And We’ll Have Fun, Fun, Fun, ’Til Daddy Takes The Stratocaster Away!!!

Faster than an overdub, able to leap tall decibels in a single twang, stronger than money — it's a band, it's a group, it's...it's BLAZE. Blaze is a new rock group, combining the talents of a group of 15 to 17-year-olds in the Birmingham/Bloomfield area. Big deal, right? But Blaze is a big deal, almost a corporate big deal.

If you wish to inquire about Blaze for your next rock party, sock hop or bar mitzvah, you will be casually led through Blaze's 14-page, offset-printed promotional package by thelrtsmoothtalking 15-year-old manager, Nelson Roberts. Considering that the Paul McCartney and Wings promo pack is only seven pages long, Blaze is not to be easily dismissed. Of interest to the more discerning party-giver is Blaze's list of informal equipment. A black Fender Telecaster Deluxe with two custom pick-ups, or if you prefer lighter shades, a white Fender Jaguar with mute. Maintaining a feline profile, there is an Elka Panther Duo. For your future listening enjoyment we have: i, bne Farfisa Mini-Compact, an El Carnival piano, a custom-finished Fender Precision Bass, a combination Slingerland-Ludwig Drum kit (ethnically i sound) featuring two bass, two floor toms, a snare, five upper toms, two molars, three incisors, Five, count em' five Kashian/Zyldjian cymbals, finally a Ludwig Hi-Hat (with cymbals) and two | cowbells and a four-foot gong. Items not mentioned are: tambourines, maracas, bongos, kalimba, claves, wood block, oudo and various whistles. These are Simply the instruments.

The young members of Blaze are individually and corporately: Nelson Roberts, manager; Tony Audas, vocals and percussion; Rob Shinno, lead guitar, keyboards and vocals; John Saunders, drums, percussion and vocals; Scott McCandles, keyboards, synthesizer and vocals; Norm Jones, bass guitar and vocals; Tom Straith, assistant manager; Bob Tatler, electronics. The combined ages of all eight members is 111 years. Blaze's frenzyds driven by a Traynor YVM 4 Vocal P. A. (100 watts), a father who is a Chrysler defense engineer, a Fender Twin (100 watts), a father who is vice president of Rockwell Automotive, a Kustom II bass amp (75 watts), a father who is advertising director for SEMTA, a Vox Churchill Keyboard Amp (100 watts), a doctor, an accountant, two Traynor YSC-1 vocal columns, four 12" Traynor drivers in each; a marketing director for Chatham Supermarkets, a Fender Dual Showman, a Kustom bottom, Traynor TB-1 bass bottom, the owner of Nevco, fourteen additional times from Electro-Harmonix, Fisher and Altec, and other notables. What makes Blaze run? Why aren't these kids out on the streets slinging their Lam\ borghettis around trees or smashing up ; | motorcycles? *

Blaze is blessed [?] with parents who r are loving and rich. Parents who are behind the group all the iway. As comanager Nelson Roberts* father says, "It's what the kids want and that's what's most important." Right. If the kids wanted sports cars, motorcycles, or expensive ski equipment they could have those things. But these gyys want amps, guitars, synthesizers, etc. for / their band, and that's what they've got. The best, and they get it by the ton.

Blaze wants success bad...bad enough to put up with the tedium of formal musical training, and • their music teachers, like all the other things about Blaze, are the best that money can buy. The keyboard player studies with Kathy Landis, whose credits include command performances for the President and Henry Kissinger. The bass player takes lessons from Steve Fave, whose father Joe wrote a highly regarded series of course books for guitar and electric, bass.

As the promo kit states, "BLAZE is not just another local band..." That ain't no jive. "BLAZE is a total audiovisual experience', from vibrant [color] organ and eerie fog [machine] to the full blown fury of an electronic music storm, complete with fire and lightning." Complete with fire and lightning, indeed! This band has enough flash pots, strobes, light trees and dry-ice fog to make Gene Simmons' bat wings flap with envy.

The slick promo pack blitz continues, "Few jobs are too big or too small forBLAZEto handle." Pretty confident for a high school band, you say? Certainly not. They probably have more equipment than Pink Floyd, f'rchrissakes. PA, monitors, amps, speakers, synthesizers, pianos, organs, guitars... And that's just the beginning! BLAZE has every effects pedal ever made, every African/Latin percussion instrument imaginable, and they've even got their own Ford van to haul all the stuff around.

Just like CKLW, Blaze plays all the hits all the time. Interweaving original numbers with tunes by Kiss, Alice Cooper, Bowie, Aerosmith, Black Sabbath, Bad Company, the Stones, Zeppelin, the Who., .you name it, they cop it.

When the group set up their four tons of equipment on their front lawn (the only place it would fit), five' shy, cleanlooking teenagers turned into nasty, screaming imitations of a combination Black Sabbath/Stones/Who/Paul Stanley—stompingrock monster. Tony Audas, 17, the lead singer, roared out "Strutter" and leapt into the air landing hard on his back in true Iggy Pop fashion. Bass player Norm Jones, 16, who left another group to play with Blaze because his old group wasn't ambitious enough, marches pseudogestapo-style, grimacing and spinning to beat Gyser Butler at his own game. Rob Shinno, 17, lead guitarist, twangs out riffs1 that would make Ace Frehley's white pancake face blush red. The keyboard man, Scott McGandliss, 15, looms over the organs and synthesizers, with more enthusiasm than Emerson, and drummer John Saunders, 15, -makes Keith Moon look like a tired old man.

Just like BTO s "Rock Is My Life," Blaze wants rock to be their life, too. They wanna play rock better, louder, with more flash and more show. They certainly have the means to do so.

With all the money and organization behind them, how can Blaze fail? The accountant/father can formulate a proper working cash flow, give wise investment counseling, devise tax loss depreciation on their equipment, balance their books to show a profit. The marketing director/father can apply .his skill at selling 80,000 cans of tuna fish to selling 80,000 watts of rock music power.

You may be jealous of Blaze's advantages, but can you fault the guys themselves for faking advantage of the position they were born into? (And we should mention that they're paying their folks back). If the White Panthers were still around they might suggest liberating all that equipment and distributing it to poor kids who want to be rock stars...like the Up maybe?

But don't worry kids, the Panthers haven't liberated anything in a while, and you're well on your way. During their repent impromptu Upper-MiddleClass front lawn Woodstock, neighborhood kids flocked to the band faster than flies flock to you-know-what. All Blaze really needs now is a concert arena to play in and that's no problem; IT CAN BE BOUGHT IF NECESSARY!

Cocker Makes Ca Ca...

Going to see Joe Cocker, at best, is like going to pay a visit to an old friend you know is an alcoholic...You don't really expect much, but you nevertheless want to enjoy your visit. Sunday night, April 11th was no exception.

Cobo Hall was all set up; ready were the lights, equipment and a competent enough sound system. As the audience filled their seats, if was apparent that the hall would be two-thirds empty; not unusual, considering that Detrqit rock 'n' roll maniacs have seen and heard Joe's haphazard antics and alcoholrotted voice. Not since Woodstock, including the early days at the Grande, has the really bizarre voice of Joe Cocker been heard. What is left is the last-ditch attempt of Joe's management team to preserve financially whatever may be gained from displaying this man.

KGB opened the show: no comment. The second act was none other than Brownsville Station, Detroit (Ann Arbor) boys made good, then bad... well — you know. Their show was exactly the same as always — lots of energy and friendly banter with the small crowd, reminding us eight times too often that we were "in Detroit," a fact that somehow was supposed to make us jump onto our padded Cobo seats, and rant and rave while Brownsville played.

Well anyway, you get the picture. Now enter the "Joe Cocker Show." The five piece band, mostly black, opened with a strong instrumental; obviously a group selected to strengthen Cocker's show. Happily, the group also included three beautiful black voices.

Joe himself looked as-if he'd spent •the day in bed — with his clothes on. Looking every bit as spiffy as any member of his road crew, he began singing, weaving around, and unceremoniously throwing up into a convenient bucket behind the mammoth set of speakers. It was hard to judge the music as a separate entity, for it was all too obvious that we were in the wrong place at the wrong time. It cannot possibly be a time for a Joe Cocker comeback. Credit and respect must always be extended to any old star, and empathy comes easily — especially when the tickets are free! In Chicago, the Joe Cocker show played at the Aragon Ballroom, obviously much better suited for a performance of this type. Perhaps the real diehard Cocker fans would-have enjoyed themselves, and made the show less of a shame had it been held in one of the smaller available arenas; in Detroit, Joe Cocker at Cobo Hall made you want to (pardon me)...throw up!

Larry Benjamin