THE BEAT GOES ON

THE BEAT GOES ON

SVT At The Mabuhay Gardens

SAN FRANCISCO—It's another Saturday night at the Mabuhay Gardens for SVT. Outside on Broadway things are fairly sedate—just the usual live sex acts, bellydance clubs, and tourists lining up for the drag show as barkers and street evangelists shriek into the neon night.

But inside the former Filipino supper club it's much more intense. On a low stage, SVT— drummer Paul Zahl, guitarist Brian Marnell and bassist Jack Casady—are invoking wild demons of music that dance in flames about them. In the audience before them—madness. The crowd is jumping, bumping, struggling with itself —teetering on a fine dangerous line between rollicking fun and real ^trouble. But the boiling frenzy inches from their faces only intensifies the band's performance. Hanging over their heads is a wave of sound which, jrather than crashing down upon them,'remains somehow under control.

\ Marnell is staggering, almost stumbling across the stage; pushed and kicked by the ferocity of his own music—singing with damp strands of hair hanging low over eyes now heavily lidded," now opened wide in passion.

Behind him, Zahl is executing deft, imaginative drum patterns, his head bobbing between swaying cymbols, his sticks flying all over the drumheads as his voice joins Marnell's with zestful sureness.

And Casady, his face teasingly expressive behind his shades, draws his visceral bass lines from the very heart and soul of rock.

The crowd is crazed for good reason. Here and now, this is rock 'n' roll. This is what it's always been at its finest; immediate, merciless and pure—pushed to the far limits of emotional release^.

Casady himself describes the patrons as 'a good, aggressive audience.

'I have seen some stuff...I've sworn I'm going to get my glasses half power so all I can see is the neck of my bass.'

'We can't play our slow songs at the Mab,' Marnell says. 'We have some ballads, but if we played them there they'd probably kill us.'

This crowd may be SVT's most intense, but the band's renown as performers is by no means limited to their home in San Francisco. During two East Coast tours SVT was eagerly received at such venues as Hurrah and the Danceteria in New York City, London's The Marquee and Nashville, and clubs in Long Island, Philadelphia, Washington D.C. and other cities. A third major tour began in October. They've built a growing fame almost solely on their own efforts, though wordof-mouth tales of their performances and upon the vitality of their two singles and a sevensong EP.

SVT formed somewhat more than two years ago when Casady and keyboardist Nick Buck (the two had worked together in Hot Tuna) joined with Marnell and drummer Bill Gibson, who both had strong experience is Bay Area bands. Their first single release, an independently-produced live version of 'Want To See You Cry' arjd 'New Year' (pressed on 'blood-red vinyl') sold out its 5000 copies and is now a collector's item. The next single (two Marnell songs, 'Heart of Stone' and 'The Last Word,' on San Francisco's 415 records) got airplay on some 150 radio stations—an impressive figure for a small label recording—and continues to sell.

After the recording of 'Heart of Stone,' Gibson departed about a year ago and was replaced by Zahl, whose drumming is heard on the 415 Records EP 'SVT, Extended Play.' The record features original compositions and lead vocals by Marnell and Buck, whose singing and writing compliment each other well. Marnell's 'Price of Sex' is a rocker both demanding and pleading in tone; 'Modern. Living,' written by Buck, is a wry, ironic dissection of urban existence. Both it and Buck's 'I Can See' are distinguished by crisp delivery, intelligent vocal phrasing, finely honed perspective and consistently inventive keyboard work. Other highlights of the EP include Marnell's dreamy summer vision 'Down At The Beach,' a breathless cover of 'Red Blue Jeans,' and a version of Johnny Cash's 'I Walk, The Line' that would shake the cobwebs from the rafters of The Grand Ole Opry.

These songs have been sharpened in who-knows-howmany live performances; innovative gigs in which the band members continually challenge themselves to create new excitement^.

'The group is very willing to experiment, to explore, to push their boundaries,' says 'Dirk' Dirksen, producer of The Mab's shows. 'That's probably what gets across to the audience, the enthusiasm.' t

'We love to play,' Marnell adds later. 'That's why we're in business. When we don't play we get very, very bored. '

To many who've seen them, it's nothing short of amazing that SVT has not, yet been signed by a major record label. Not surprisingly, the band would like a fat Contract and all that goes with it—a top producer and wellbudgeted promotion and distribution of their work. But they aren't sitting on their thumbs waiting for the phone to ring. They're playing gigs, developing new material and performI ing With a searing commitment and integrity.

THESE PEOPLE CAN SEE YOU 11

For years championed as the watchdog of the avant-garde, CREEM has once more done It again I Years of Intensive undercover work has disclosed the location of the elusive cult the Moes, a bizarre group from L.A. who actually know what's going on at all times I Head Moe Louie Sleagle—seen here wearing an Allman Brothers t-shirt—has given his many followers the elusive gift of actual omniscience and, as a direct result, Sleagle and his Moes are watching you right nowf That's right, buddy, even you I "We especially en|oy watching people in showers," comments Sleagle, "but CREEM readers look even funnier I" No comment, Louie, but change your shirt, OK?

, 'We've already proved that playing little places doesn't mean you don't make money,' Zahl says. And the big places may not be too much farther down the road.

'They've acquired all th^!, tools necessary,' says the Mabuhay's Dirksen. 'They've got the knowledge behind them; They're a couple of years older, on the average, than the emerging garage bands, so they have that extra experience.

'It's just a matter of time. '

Frank Fox

Guitarist ! Leaves Romantics! Or Maybe Not!

DETROIT—In perhaps one of the most, unusually-timed personnel changes in recent rock history, guitarist Mike Skill has evidently left the Romantics on the heels of tKe release of their second album, National Breakout.

While the move is certain to generate emotions ranging from boredom to ennui among critical listeners, it has also generated some confusion in the group itself. Fbr example, ex-fellow guitarist Wally Palmar would not admit that Skill had actually left the group. 'He's taking some time off,' Palmar said. 'It's kind of a sticky situation as of now, but it's by mutual agreement.' (Mutual agreement seemed to be the catch phrase in discussing the Skill story with anyone in the Romantics' organization.) In a burst of lucidity, Palmar added that 'it's a weird situation.'

Meanwhile, Arnie Tencer, 'one of' the Romantics' managers, said that 'it's a mutual thing. He's leaving to pursue a solo career. Mike has a lot of real good ideas that weren't surfacing as much as he liked.' Tencer said that he and fellow 'manager' Joel Zuckerman were 'making calls to get a solo album together' (wait a minute, aren't these things usually done in a studio?), and that we can antici; ibate Jimmy Carter's re-election in 1984 and the start of another glacial advance within the next few minutes.

Since the Romantics must, by law, tour heavily to support their new LP, readers will be relieved to know that they've added guitarist Coz Canler to replace Skill and that the tour will proceed on schedule. By incredible co-incidence, Canler is the former chauffeur of Romantics' producer Pete Solley. According to Tencer, his further qualifications include 'he knew all the songs before he joined the ' band' (what, all ten?!) and that he 'plays in the same style as Mike.' It kind of makes you wonder if Mike also knew all the songs and played in the same style as himself.

A happy ending is surely anticipated, though, as Tencer said that 'everyone's still the -best of friends,' refusing, in the ^same breath, to divulge Skill's f phone number or whereabouts, s Unfortunately for Skill, All Things tfust Pass has already been used as an album title; however, Baby, You Can Drive My Car is still up fot grabs. Good luck, Mike.

As for the remaining 'Mantics, things are also looking up. Bass guitarist Rich Cole told a CREEM staffer recently that 'We're not wearing those David Johansen clown suits anymore!' This will undoubtedly relieve neo-Romantic Canler almost as much as the sighted population in general. Now, as regards other clown suits...

J. Kordosh

BATTLE OF THE BEAUTIES CONTINUES 11

"What's going on around horolfl" yolpod tho thoroughly bofuddlod Joan Jott. "How daro Nina Hagan and Graca Jones consider themselves the only contenders for the title as the world's rfoti beautiful woman I They're gonna regret omitting Joanie, and there's gonna be hell to pay I*' Grace, December's CREEM DREEM, had this to say about Joan Jett: "You can tell that plucked pigeon nobody's gonna take away my title as the world's most beautiful woman I And I doit't give a hoot if she's taking boxing lessons. I'll take on Joan, that crazy broad Nina and that skinny English wimp Souxie Sioux any day they choose I Got Me I ? I" Will this turn into a major, war? We haven't heard from Siouxie, January's CREEM DREEM, but you can be sure of this—there's gonna be a showdown I

All's Fair In Love & Hair

LONDON—If there are any punks left anywhere, it's now been declared officially OK for them to do anything they want to their hair, whether it's dying it the color of safety glass, hitting it with a hafnmer or even giving it the oldShinola.

'The punks are entitled to have fun with their hair,' advises David Colclough, president of the English National Hairdressers Federation. For fear that young people will stop patronizing their salons, the Fed has ordered members to 'stop criticizing'' teenagers who cOme in with radioactive Mohawks and tinfoil bangs.

'Hands off the young!' Colclough declared, thereby ruining most of the fun of being a hairdresser. 'They are a challenge to the profession and we should meet it.'

If he thinks the punks are a challenge, wait'll he sees Ronny Reagan.

Rick Johnson

5 Years Ago

Many Moons Ago

The Who's sole surviving juvenile delinquent member, Keith Moon—appearing in this column for a record 94 consecutive months (or something like that) —had his recertt brief stay in a Scottish jail (for, according to Earth News, 'mangling an airlines' computer') eased greatly when authorities allowed his butler Doobles to fetch him from his home his favorite velvet smoking jacket, some Dom Perignon champagne, lobster thermidor, and Havana cigars. Hardly rehabilitated, Mr. Moon recently joined L.A.'s new transvestite rockers the. Cycle Sluts on stage for a performance in which he reportedly stripped off his clothes and then refused to exit stage left until one of the meaty bouncers prevailed upon him.