THG BEAT GOES ON

THG GCAT GOES ON

A Cose of Mistaken Identity

Ingenious Boy Photographer had a real good idea when he saw those five banners of beauty queendom at the garage sale that day. “Five for five bucks, take it or leave it,” growled the suburban proprietor. Boy Photographer thought this was some good find, so he forked over the fiver.

For many years the satin proclamations of poise, personality and talent for the lovely ladies of Miss Manhattan, Miss Queens, Miss Brooklyn, Miss Bronx and Miss Staten Island gathered dust in the back of our hero’s closet. For some reason he wouldn’t let his old lady throw them out when she did her spring cleaning. Even as Boy became more prosperous and rock promoters stopped calling him Hey Shutter-Bug, and big name rock stars stared deep into his Nikon lenses, Boy

refused to let Beuldh, the cleaning lady, touch his tattered treasures.

Finally, B.P. knew just what end his beautiful banners were meant for. To be draped upon the bejeweled and bedazzling New York Dolls. Maybe even for their very next album cover. Being in with the in crowd for all these years, B.P. knew just the right names to say to get in to see the keeper of the deliriously delicious Dolls.

The very next time B.P. came to the City, he picked up the phone, dialed and said: “Leee Black Childers says I oughta come up and see you. I have a real good idea for an album cover, and I’d like to show it to you.”

One hour later, our lad entered the offices of the keeper of the Dolls, the honorable Marty Thau. Very early Brill Building. After

they shook hands, B.P. removed the banners from his case.

“Do you know what these are?” he asked eagerly.

Marty looked dumbfounded as he read “Miss Staten Island, Miss' Manhattan . .. ”

Our guy quickly continued: “I think you should^ dress up the New York Dolls in drag. Bathing suits, you know, and we’ll put one of these across each of their chests, put them on the runway at Atlantic City ,.. maybe we could even get Bert Parks and ... ”

“Hey, whaddya think this is a fag band, fella? You think we’re gonna end up playing •every homo club in America!”

“But, but...,” sputters B.P., “the New York Dolls’ image is definitely a ... ”

Livid with anger, Mr.., Marty Thau reached toward his desk, picked up the last album cover, and roughly shoved it at B.P. as he indignantly demanded: “Does this look like a drag band to you?” With a rude gesture, mild mannered Marty impatiently motioned our guy towards the door.

Jaan Uhelszki

Polack Rock?

Q. What do you get when you cross a midget with a Polack?

A. A short garbageman.

Wanna bet? Michael Urbaniak is no Polack joke, but a virtuoso violinist from Poland — a man not to be laughed at. Urbaniak is a massive man, a heavy featured hulk of Eastern European manhood, who wouldn’t look out of place on the set of Ben Hur, with brass bands on his wrists.

Q. What is the smallest building in Poland?

A. The Polish Hall of Fame.

Not for long. Urbaniak has been voted the European Jazz Man of the Year by Jazz Forum Magazine, and his band has been highly acclaimed throughout Europe. Acclaimed but not described. Jazz? Some say his music is more like the soundtrack of a Hoover vacuum cleaner sweeping up razor blades,, others say jazz gone gypsy. When confronted, Urbaniak will smirk and playfully describe his music as “folkrock-jazz.”

The music is a nonverbal dialogue qf sound, exploring places where words no longer are useful, and the eardrums are guided by sheer instinct.

In three giant strides, Urbaniak is center stage. Feet planted firmly on the wooden floor, he cradles his violin beneath his heavy bearded chin, poising it as if it were a thirty-ought-six. He moves his heavy browed eyes across the audience, sizing it up, and in slow precise English he announces: We are here to play music for you.” It’s more of a challenge than a proclamation. Licking his two fingers, he takes a bow in his hands, twists his dark mustache with slow deliberation, then he begins to stroke his violin. First, with a caress, then more violently, as if he is sawing firewood in a blizzard. His wife Ursula adds more sound to the already mounting fury. Strange sounds. Her voice — perfect, an exotic birdcall; then you would swear she is lipsyncing the violin. She rivals her husband’s instrument, as her voice eases in and out of his haunting melodies. First she is a perfect mesh, then the foil. Ursula is a carnival of noises. A roller coaster complete with the screams. She whines, she scats, she warbles, and then reaches for her percussion playthings: the bells, the chimes, and even the gourds to add further dimension to the audial experience. She is the Girl from Ipanema by way of Warsaw.

I would have bet all my kielbasa that they were going to play the polka, but instead they reached into this incredible bag of Polish tricks. As their set progresses, their thunder turns to funk, so that even Stevie Wonder would be comfortable in this musical company. “When we first started, the first five years, we wanted to be like the black American musicians,” confesses Urbaniak. Years of classical violin and philharmonic halls, and the guy wants to be from the Motor City, while his wife wanted to be Billie Holiday. They admire Diana Ross and Wonder, but their sound is nowhere near Motown. I would have bet Ursula wanted to be a saxophone when she grew up. What these comrades want is to “conquer America” with their unique brand of music. “Herbie Hancock paved the way for us,” announces Michael, “so now there is room for us to progress.”

Jimi's in Good Hoods At Lost

"The story is serious/' wrote our favorite publicist Ken Schaffer, "the picture, however, is humus (I mean amusing)." Okay, so hmmm and hardehar, here's the scoop. All you Hendrixites out there can get your sonar gunning again because about 200 boxes of previously unavailable Hendrix studio masters are just about to get sprung open for your delectation. Here we see them arriving at Shaggy Dog Studios in Stockbridge, Mass., for project coordinator Alan Douglas' delectation and overtime, having been transferred from New York in Berkshire.Armored Car with heavy guard: Shaggy Dog chief engineer Ralph Mazza, Dog president Gordon Rose, the Berkshire man who would identify himself only, tersely, as "Spike," a vicious dog and fanged duck. This Seventies-style security system, having already been effectively utilized under pressurized circumstances by the Who, Clapton and Ted Nugent, is next being considered for either the Kathryn Kuhlman Caravan or "Dwight" Eisenhower's comeback tour.

Those are strong words for a man who learned how to play jazz from listening to the jazz broadcasts coming over the Voice of America. He used to listen to Willis Connover’s Jazz Hour every night and then copy what he heard. They also had to write the lyrics off the wireless, and they were all in English. Who else can claim they learned how to speak English off the radio?

Urbaniak swears that “The States and New York is the jazz capital of the world*” Hence, the Americanization of Urbaniak. In his shoulder length hair, and purple knit “Second Annual Saratoga Frisbee Festival” T-shirt, I’m sure he’ll have no trouble passing for a second string supporter of the Woodstock Nation, although the music comes nowhere near Mom’s apple pie, or Nathan’s hot dogs.

Q. How do Polacks make music?

A. Just ask an Urbaniak.

Jaan Uhelszki

Comics: A Nice Con

On July 4, the Qity of New York drains itself of inhabitants and rests, except for the comic fans who gather from all over the country so they can. attend the New York Comic Art Convention, drink too much coffee, and zip through the Hotel Commodore like lemmings on speed, looking for that elusive copy of Dynamo or The Flash.

It was a nice Con this year. The Spirit was there in the flesh; Will Eisner, legendary creator of The Spirit got a standing ovation from fans who hadn’t been born when the Spirit retired, replaced by Green Lantern. Bob Kane, not so legendary creator of the legendary Batman, was there churning out lots of cartoons for the Jcids. They gave prizes to Marvel editor Roy Thomas and National writer/artist Joe Simon for being such heavies.

This year, there weren’t so many thefts in the Dealers’ Room, on both sides of the table. On the other hand, a couple of artists were complaining that there were never any girls at the comics conventions; that there were lots more chicks at the science fiction be-ins. All the women who work in professional comics, seven, were on a panel to talk about women’s issues, and why there were no women in comics. The pressing question was whether it was alright for women super heroes to kick Out teeth and smash walls while wearing short-shorts and chain mail.

The big news was that Jim Starlin, late of Captain Marvel, would be taking over complete control of Marvel’s Warlock. This reporter got a look at Starlin’s first Warlock and I just wanna say that I don’t think it will get past the censors intact. Not that it offends community standards of decency and good taste, but you should look for a narrator called “Sphinc-tor” and a beaver shot of a girl in a “space-suit.” And there’s going to be another comic book company, Seaboard.

Once again, nobody showed up nude at the costume parade; not even Invisible Girl. Maybe those artists have a point; alia time girls show up at science fiction conventions with their nose cones hanging out. Maybe things will look better when the Leather Nun shows...

Mike Baron

The CheeseCake

Stands Alone

Mary Travers is sitting length-wise on her hotel bed. Her extraordinary long legs extend almost to its edge. She looks the same as she did ten years ago. Her hair is still white blond and super straight, reaching the middle of her back. The optimism which has alwayscharacterized her singing, that' clenched-fist-do-gooder determination, which excluded the possibility of defeat and eschewed cynicism, remains as persistent as ever. But that ebullience now seems a little strained, a little too affected — a pose to reaffirm her past, reestablish her youth.

The night before she had jumped off the" stage during her last song and run among the audience, exhorting them, to sing along, She was like a suburban mother, feigning little girl innocence and boundless energy, while playing with her children. It seemed all out of synch. “Half of being a mother,” she later said, talking about her own children, “is self-serving your own anxiety.”

Flashback: I960. Peter Paul and Mary were just another Greenwich Village trio. Unlike almost everybody else in the music scene, Travers didn’t come to the Village, but grew up there, just below Houston Street in Little Italy. “I was like a lot of women then,” she says, “I had a child, but was separated. I had no trade, but was too literate for shit work. I was a dreadful waitress.

“The Village in those years between ’60 and ’64 was like a renaissance center for creativity, mostly due to creative I

outsiders, but the Village itself was on its last legs, suffering from its own success. In any community there’s a delicate ecology between natives and visitors, and as soon as the Village , began attracting lots of outsiders it lost its stability.

“After Eisenhower everything opened up and the music reflected it. We were blessed for a moment with many leaders in a country which badly needs leaders. The Kennedys, Martin Luther King, Malcolm X: Things opened up, and then we had to deal with all that death. Historically how do you do that? Well, I think we numbed ourselves out. There was still some glorious music in the late ’60s, but the country turned a corner. Music got louder. Musicians got more egotistical. People got deeper into mysticism. It’s been a psychologically painful time.

I think we’re finally coming out of it. I was listening to an Edgar Winter song recently. Shit, I can’t remember its name, but anyway, if you dropped the band track, it would be a fine folk song.”

Peter Paul Reubens. Peter Paul Almond Joy. Peter Paul and Mary. PP&M - “two rabbis and a hooker” (Ralph Gleason).

They performed together ' for ten years. With “Blowin’ In the Wind” they introduced Pylan to AM radio. They consistenty turned out hits from “If I Had My Way” to

“Leavin’ On A Jet Plane.” They dominated the single charts in a way no other folk group ever mastered. They were in the tradition of the Limelighters and the Kingston Trio, but with a difference — they maintained an aura of bohemianism, albeit respectable bohemianism, clipped goatees and all.

Flashback: ‘‘Peter and Paul were very much products of their environment, very much male chauvinists.” She speaks in a modified New York accent with that particular nasal twist that stretches out certain words. “The fact

that .1 didn t say anything on stage. The/fact that I never did two solos in a row. There was a point when I realized I was married to those guys, when I realized where the power lay.

“I guess the beginning of the end was when Paul got into religion. Edgar Gayce didn’t effect the group. But it progressively got worse. When it got to Jesus it became a real problem. He finally decided to split. He told me just before We went on stage for a concert in Japan. It wasn’t pleasant.

“Then to start all over again. It was a shock. I was a leader for the first time. I had to develop a last name. It was strange to be in a studio by myself. At my first concert there were 1,000 people as opposed to 35,000 the last time I had been on stage. I was terrified. Ten years of singing and I was really frightened.”

A chick. A Village chick. A Greenwich Village chick. A Greenwich Village chick who made it.

Four years and four albums later, she is commercially , the most successful of the trio, all of whom have gone solo. She has retained most of the audience Peter Paul and Mary created. She always was the better third.

Kit Rachlis

Unco Sammy Snafus Dope Test Centers

In last issue’s article on street drugs, we mistakenly said that PharmChem Laboratories (1848 Bay Rd., Palo Alto, Calif. 94303) would test street drugs free. This is untrue, although they do have the best public drug analysis service in the U.S., and their rates are reasonable: five dollars for a qualitative analysis of any drug, ten dollars for quantitative analysis, including percentage of purity. Also, their mailing list is an invaluable aid to the amateur pharmacologist: private individuals can get on it for ten dollars a year, agencies for twenty. Our apologies for the error^to PharmChem, who already have enough problems as it is. The government’s Drug Enfdrcemerit. Administration has issued stringent guidelines which could put a large crimp in the effectiveness of PharmChem and similar organizations. The DEA, claiming that the labs are merely “quality control labs” for drug dealers, ruled that they can no longer tell anonymous buyers what the exact contents of submitted samples are. In other words, if you want a quantitative analysis as described above, you gotta give your name and

address. The government has not yet demanded lists of names from PharmChem, but the lab reports that the new law has already resulted in a 35% drop in the number of samples received, which simply means that there’s almost certainly more garbage on the street than there was in the spring, and buyers should be doubly warned.

Everybody’s A Star

Thomas Taggert didn’t like being a movie star very much.

Tom isn’t always a, movie star, usually he' installs latrines for a living and he’s not ashamed to admit it. That is unless you are going to make his shit slinging public. Real public. Warner Brothers Pictures made that mistake, they featured old Tom in a 2 1/2 minute impromptu interview while he was installing the outhouses for the now famous Woodstock pop festival way back in ‘69. In fact, old Tom was so mortified that he decided to take his problem to the Su-preme Court. Although bigwigs in Washington declined the case, they did uphold a lower court decision that entitles him to a jury trial on charges that he was held up to public ridicule resulting from the starring segment where Tom speaks to the friendly guys with the big cameras as he installs the latrines..

As he worked, old Tom admitted that he liked to use a disinfectant spray to make a toilet “a little more pleasanter to go in and use.” He also added he was glad to work “for these kids. My son is here too, and I got one over in Vietnam, too.”

Now, he claims he was unwittingly interviewed — and is suing Warner Brothers because that undeliberate dive into the charmed circle of the cinema has ridiculed his job and embarrassed him as a person. Which just proves that everybody isn’t a star.

Jaan Uhelszki

Alice Cooper Exits Stage Left

When Alice went Hollywood, he left his boys to their own devices. First he tried tennis, and golf. Next it was a solo album featuring — not the old team, but Ronnie Lane. What looked1 like a trial separation is looking more like a rock and roll divorce. Alice was overheard-by one of our spies informing drummer Neal Smith that “he didn’t care if the band ever got back together.” You see, Alice wants to be in pictures. And he will, this fall. Alice, under the guidance of a “noted” director, will start

filming a murder mystery in London, next month. The movie is tentatively titled Steven (a la Ben — starring Michael Jackson and his miraculous rat). The animals of prey in this picture are human, since the plot revolves around cannibalism and a singer-songwriter, played by Alice:

So what are the mice doing while this Cooper cat is away? Michael Bruce flew into tbwn to hang the blame om Buxton, claiming that Glen is the cause of the break-up.

Neal -Smith, hardly noticed. Seems he was busy doing other things — like throwing a' $20,000 anniversary party

aboard a yacht in New York for his lovely wife of one year, Babette. Meanwhile, sister Cindy Smith married Dennis Dunaway in Greenwich, Ct., that same weekend. Alice? Well, he couldn’t be reached for comment. He was off to Toronto, fishing.

Jaan Uhelszki

TUBE WHIZ QUIZ no.2

QUESTION OF THE MONTH:: :7b Tell The Truth's own Kitty Carlisle to the U.S. Collegiate Women’s Bowling champ — “How heavy are men’s balls?”

R. Johnson