1960s
Around 1966-7 I was in a teenage band called The HiLites. At 16, I was the oldest member of the band. To an extent this band was chaperoned/controlled/guided by a few influential parents. One of the great and memorable anecdotal quotes from that period is "my boy ain't playin' none of that psychedelic music." Nice! I never forgot that one.
While sorting through storage boxes of memories at my mom's house, I found this music chart for the " The Late Late Show." Backstory: The HiLites had an arranger --Jim Spellman--who was paid to prepare charts, attend a rehearsal every so often and guide us kids through some really good arrangements. He placed the guitar between the trumpet and saxophone for a sweet and functional three part voicing. Very nice. I was the only one in the band who didn't read music. I'm sure Jim cringed many times as he heard me butchering his cool arrangements as I bashed through the music relying on my (supposedly) good ear. The kids in the band liked me, too bad for the arranger. I apologize Jim. That must have been horrible for you. We played "The Look of Love," "Girl Talk," "Meditation," etc. We also played "Mickey's Monkey," "Soulfinger," "The Philly Dog," and this chart which I just found at my mom's house--"The Late Late Show." Here is a great performance of “The Late Late Show” by Nat King Cole.
The HiLites, the first band I was in, was chaperoned by the parents. They would book and drive us to gigs at various enlisted men's clubs at NTC (Naval Training Center), the Naval Hospital near Balboa Park, Miramar Naval Air Station, North Island, Kearney High School, and a battle of the bands at Taft Junior High School. As I'm writing this so many memories are popping up. More on that later.
This was around 1967. Let's travel back a few years before that.
At age 8, third grade, about 1959, I came home from school one day and my mom had gifted me a plastic ukulele. Neither my mom or dad were musicians however my dad could play and sing depression era folk songs and train songs. My mom knew how to read music. She would play the notes from a few old folk song books. This is how I originally learned. I played the Suwanee River for my third grade class. I blew it on the first or second note of the song and said "whoops." About 30 third-graders busted into laughter with me. Ha! It was fun. I wasn't embarrassed. I just started up again and played it to the end. All the kids broke out in applause.
My main influences at the time were The Kingston Trio, The Limelighters as well as performers we would see at the coffee houses of the late 1950s and early 60s. There was a fellow named Pat Foster that comes to mind. He played the ballad of John Henry which for me was one of the coolest songs. There was a coffee house on El Cajon Blvd. in San Diego, CA called the upper seller which, even though it was at street level, was designed to look like a cellar. There is a poster on the wall behind the performer on stage that was of a beat-nick looking character--dark shades, beret, goatee, etc.--with a caption underneath saying “big brother is watching.” Looking back from my 10-year-old perspective, it looked cool but I was not sure of the meaning. Perhaps a political statement in the aftermath of the McCarthy era? I don't know…you can Google the Upper Celler in San Diego, California and probably find some pictures.
At this point I did not know there was a style of music called Blues. What did stick out for me is that I loved the songs where the performer would bend the string to change its pitch…whoa…that was super cool. After moving to Seattle around 1962, my parents took me to a concert featuring Josh White. I figured if they thought it was cool I probably wouldn't like it. Boy was I wrong. This was the first time I'd actually seen an Afro-American blues singer. He knocked my socks off. I remember saying to my dad “every song he did was great.” My dad answered “that's The Blues.” He even got me backstage to meet Josh who was drenched in sweat after his performance with a towel draped around his neck and smoking a cigarette. Growing up in an all white neighborhood I had never seen a black guy up close before. Wow, he was bigger than life, like Paul Bunyan or John Henry or something. He was also very gracious and signed my concert pamphlet “Robert, I wish you best always, Josh White.” As you can imagine this was a very impactful moment in my life. Josh had a particular mannerism when he was smoking a cigarette and performing. You may have seen guitar players put a cigarette between the strings and the headstock of their guitar to hold the cigarette while playing. Josh would put a lit cigarette behind his ear. I think audiences experienced mild anxiety as the cigarette burned closer to his hair and ear. At the end of the song he would grab it and take a puff. If you google Josh White and browse images, you'll probably find a picture of this. His performance of “One Meatball” has inspired my performances of that song to this day.