Welcome Paradoxers!
This blogspot will be our new home to share updates on everyone's new cd's, links to music venues, and other activities.
You can also post remembrances, photos, and any other memorabilia you would like to share. It would be great if this could become like an archive for the Paradox -- then and now.
More information to follow as I figure this out. In the meantime, please add your comments and keep the site alive and growing.
Friday, May 30, 2008
Will the real Doctor please stand up?
We had Dr. West and his Medicine Show, but somehow we missed another famous Doctor and his motley crew of medicine men.
I think there is another paradoxer hidden therein?
I like to use the line that playing music is the most fun you can have with your clothes on. Hook changed all that. You have to remember the era. I joined in the fall of 71 when we were cutting Shel's "Freakin at the Freaker's Ball" album, and we set out to break as many rules (and a number of laws) as possible.
Shel had a huge following in Europe, and a Danish TV network had sent a camera crew over to film an interview and jam with him and us on his houseboat in Sausalito. They brought their substances, we brought our substances, and our friends and hangers on brought theirs. I think the only legal one was the bourbon.
After we had gotten deep into mayhem, we kind of lost track of what we were doing, and Ray asked the Danes what they'd like us to do next. OUR photographer said, "I don't know, but you should do it naked."
"Larry, it's a damned TV show. Sober up."
And one of the Danes said, "Yes, you should do it naked."
We looked at each other, decided to see just how serious they were, and proceded to strip right there. I think Dennis left his socks on. It was a good day to be a guitar player, and I surreptitiously lengthened my strap to have my Strat ride a bit lower. And we launched into a 12-bar blues and Dennis made up the High Flyin Eagle Blues on the spot. It was about as crude as.... It was just plain filthy. And had the Danes howling with laughter.
I don't remember much after that, and the next day we took our hangovers back into the studio and went back to work. We literally forgot about the whole deal. Somehow, it kind of faded into unremarkability.
We released our "Sloppy Seconds" album a few months later and released a few singles that went nowhere in the States, but we were getting these insane sales statistics from Scandinavia. 50,00 0 album sales in Denmark. If you do the math, it comes out to every family buying two or three. likewise Norway and Sweden. It made no sense at all, but it seemed like it would be a good idea to book a tour. We sold out the Tivoli in a day, and couldn't figure out what was going on.
So when we got over there we did the big press conference and somebody wheeled in a big TV set and said, "Have you seen this?" It was the Shel special, and there were were in all our stoned and naked, uh, glory. It was actually very funny. And it had made us huge stars over there. So for the final show of our Tivoli run, we streaked the stage for our encore. They're still selling posters of it over there. Ray leads the parade with both arms up doing the Nixon double V salute, and I follow him. One of his arms obscures my face, but that's all it obscures. My grandmother would have been so proud.
Forget about it. But if you ever find yourself in Scandinavia, drop into one of the local headshops. I'll bet you can still get one.
That "Rolling Stone" video is interesting on a number of levels, though. For one thing, it was live on British TV, and it's obviously from before there were affordable portable tuners. Dennis and Ray just riff, live, while Dennis gets his tuning close enough to be usable. No pressure there, eh?
I got my first electric guitar and brought it to the Paradox in 67, and Don Adey (remember the English brothers from Coventry?) showed me my first electric riffs there. By 73, when that video was done, it appears that I'd become a passable country guitar player. All the electric stuff you hear, until George freaks out, is me.
Dennis, besides being one of the finest natural musicians I've ever met, was also a first class comedian, and could come up with stuff on the fly that would have me laughing so hard I couldn't play. He was FAST.
We did a show at the Tennessee State Prison, just outside of Nashville, that I'll never forget. For openers, we all had to sign a waiver stating that in the event that we were taken prisoner, we had no legal right to expect to be rescued. And the entire entertainment committee was doing life for murder. The very scary looking audience was glad we were there, but they wanted some entertainment and they wanted it in a hurry. Richard Pryor was right. There are people in prison that you want to STAY in prison.
So we seven, very white hippies went out and did our thing to a mildly appreciative crowd and it was kind of iffy until Dennis took a bit too long introducing a song. From the back we heard a harsh angry voice. I couldn't make out much of what he said, but for the last two words. It was "Grumble grumble grumble rasp growl WHITE BOY!!!"
Dennis looked up, and without missing a beat, said in kind of an amazed voice, "White Boy? Wow, that's what my mother calls me."
They just went nuts applauding, laughing, and cheering. He had them eating out of his hand for the rest of the show.
Oh, speaking of tuners, Gary will appreciate this.
We all had spare guitars so that the road crew could restring for us when we broke one, but tuning one to pitch meant blowing a harmonica and tuning to it. With a rock band playing 30 feet away. I'd have had trouble doing it myself, and these guys weren't players. (Even though we stole them from the Allman Brothers).
So it got dwon to me lobbying management for the money to buy a Petersen Strobe Tuner, like the ones school bands use. They cost something like $300 a pop and this was back when a dollar would buy you 3 gallons of gas.
So I brought it up at a band meeting. "Guys, we've got to get a tuning machine." And the roadies were just beside themselves. "What you guys can't tune your guitars? (har har)
I said, "No. YOU can't." And I got my tuning machine.
Well... Susan's brother Matt lives in Copenhagen, so I guess I'll see if he can run down the the poster and archive footage. We'll see if The real Doctor is standing erect or flying at half mast.
14 comments:
On the cover of The Rolling Stone! LOVE the mustache Rik.
We thinks we be lookin at Dr. Hook? Right?
I showed this photo to my daughter and her comment was "look how much fun they were having!"
Must have been all those great Shel Silverstein lyrics. And the fact they did indeed make it to the cover of Rolling Stone!
Maybe Rik can fill us in.
p.s.
Bob and Helen:
Right!
I like to use the line that playing music is the most fun you can have with your clothes on. Hook changed all that. You have to remember the era. I joined in the fall of 71 when we were cutting Shel's "Freakin at the Freaker's Ball" album, and we set out to break as many rules (and a number of laws) as possible.
Shel had a huge following in Europe, and a Danish TV network had sent a camera crew over to film an interview and jam with him and us on his houseboat in Sausalito. They brought their substances, we brought our substances, and our friends and hangers on brought theirs. I think the only legal one was the bourbon.
After we had gotten deep into mayhem, we kind of lost track of what we were doing, and Ray asked the Danes what they'd like us to do next. OUR photographer said, "I don't know, but you should do it naked."
"Larry, it's a damned TV show. Sober up."
And one of the Danes said, "Yes, you should do it naked."
We looked at each other, decided to see just how serious they were, and proceded to strip right there. I think Dennis left his socks on. It was a good day to be a guitar player, and I surreptitiously lengthened my strap to have my Strat ride a bit lower. And we launched into a 12-bar blues and Dennis made up the High Flyin Eagle Blues on the spot. It was about as crude as.... It was just plain filthy. And had the Danes howling with laughter.
I don't remember much after that, and the next day we took our hangovers back into the studio and went back to work. We literally forgot about the whole deal. Somehow, it kind of faded into unremarkability.
We released our "Sloppy Seconds" album a few months later and released a few singles that went nowhere in the States, but we were getting these insane sales statistics from Scandinavia. 50,00 0 album sales in Denmark. If you do the math, it comes out to every family buying two or three. likewise Norway and Sweden. It made no sense at all, but it seemed like it would be a good idea to book a tour. We sold out the Tivoli in a day, and couldn't figure out what was going on.
So when we got over there we did the big press conference and somebody wheeled in a big TV set and said, "Have you seen this?" It was the Shel special, and there were were in all our stoned and naked, uh, glory. It was actually very funny. And it had made us huge stars over there. So for the final show of our Tivoli run, we streaked the stage for our encore. They're still selling posters of it over there. Ray leads the parade with both arms up doing the Nixon double V salute, and I follow him. One of his arms obscures my face, but that's all it obscures. My grandmother would have been so proud.
And no, I'm not going to post it.
What a GREAT story to start the day with. Thanks, Rik!
Aw come on Rik, you sucked us in with the story so the next logical step would be Pics and The Poster. Those were some crazy times for sure!
Well, they _kind of_ have their clothes on here, but you might get some idea about what Rik was talking about.
Rik looks very stoical in all of this:
http://snipurl.com/2eh46
[www_noolmusic_com]
Hey! We want you to post the poster! We'll use it on the next reunion flier.
Forget about it. But if you ever find yourself in Scandinavia, drop into one of the local headshops. I'll bet you can still get one.
That "Rolling Stone" video is interesting on a number of levels, though. For one thing, it was live on British TV, and it's obviously from before there were affordable portable tuners. Dennis and Ray just riff, live, while Dennis gets his tuning close enough to be usable. No pressure there, eh?
I got my first electric guitar and brought it to the Paradox in 67, and Don Adey (remember the English brothers from Coventry?) showed me my first electric riffs there. By 73, when that video was done, it appears that I'd become a passable country guitar player. All the electric stuff you hear, until George freaks out, is me.
Dennis, besides being one of the finest natural musicians I've ever met, was also a first class comedian, and could come up with stuff on the fly that would have me laughing so hard I couldn't play. He was FAST.
We did a show at the Tennessee State Prison, just outside of Nashville, that I'll never forget. For openers, we all had to sign a waiver stating that in the event that we were taken prisoner, we had no legal right to expect to be rescued. And the entire entertainment committee was doing life for murder. The very scary looking audience was glad we were there, but they wanted some entertainment and they wanted it in a hurry. Richard Pryor was right. There are people in prison that you want to STAY in prison.
So we seven, very white hippies went out and did our thing to a mildly appreciative crowd and it was kind of iffy until Dennis took a bit too long introducing a song. From the back we heard a harsh angry voice. I couldn't make out much of what he said, but for the last two words. It was "Grumble grumble grumble rasp growl WHITE BOY!!!"
Dennis looked up, and without missing a beat, said in kind of an amazed voice, "White Boy? Wow, that's what my mother calls me."
They just went nuts applauding, laughing, and cheering. He had them eating out of his hand for the rest of the show.
I knew there would be some stories behind that photograph and that video ("not on television man... not on television").
All kinds of pills and all kinds of thrills.... As my daughter said, "look how much fun they were having!"
Rik, you should write a book.
I've got to wait until a whole bunch of people die, or until I can afford better lawyers.
Oh, speaking of tuners, Gary will appreciate this.
We all had spare guitars so that the road crew could restring for us when we broke one, but tuning one to pitch meant blowing a harmonica and tuning to it. With a rock band playing 30 feet away. I'd have had trouble doing it myself, and these guys weren't players. (Even though we stole them from the Allman Brothers).
So it got dwon to me lobbying management for the money to buy a Petersen Strobe Tuner, like the ones school bands use. They cost something like $300 a pop and this was back when a dollar would buy you 3 gallons of gas.
So I brought it up at a band meeting. "Guys, we've got to get a tuning machine." And the roadies were just beside themselves. "What you guys can't tune your guitars? (har har)
I said, "No. YOU can't." And I got my tuning machine.
Well... Susan's brother Matt lives in Copenhagen, so I guess I'll see if he can run down the the poster and archive footage. We'll see if The real Doctor is standing erect or flying at half mast.
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