ANOTHER LOOK AT GIUFFRIA!

ANOTHER LOOK AT GIUFFRIA!

FEATURES

by

J. Kordosh

Defending Giuffria is tricky business. If ever a group begged for critical disdain, there are the guys. For instance, their

hair is long, long, long-much in the fashion of countless musicians/artists/outright bozos 'n' bores of the '70s. Musically, they straddle the now-attractive

fence between metal and AOR rock, threatening to create a Dylanesque body of work at about the same pace I'm taking on Shakespeare. As an almost inevitable bonus, they're

from Los Angeles, where-years ago-some musicians took a look around to see which way the wind blows. (In L.A. nowadays, it's not only the wind that blows.)

Finally, their keyboardist/songwriter/producer-Gregg Giuffria,

effort—is a former member of Angel. That’s band as in panned.

And so, with the advantage heavily favor of you, the reader, I begin to defend Giuffria. (Tangentially, I’ll mention that, an American—and I’m certain that the reader, share my pride in the magnificence of being an American—I’m pretty darned proud of an American hitting #26 on their debut album. bless us all.)

Where was I? Oh yeah, the defense. Well, let’s take it point by point. Don’t the immutably obvious fact that I ultimately win this staged argument dissuade you from reading this article its entirety, by the way... for I will win logic alone. (Readers of a mathematical bent are welcome to outline [and the clearheaded reasoning thereby becoming the despair of

Photos by Ross Marino

foes and, in general, transcendentally appealing to the opposite sex.)

Their hair: “Giuffria can scarcely be purveyors of cool, looking—as they dolike the leftovers you’d find in your refrigerator had you cooked ninnies last night,” I hear many murmur. “Their look is dated and has nothing in common with the more innovative styles of bands like the Smiths, R.E.M. or Tears For Fears, to name just three,” I hear many add.

I May I respond?

I’m so sure.

Look at Sade, who is momentarily cool. How utterly today to prepare one’s hair with a common steam iron. Look at Bronski Beat, those yo-yos incarnate...how daring of them to appear to actually be their unfortunate selves. Look at Howard Jones.

Uh, on second thought, don’t look at Howard Jones. He looks silly.

“My hair and the way I look makes me happy,” Gregg Giuffria told me. I m not ^ge am) out became mere number of morons I would certainly kill were I Superman with a less equitable viewpoint than that Kryptonian hero’s.

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TURN PAGE 52

CONTINUED FROM PAGE 33

However, L.A. is not de facto bad, as those of you who remember it as the city where McGuinn and McGuire couldn’t get no higher will concede. That it’s become the ultimate fjord for the lemmings of rock is not Giuffria’s fault.

Besides, David Eisley originally hails from Detroit, the birthplace of many erudite people who would turn their innumerable skills to defending a band just like Giuffria, were they given the chance. I know this to be a fact. Having met Eisley’s maternal grandmother, Trudy Matheson, I am now convinced that “art in the blood” is no crank theory. Sipping a Jack Daniels backstage, although her true preference is a Manhattan, the gracious lady told me that David’s father, Tony, played the lead in Hawaiian Eye. Furthermore, his sister is an assistant producer out there in L.A. somewhere and his brother-in-law, Gary Baxley, is one of the leading stuntmen in the business. It becomes obvious that the man was born for show business, much like his comrades, who—unfortunately—don’t come from Detroit.

Let’s conclude that L.A. is bad, then, at the same time remembering that the city is 203 years older than Giuffria.

Gregg Giuffria...Man Or Mold?: Make fun, if you will, of Angel, Giuffria’s rock act before Giuffria. Spun off the Kissdollars in the coffers of Casablanca Records, Angel made no contribution to music greater than their decision to cease existing.

Look closer at Giuffria—the man—though. “There were three real hard years I went through of some failures and projects I was putting together that just didn’t work,” he told me. But did he quit, a beaten man?

No.

Instead, he put together a band of his own— a band that would make a successful debut album. A band that would tour with the reformed Deep Purple—whose jealous guitar player would place impossible restrictions on them— then blithely skip to the Foreigner tour.

In short, a band among bands.

So, it’s clear that Giuffria are musicians of considerable worth—a band we can wish a long and fruitful career. I think we all can agree their next album will surely be better than Giuffria. And that we won’t be so quick to judge musicians until we read the true facts about them in CREEM.

I’d like to go on a bit more about this, but I’m late for my Howard Jones interview.