IF YOU walked into Madison Square Garden ten minutes after the show began last night you would have heard strains of Steve Still's "Love The One You're With" echoing throughout the building, and you might possibly have thought that it couldn't be "The 1960's British Rock Invasion Revisited" until you saw Wayne Fontana standing in the middle of the stage surrounded by the Mindbenders.
The Garden was more than half full, most of the crowd having spent the seven dollars to get the best seats. It was a cozy feeling for an arena that holds about 20,000 people. Looking towards the stage one could see the silhouettes of thousands of heads, bobbing up and down in time to the music - and one rather worn and tattered Union Jack held aloft on a wooden stick, being waved back and forth a bit desperately.
Left-over
Meanwhile Wayne and the band had finished and Wayne, dressed in perhaps a left-over grey suit, pants and vest with purple shirt, was rapping at the audience, and getting the kind of reaction that proved just having a British accent doesn't make you a star here anymore. The rest of the band looked like refugees from the J. Geils' Band in a set of Carnaby Street discards that included red satin jumpsuits and bare hairy chests and full beards on both the lead and bass guitarist. It never would have been allowed in the good old days.
Wayne broke into "one More Time" and a wave of nostalgia swept through the audience. But the next tune was "Love Train" and everyone groaned. What kind of a revival was this anyway? As if sensing the mood of the audience, "Game of Love" came next with Wayne manning a tambourine and trying to get the audience to clap along. He began to sing something called "Sweet America," then stopped - flashing a peace sign (a peace sign!) and left the stage. Wayne did come back for a very short reprise of the song, and disappeared for good.
Gerry and the Pacemakers were next. Gerry came bouncing out onstage in a powder blue denim jacket and trouser outfit with a while t-shirt. Flashes of instamatics filled the hall, obviously Gerry held more memories for the fans than Wayne.
"How Do Ya Do What Ya Do To Me" came first, the instamatics flashed some more, and then the group went into "Rockin' Pneumonia" and "Ferry Cross The Mersey."
"I Like It" and "Don't Let The Sun Catch You Crying" went over well, but then Gerry tried to sing the Rascals/Beatles/Perkins "Slow Down" and seemed to have totally lost track of the words. After a few attempts, a sort of acceptably garbled version of the song was done. The audience brought him back for an encore, and he sang something that I swear sounded like "Give Peace A Chance" over a medley of Chuck Berry riffs.
The Searchers ended up the first half of the show with a glorious version of "Sweets For My Sweet." Then they did Leslie Uggams "Love Song" which went on for ten minutes, accompanied by much psychedelic instrumental passages that made it seem almost as if the group was passing on 1964, trying to revive 1967 early.
Hissing
After "Love Potient Number 9" and "Every Time That You Walk In A Room" they broke into "You've Got A Friend" with the added assistance of their road manager on piano. Following was "Southern Man" (Neil Young) which could be differentiated from "You've Got A Friend" because their road manager didn't play piano. Both songs seemed to go on for hours and hours, with long guitar solos, and the audience muttering to themselves, dozing off, or hissing. The Searchers ended up their set with a great version of "Needles and Pins," ruined only by an encore of a Loggins and Messina song that featured a twenty minute drum solo that sounded not unlike someone trying to beat his way out of a paper bag with a spoon.
At the start of the second half MC and promoter of the concert Richard Nader came out onstage to announce that there soon might
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be more of these shows with other acts, news that was greeted with mild applause only. Then he introduced Billy J. Kramer and the Dakotas.
Billy J. came out onstage almost knocking Nader over, jumping up and down in a white jacket, black pants, purple shirt, and he opened up with a number stolen out of somebody's Las Vegas act. Announcing that he was going to do a medley of his hits, Billy J. proceeded to sing a number of songs that didn't sound like a medley, including "Do You Wanna Know A Secret" and "Trains and Boats and Planes" and as he started to sing "I'll Keep You Satisfied" he suddenly ran to the edge of the stage and jumped into the audience. With only one arm visible he stayed in the audience singing "I Call Your Name" and "From A Window." He wasn't exactly mobbed, but at least nobody hit him.
Climbing back onstage Billy J. sang "Bad To Me" and "Little Children" after announcing that it was being re-released as his new single. In the middle of "Little Children" he jumped back into the audience and then climbed back onstage for "The Sun Ain't Gonna Shine Anymore." The Walker Brothers he is not.
By this time many people were staring at the ceiling or talking amongst themselves. Suddenly came the sound of Billy's voice, noticeably deeper in an Elvis imitation, singing "I'm dreaming of a White Christmas, just like the ones we used to know . . ." and for three minutes he sang the song, straight. Legs Larry would have loved it.
Star time
To top "White Christmas" Billy J. went into a version of "That'll Be The Day" which might have caused Buddy Holly to turn over in his grave. "Games People Play" was next and then some song about "Freedom" with that particular word being repeated over and over again and the rest not making any sense. Then, flashing peace signs, Billy jumped into the audience again. This time nobody seemed to pay attention.
Since there was only one more act on the bill, it obviously had to be star time. (For seven bucks somebody had to be the star.) Herman's Hermits filed out onstage and started singing a song that went "Hello, hello, good to be back . . ." Then Peter Noone came prancing out and the audience was on its feet, finally excited for the first time all evening. Herman picked up the melody from the band and sang "Didja miss me while I was away? Did you hang my picture on your wall?" The audience screamed yes, and Herman, looking cute in a Dutch boy blond haircut, white pants and a brown and white print, grinned back, waving his arms and starting to sing a medley of hits that included "Can't Ya Hear My Heartbeat," "Silhouettes," "Wonderful World," "No Milk Today," and "She's A Must To Avoid."
"I'm Into Something Good" came next and Herman went to the piano and played while he sang a slow Hollies song that was the only down point of the set. "Dandy," "Leaning On A Lamp Post," and "Mrs. Brown You've Got A Lovely Daughter," followed. At this point Herman did "I'm Henry The Eighth" and had the entire audience laughing and singing along.
For an encore, "There's A Kind of Hush" filled the hall and a few screams as well. Following lots of applause for saving the evening, Herman left the stage.
There was something sad about the evening, despite the fact that Herman's Hermits were marvellous, but then - there is something inherently sad about all "revivals." One can understand the desire on the parts of these musicians to show how they've changed and/or "grown" since 1964 (although whether or not "You've Got A Friend" implies growth is debatable), but they cannot be excused for being willing to appear as part of a REVIVAL and then doing those songs.
Part of the fault lies with the American audiences for having created the phenomenon and the atmosphere in the first place in 1964 that allowed almost any British group coming over to be considered part of Beatlemania. Maybe it's just too early to revive that period of time . . . one certainly hopes that all these revivals don't get out of hand; can you imagine in two years time having a "GLAMROCK REVIVAL" . . . with Marc, David, Gary, et al prancing out onstage tossing sequins about?
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