gears completely whenever they felt like it.

ROBUST ORIGINALS & FRUG ROCK DELIGHTS

With its front cover design lifted from a Fantastic Baggies' LP, and a back cover all but photocopied off December's Children, the Chesterfield Kings' second full-length offering — 1985's Stop! — presented both a minor change in direction (to a poppier, sometimes folky style) and a crucial progression for the group as two-thirds of the tracks were originals. But Prevost doesn't necessarily see either of those as good things: "A lot of people tell me they really like Stop! but I don't know why."

Stop! (Mirror Records, 1985)

Rolling Stone admired the record in general ("...the Kings are still tops when it comes to cloning the old revved-up teenage macho blues of the Standells and the Count 5"), and the songwriting in particular: "...their own robust originals are almost indistinguishable from the forgotten frug-rock delights they cover here with such lusty vigor. That, however, should be taken as the highest compliment."

But even that review can't convince Prevost that Stop! signified anything other than a "loss of focus" and the "beginning of a downswing."

Insisting that to this day he prefers doing covers, Prevost implies that they were under pressure to come up with their own material. "Everybody was saying what a bunch of dummies we were, so we had to start writing stuff."

Of the effort, he self-deprecatingly states, "The lyrics are pretty stupid; the songs are really mindless." He adds, "We were writing stuff like 'I Cannot Find Her,' wimpy songs that weren't my kind of style. We thought, 'We like the Byrds, so let's do that kind of thing.' Only we weren't very good at it. I like folk rock, but I can't sing it. I don't think I did it right."

Meet the Chesterfield Kings at

Revolver Records - July 19, 1986

(For extra obscurity points, Stop! was recorded in the Rochester studios owned by Paul Curcio of the Mojo Men fame, and was produced by Aleck Janoulis, a founding member of Little Phil & the Night Shadows.)

If Stop! was, as Prevost believes, the "beginning of a downswing," then with Don't Open Til Doomsday (released in 1987), the band hit rock bottom.

Before they started working on their third album, the Kings underwent their first big lineup adjustment with the departure of Guran. "I was really bummed when he quit," says Prevost. "And it really killed Andy because they were best friends."

Walt O'Brien, Guran's replacement, was found in a rival garage group called the Insiders. O'Brien joined the Kings in time for their second trek to the West Coast in 1986 and the recording of Don't Open Til Doomsday, but it was a turbulent time for the guys.

"The band was falling apart," declares Prevost matter-of-factly. "We didn't know how to deal with Ori leaving. It really messed us up. The feeling we'd had of being pals and hanging out was gone."

Their newfound lack of camaraderie was apparent on the front cover of Doomsday. The inspiration for the photo came from an episode of The Outer Limits, but what it really showed was five incredibly gloomy-looking individuals.

In the studio with Dee Dee Ramone recording "Baby Doll"
Photo: Armand Schaubroeck

Although they might have stumbled here and there — most noticeably with "I'll Be Back Someday," which takes an unconvincing stab at singer/songwriter pathos — Doomsday isn't entirely without merit. There were several fine originals like "Selfish Little Girl," "Doin' Me Wrong," "I Can't Get Nothin'," and "Someday Girl." And rollicking versions of "I'll Go" (penned by T-Bone Burnett for the Cynics but never officially released) and "Time Will Tell" (a little-known Kinks' tune) neatly maintained a link with the garage-punk sound the group had outgrown while paving the way for a more hard rock stance.

Other highlights included the spirited "Baby Doll," written for the band by big fan Dee Dee Ramone, and the hard-hitting "Social End Product," originally recorded by New Zealand's Bluestars.

Don't Open Til Doomsday - released in 1987

The photo was based on an episode

of The Twilight Zone

Like its predecessor, Don't Open Til Doomsday was critically praised (The Trouser Press Record Guide commended the Kings' "less slavish sound," comparing it to late-'70s Flamin' Groovies). But again, Prevost is less than enthusiastic about the LP. He views Doomsday as a "mixed bag. Some of the stuff is okay, but overall I don't like it."

Prevost acknowledges that there was "a lot of conflict over what we were gonna sound like." And he cites friction from within the group as well as from without.

"I was sick of the jingle-jangle crap, all those folk rock songs that I couldn't sing, but we were afraid to change because we thought people would hate us. At the time, there were all these phony '60s groups, all these 'dedicated followers' who had just hopped on the wagon. They were putting us down, calling us phonies and heavy metal creeps! It really pissed me off because we'd been doing this for years, but they still expected us to sound like our first album."

Alluding to his (then little-guessed at) love for '70s glam rock, Prevost confides: "Personally, I wanted that record to sound like Slade. It doesn't sound anything like Slade. But that's what I wanted."

Record release party for the

Chesterfield Kings' EP "Next One in Line" 

December 6, 1991, at the Penny Arcade

The Chesterfield Kings' first European tour followed the release of Doomsday, but it found them without guitarist Cona, who had left before the album came out.

He was replaced by Mike Pappert, who had heard the group needed a new guitarist "through the grapevine."

Pappert was from a local outfit called the Ravens, which played in a style similar to the Kings. Although Prevost had never seen or heard Pappert's band, the guitarist "knew the songs, and had the right look and the right equipment." There was no time for a trial run before they left for Europe; Pappert joined immediately.

On the surface, the tour — which took in Sweden, Finland, Norway, Holland, Spain, Belgium, Germany, Italy, France, and England — was successful. Their early 45s and first two albums had made the Chesterfield Kings big news in Europe, and all 56 shows sold out. But onstage, they half-heartedly churned out the old material to audiences unprepared for their new direction.

"It was really a drag," grumbles Prevost, "because we had to do all those songs. We had to do 'She Told Me Lies' [from Stop!] because they wanted to hear it. And they really liked it, but we were so sick of it all. I just figured, 'I'm here. I gotta do it.'"

Andy Babiuk - 1985 San Francisco
Photo: Devorah Ostrov

When they returned to Rochester, O'Brien left the group citing musical differences. "He didn't see eye-to-eye with what we were doing," says Prevost. "We'd started doing MC5 and Dolls' covers, and Walt wasn't sure if he liked it. I think he did like it but couldn't admit it to himself. If he was drunk, he'd play like [MC5 guitarist] Wayne Kramer. But when he was straight, he'd play like John Lennon."

Instead of replacing O'Brien, they stayed a foursome and for the next couple of years they "drifted around doing nothing."

Other than contributing to the New Rose Laserock 'n' Roll compilation ("Time Will Tell") and a Kinks' tribute album ("Live Life" and "Rosy Won't You Please Come Home"), the only Kings' release during this period was Night Of The Living Eyes.

Proffering an assortment of rarities (including the long-lost second single) and live tracks which documented the group as it was between 1979-1983, Living Eyes symbolically nailed the coffin shut on the Chesterfield Kings Mark 1.

WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE? KISS!?

In the summer of '88, the band was invited to Berlin to participate in Europe's version of the New Music Seminar. On the verge of breaking up, the trip gave the group a much-needed reason to carry on. (It also provided an opportune honeymoon for Prevost and longtime girlfriend/fan club president Caroll Hebenstreit, who were married the day before departure.)

The Chesterfield Kings & The Cynics

Maxwells - January 17, 1987

Flyer: www.shakesomeaction.nyc

As part of the seminar, the Kings were put on display in a state-of-the-art German studio. Despite some distractions ("Guys from the press would come in and watch a band record"), they were able to hammer out two tracks: a tough-as-nails cover of Bo Diddley's (via the New York Dolls) "Pills" and "Come Back Angeline," another tune written for them by Dee Dee Ramone.

A one-off gig in Berlin also let them test out such newly penned originals as "Branded on My Heart" and "Teenage Thunder." In the year since Doomsday, the Kings had continued moving towards a heavier sound and now carried it off with confidence — although audience reaction was mixed.

"We got some guys saying, 'What you're doing is perfect,'" notes Prevost. But he also recollects one disgruntled fan wailing, "Who do you think you are? KISS!?"

Once back home, they thought about extending "Pills" and "Angeline" into an EP that would also include two originals. But before any recording commenced, drummer Meech unexpectedly split the group. He was replaced by Mike Pappert's brother, Andy. But just two months later, the Chesterfield Kings were again on the brink of demise.

Ori Guran - San Francisco 1985

Photo: Devorah Ostrov

No progress had been made on the EP, and in one quick move, both Pappert brothers left. It was "a mutual agreement to part ways," comments Prevost.

There was talk of hooking up with ex-New York Dolls Jerry Nolan and Syl Sylvain for a project, but nothing ever came of it. Then one day, Paul Rocco wandered into the House of Guitars.

A serious blues guitarist with a rep for his wild performances, Rocco occasionally put together pick-up groups to play the local clubs. Having seen one such band open for John Lee Hooker, Babiuk approached the guitarist about joining the Chesterfield Kings. "We tried him out," says Prevost, "and he was in. We didn't look any further."

Not only did Rocco join the Kings, he also introduced them to his friend Brett Reynolds, a powerful drummer with a shared enthusiasm for the Stones, Dolls and Yardbirds.

In 1989, the foursome headed to Ontario's GFI studios where, with Rocco's songwriting input and guitarist Richie Scarlet (best known for his work with Ace Frehley) handling production duties, the EP soon grew into a full-length LP.

Paraphrasing Phil Spector to tie in with their recent jaunt to Germany, The Berlin Wall Of Sound album was released in 1990, and the cover photo depicted the Kings in all their glam/trash glory (and posed not unlike the Dolls circa '73).

The Berlin Wall Of Sound - released 1990

The nine hard 'n' heavy originals included on the LP ranged from the adolescent fantasy of "Teenage Thunder" and the lovesick lament of "Branded on My Heart" to the macho braggadocio of "Dual Action":

"Well goin' to Detroit goin' far away
Pick up two girls on my way
Gonna ride 'em when I find 'em
Gonna ride 'em ride 'em all the way…"

For creep-out factor, there was "Richard Speck," an ode sung from the perspective of the infamous serial killer: "The voice in my head controls my mind/I got a problem I can't define/Eight nurses gone well that's too bad..." 

"That's the kind of music we wanted to do — really savage, basic rock 'n' roll," offers Prevost in defence of the song. "And I thought that would be a great title!"

And for pure indulgence, there was "Coke Bottle Blues," written in the style of traditional delta-blues, which featured Prevost's uncanny imitation of Howlin' Wolf.

Alternate pic from the "Next One in Line" photo shoot

Photo: Staff DeBruyne

Courtesy of: The Only Real Chesterfield Kings FB page
https://www.facebook.com/groups/1641279512771946/

With the Berlin Wall LP, the Kings gained a new, heavy metal fan base (and lost the last of the garage-punk diehards). Kerrang, England's premier metal 'zine, gave it a 4-K review. "They said we would've gotten 5-K's if we hadn't ripped off the Dolls so much," chuckles Prevost. Another write-up noted the "raw, Stonesy sound that suits swaggering tunes like 'Love-Hate-Revenge' and '(I'm so) Sick and Tired of You.'"

Prevost freely admits that Richie Scarlet had "a lot to do" with the album, especially in helping the band develop a less anachronistic perspective. The Kings first met Scarlet when they played a club near his home in Connecticut. "He came backstage afterwards, and we got to be friends," says Prevost. "He has the same mentality as us. He even likes the same TV shows!"

Drunk On Muddy Water - a limited edition CD

released in 1990

Scarlet rearranged much of the Kings' material to give it a more metal edge, and it was Scarlet who encouraged Prevost to vocally go all out on "Coke Bottle Blues."

"I really like Howlin' Wolf a lot," says Prevost, "and I was screwing around in the studio, trying to sing like him. Richie said, 'You sound just like a 300-pound black guy! Do that voice on this song!' I said, 'I dunno... it's kind of weird.' But Richie really liked it."

Obviously so did the band, as the song became the basis for Drunk On Muddy Water, a limited-edition CD issued on the heels of the Berlin Wall album, which featured their takes on such twelve-bar standards as "Bright Lights Big City," "Little Red Rooster," and "I'm Your Hoochie Coochie Man."

It was no secret that the Kings were blues enthusiasts. They sprinkled blues covers throughout their sets, while their list of British influences included a plethora of groups (Stones, Them, Yardbirds) whose sound owed a huge debt to American blues. And they spelled it out by dedicating their work to the likes of Jimmy Reed, Chester Burnett (aka Howlin' Wolf), Lighting Hopkins, and Blind Lemon Jefferson.

The King's 1989 Christmas postcard

announcing the release of The Berlin 
Wall Of Sound

For Muddy Water, the Kings were primarily concerned with achieving an authentic feel. To that end, they arranged to record a live set at Rochester's Red Creek Inn. "We had it all figured out," states Prevost. "Financially, it wasn't gonna cost us anything."

Although the show was a success, Prevost's vocals were completely lost in the mix. According to Schaubroeck's liner notes, he recommended the Kings go into a studio and record the tracks professionally. Instead, they opted to rent a club and set up a live atmosphere, playing through two microphones direct to a tape recorder.

"It was really primitive," allows Prevost (who's billed as "Yardbird" for the CD — not because of the band, but because of a Korean War photo of his father marked in that way). However, it wasn't quite as primitive as he and the liner notes ("One take, no overtracks, live and raw!") would have you believe.

"We did about 30 songs," Prevost confesses, "and we were making mistakes. So, we didn't use the songs with the mistakes."

The Kings took their blues set on a well-received seven-city tour of Canada, after which they settled back into the comfortable routine of not doing much. A cover of Status Quo's "Pictures of Matchstick Men" was contributed to the Hodge Podge Barrage From Japan compilation; an EP featuring their own tune "Next One in Line" b/w blistering renditions of "Talk Talk" and "You Drive Me Nervous" was issued in 1991; and a collaboration with Johnny Thunders resulted in a bootleg EP.

Producer and Ace Frehley guitarist Richie Scarlet with Greg Prevost

during the recording of The Berlin Wall Of Sound

Photo: Caroll Prevost
 courtesy of: The Only Real Chesterfield Kings FB page

https://www.facebook.com/groups/1641279512771946/

The collaboration with Thunders, which took place shortly before his death, came about through shared management. "We thought it would be cool to hook up with him," says Prevost, "and maybe do an album. It seemed easy enough, y'know. We brought him to Rochester and set up a show for him at Jazzberries. He looked tired, but the show was pretty good. It was an acoustic show, really — just him, another guitarist, and a sax player."

Prevost continues, "We had booked some recording time with GFI studios and we practiced some stuff the night before, but it was off and on. Johnny would start playing one song, then he'd go into something else. In the studio, he was kind of out of it. He had this idea where he didn't want the vocals to go with the drums. Then he started whining that Brett wasn't following him. Brett was like, 'Oh, man...' Johnny kept changing the rhythm. While he was playing, he would speed it up, slow it down. So, it's really weird when you listen to the record; Brett's just following when Johnny takes a breath to sing."

Johnny Thunders & the Chesterfield Kings

"Critic's Choice" 45

Their initial plan to record an LP with Thunders was scraped when the former New York Doll/ Heartbreaker passed away in New Orleans on April 23, 1991.

"We had started working on a bunch of songs," states Prevost, "but they were real sloppy with lots of mistakes. Nothing was finished. And it got to a point where Johnny was getting wigged out. He was gonna come back to finish the songs but... Well, you know what happened. 'Critic's Choice' was really the only song that was salvageable."

Because Thunders' sister objected to the song's US release, it was only officially issued as part of a GFI industry sampler; it was later bootlegged and imported into the United States from Japan. As well as "Critic's Choice," the EP also includes live versions (possibly with the Gang War lineup featuring Wayne Kramer) of the Oldham/Richards' tune "I'd Much Rather Be with the Boys" and Thunders' own punk anthem, "London Boys."

I DON'T WANNA SAY WE WERE RIPPING 'EM OFF BUT...

WE WERE

The Chesterfield Kings get into the idea of Let's Go Get Stoned 

by duplicating this advert for Sticky Fingers

With their latest album, Let's Go Get Stoned, the Kings have resumed doing what they enjoy most: pillaging from the Rolling Stones! And in this case, they go at it with gusto. "I don't wanna say we were ripping 'em off," balks Prevost, "but... yeah, we were."

Apparently, the sessions leading up to the LP began innocently enough. "We used to do 'Street Fighting Man' live," says Prevost, "and somebody suggested we cover it on a record." But it didn't take long for things to escalate. "So we got into the idea, and then we got into making it sound as close as we could, and then it happened with the whole record!"

With this in mind, originals were intentionally written to invoke comparisons to cool-period Stones' songs. "Long Ago, Far Away" is the Kings' "Sympathy for the Devil"; "Drunk House" is their "High and Dry"; "I'm so Confused, Baby" is their "2000 Light Years from Home" — with Babiuk going so far as to decipher and duplicate Brian Jones' backwards piano track!

Let's Go Get Stoned released 1994

Meanwhile, covers were chosen for their Stones' connections: "Can't Believe It" is an unknown and never officially released Jagger/Richards' composition, and Merle Haggard's "Sing Me Back Home" was discovered on a Keith Richards' bootleg. "We tried to give it a 'Dead Flowers' kind of feel," says Prevost of Haggard's mournful country ballad.

A bevy of guest stars lent their talents to the making of Let's Go Get Stoned: Gilby Clarke from Guns N' Roses played piano on "Street Fighting Man"; Kim Simmonds from Savoy Brown co-wrote and played lead guitar on "It's Getting Harder All the Time"; and Kim Fowley — described in the group's press release as a legendary performer, creator, mastermind and producer (and described by Prevost as "one of the most genius guys I ever met") — co-wrote "Rock n' Roll Murder."

But the biggest coup had to be the involvement of actual ex-Rolling Stone Mick Taylor. The guitarist played slide on the Kings' version of Mose Allison's (by way of the Yardbirds) "I'm Not Talking" (although Prevost's vocal attack owes more to "Get Off My Cloud" than to Keith Relf's more traditional approach).

Taylor just happened to be in the Rochester area when the band was recording, and they contacted him about playing on the album. "He already knew who we were," says Prevost, adding that Taylor was also "somewhat aware" of the Kings' sonic likeness to his previous combo.

Promotional postcard for

Let's Go Get Stoned

But why is Taylor featured on an old blues standard as opposed to either of the album's two Stones' covers?

"He said he would've liked to have played on 'Street Fighting Man,'" reveals Prevost, "and we were gonna have him play on 'Can't Believe It,' but he was kind of funny about it. It's some kind of honor thing with Keith Richards. They're still friends and he respects him."

As a finishing touch, the front cover of Stoned is a dead ringer for Aftermath, with Prevost surprisingly in Keith Richards' position — "Keith's my favorite," he states. They even thought to do the Mirror label in red and silver to match Aftermath's original mono colors. The concept looks better as an LP, but the CD has more photos and an additional track.

Three promo videos have already been shot, and fan response to the group's latest leaning has been positive. "Everybody really likes this one," remarks Prevost. "Guys that didn't like the last couple of albums because they thought we were too heavy metal, they like it."

Retro garage-punks, folk-pop purveyors, champions of glam rock, heavy metal contenders, delta-blues purists, or the next best thing to circa '66 Stones — which is the real Chesterfield Kings?

"I think this is it," asserts Prevost. "Even when we were doing the garage stuff, we ended up sounding like the Stones. I love bands like the Sweet or Queen, but we could never sound like them. I can't sing that good! So, we're just going to capitalize on the kind of stuff we can sound like."

Back cover photo from Let's Go Get Stoned with
the Kings posed like a 1960s Stones' publicity photo

1994 Postscript: Since the writing of this article, the Chesterfield Kings' lineup has again changed. The new lineup — as recently seen on USA's Up All Nite — includes Prevost on vocals, Babiuk on bass, Ted and Jeff Okolowicz on guitars, and Chris Hadlock on drums. They're currently working on a new LP and aim to tour Europe again later this year.

Other forthcoming projects include a double A-side single with longtime friends the Lyres (the Kings will do the Lyres' "She Pays the Rent" while the Lyres cover "She Told Me Lies"), as well as unspecified plans to work with Bo Diddley (with whom they played a special Christmas gig). Meanwhile, tribute albums to the Seeds and the Pretty Things featuring the Kings' versions of "Lose Your Mind" and "Rosalyn," respectively, should be out "any day now."

The Chesterfield Kings' 1994 Christmas card. The illustration was taken from the poster for the Bo Diddley Christmas Show and Freak Out on December 17, 1994.

For more information about the Chesterfield Kings and to keep up-to-date with Greg Prevost's solo career, check out his website at www.gregstackhouseprevost.com.

You can also join the Chesterfield Kings Facebook group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/1641279512771946/

The Jackson Saints: Rock & Roll Salvation

Originally published in BAM (probably 1991)
By Devorah Ostrov

Top row: Chuck Davis, Kevin Meade, Brent Hoover

Bottom Row: Erik Meade, Janis Tanaka

Photo: Jeanie M.

If rock bands had more in common with the British monarchy, the proclamation would be: The Jackson Saints are dead! Long live the Jackson Saints!

In late January, almost a year to the day he joined, vocalist Chuck Davis left the popular San Francisco-based club band. However, the four original members — guitarists Erik and Kevin Meade, bassist Janis Tanaka, and drummer Brent Hoover — will carry on, temporarily reverting to their initial set-up with Erik and Kevin sharing vocals, while the search begins for a new frontman.

While Davis' association with the band had its well-publicized tumultuous moments, the conversation on this night — at the group's first rehearsal without him — is free from any feelings of animosity.

Jackson Saints, Osgood Slaughter,

Mother Lode, T-Ride,

Bourbon Deluxe & Reckonball

Kennel Club - Friday, May 15, 1992

"Chuck's a great singer," states Kevin, the younger Meade brother, "but we had different ideas about where we wanted to go musically. He came out one day and said he didn't think it was right."

Still, there's no doubt that Davis' departure will prove at least a minor setback. Especially as it comes at a time when the group is reportedly being checked out by some major record companies.

"I think that's part of why Chuck chose to leave," explains Hoover, "before it got too serious, and it was too late for him to turn around."

Until a deal is inked, the band prefers not to say which labels are expressing interest. But with or without Davis, the Jackson Saints' riff-oriented, heavy rock sound has an undeniable appeal; it's already created at least one fan out of the reps who've come to see them. "There's this one A&R woman who's always looking for a good reason to come up to San Francisco," says Tanaka, "and one of her reasons is that we're playing."

When the band started out, talk of recording deals was a far-fetched concept. Even now, they have a problem of conceiving just how far they've come.

"I'm still amazed that we're successful at all," says Hoover, "because we aren't a band that I think of as being a success. It was always the big attitude bands that got popular; it was never a band like this."

What Hoover means by "this" is simple: "It's the music first, us later."

"Volume first!" corrects Erik.

Jackson Saints snuggle up!

L-R: Janis Tanaka, Erik Meade, Chuck Davis, Kevin Meade & Brent Hoover

Photo: Jeanie M.

Taking their name from what's believed to be a school's team logo on a faded sweatshirt and their musical direction from the Dictators' Manifest Destiny album, the Jackson Saints began life as the house band for the SF club Chatterbox (now called the Chameleon). "At the time," remarks Kevin, "that was the only place where our kind of music could be played."

But the group's reputation spread quickly by word of mouth ("It had to be," offers Hoover, "we never pushed ourselves.") and they were soon headlining the larger I-Beam. Kevin recalls: "We thought, 'Nobody's gonna be here. Why did they have us headlining?' When we got onstage the whole building was crammed full!"

However, it was playing last year's Haight Ashbury Street Fair that the band acknowledges as the high point of its career. "We stood on the stage and as far back as we could see there were people," marvels Hoover. "And even if they didn't know we were playing, we considered them the audience!"

Jackson Saints and 4 Non Blondes

Kennel Club - Wednesday, January 16, 1991

Then there was the recent foray to Los Angeles, with Davis still on hand, which gave Southern Californian fans an exciting photo opportunity (really, despite sensationalistic reports, not every Jackson Saints' gig includes a brawl).

Kevin: This punk band from Orange County was opening the show. During our set, they started throwing this stuff at Erik...

Tanaka: Yelling, "Get off the stage, hippies!"

Erik: So I brained one of them with my guitar!

Kevin: Erik wielded his guitar like a hatchet; he dived into the audience. We had a great shot of it on the videotape!

Tanaka: When we called our manager and told her there was a fight at the show, she said, "What?" And Erik yells, "But it wasn't with each other, it was with the audience. It's OK!"

Bonus backstory regarding the photograph at the top of the page: "There's a funny anecdote to go with the picture taken outside the house," says Erik. "Just as we were taking it, there was a high-speed police car chase that came rushing down the street. As the car they were pursuing ran the red light at the end of the block, it got broadsided and careened into a telephone pole. The driver flew through the passenger side window, hit the ground, and without pausing for a second took off running down the street on foot. I said, 'Oh, this is too perfect. We've got to get a band shot in front of that car.' So, we all started posing in front of it and Jeanie started shooting. One of the photos had a clearly unamused cop walking towards us in the background. I know that there was at least one print made of that shot, but I haven't seen it in over 25 years, so it must be buried in a box somewhere."

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Jackson Saints live at the Kennel Club

performing their anthem: "Rock and Roll Salvation"