Everywhere
Music in a small, North Florida town.
Gimme Gimme Good Lovin’
((( Jam at the Rat )))
Marty Jourard
Road Turkey (Steve Soar, Marty Jourard, Stan Lynch) at the Rathskeller (c.1972)
In 1969, two years out of Gainesville high school, Marty Jourard and his trio Road Turkey were among the most popular local bands. He played alongside Bo Diddley, Tom Petty (Mudcrutch), Don Felder, and Stephen Stills. He, like Petty moved to Los Angeles, but made a more dramatic musical turn. His band the Motels sounded more like The Cars, Elvis Costello, and Blondie, than The Allman Brothers, the Eagles, or Elvin Bishop.
The summer of 1972 I was playing in a Rock N Roll power trio called Road Turkey … It was me on bass and vocals; Stan Lynch, a 15-year-old powerhouse drummer; and Steve Soar, an unusually fine guitarist. We played early Rock ‘n’ Roll hits like “Ready Teddy” and “Tutti Frutti,” and I’d sing Grand Funk, The Doors, and Allman Brothers (challenging as a three-piece)tunes.
We were friends with the band Mudcrutch, led by a very long-haired Tom Petty, and an already-great Mike Campbell, and so many other local hard rockers.
We mostly played Gainesville clubs (really just beer bars with a tiny stage at one end) such as Mad Monk’s Inn, The Keg, The Rathskeller, and Dub’s Steer Room.
But first, Trader Tom’s. Tom Henderson was unique. He was basically a real down home Southern fellow, but he understood the psychology of running a roadside club in the deep South with topless dancers, live music (Road Turkey) on Wednesday, Friday, and Saturday nights. The converted one room store offered topless table dancing for $1 a dance (“Keep the songs short” we were told by dancers and Tom alike), $3 pitchers of tepid, watered down Old Milwaukee beer.
Tom insisted that at the moment he opened the doors, promptly at 9pm, the lights were flashing, the band was ready, and “Fire and Water” by Wilson Pickett was playing on the jukebox. Pickup trucks filled the parking lot, and business was brisk on Friday and Saturday night. His wife Lill, a sweet, patient, and sharp woman, had a quarter with an X painted on both sides in red fingernail polish to start the night, marked for later retrieval from the jukebox operator …
EARLY UNION BULLETIN: Tom asked us once to find out which of our songs were BMI published. BMI was asking for licensing of music and Tom didn’t want to pay. Playing only non-BMI published songs would have decimated our 42 songs to just four or five. We told Tom we got rid of all of them (we didn’t). He was satisfied, as was BMI; we never heard anything about it again.
Dance contest was Wednesday. the dancers would each get one song, and they would ask us to play their favorites. The band would be playing, the crowd lusting in response to every hip twitch and pelvic thrust, as each dance contestant would be thinking of the prize money. All this and getting paid too! Living at home, no bills, family car, and dad’s Shell credit card. Gas was 33.9/gallon back then anyway, and a Krystal Burger (Take Home a Sack) was 12 cents.
You can sense the excitement as Steve and I demonstrate early synchronized choreography and Stan Lynch, temporarily stunned, stops playing drums and looks on in awe.
Note the silver tape I stuck all over my Telecaster bass. We were probably playing the MC5’s “Tonight,” a crowd fave.
This early fantasy version of what rock and roll life was all about hooked me on the allure and so called glamour of the biz. As far as I could see there was no downside. Playing music, going to school, “meeting” girls, driving to the beach, late parties at various apartment complexes. The winner of the dance contest earned $50 or $100 and the competition was fierce between a couple of them. That extra money was worth a serious try at getting everyone in the room hot. This one girl had a heart patch on the front of her panties, causing it to be the center of attention. When she danced, every eye of every southern male in the place was glued to, her, uh, main attraction. I got to know three of these topless dancers, and even thought I was going steady with one for a few weeks. Ah, Anita B. where are you now? Music, romance, sex, gainful employment; all the elements of a blockbuster movie script are in here!
Back then, we played three nights a week at Trader’s. At $50 a night, that was a cool $150 a week. Adding to the fun was being a part of a crowd of long-haired, anti-Vietnam, social misfits taking a crack, so to speak, at some hot after-hours topless dancer action.
Music had hooked herself another victim.
These were exciting times for the still-innocent author. These women looked especially good in bar lighting. Later, chance encounters, in the cold light of day often proved heartbreaking.
—30—
Tom Petty (HOMECOMING ’81)
GAINESVILLE’S FAVORITE SON
FATHER KNOWS BEST (MEET EARL, TOM’S DAD)
MUDCRUTCH (1971) THE INTERVIEW
A LITTLE GIRL’S BLUES” (TOM’S LONG DISTANCE LOVER)
YOU GOT LUCKY (TWO TICKETS TO TOM PETTY PARADISE)
Southbound
Songs of the North Florida South
ALLMAN BROTHERS (FLORIDA NATIVES)
@ THE BANDSHELL
SEA LEVEL (CHUCK LEAVEL)
THE DIXIE DREGS (SOUTHERN FUSION)
EAGLES
w/ JIMMY BUFFETT
FRANK ZAPPA (HALLOWEEN 1979)
PAT BENATAR (@ THE FLORIDA GYM)
TALKING HEADS (POST PUNK AT THE BANDSHELL)
road trips
BRUCE SPRINGSTEEN (TICKET QUEST)
THE POLICE (ROADTRIP TO TOMMORROW)
DIRE STRAITS (VINNY’S NIGHT IN JACKSONVILLE)
ROLLING STONES (TANGERINE BOWL)
Songs of the North Florida South
The Allman Brothers, Duane and Gregg, went to high school in Daytona Beach, moved to Macon, Georgia, and recorded the first album of their long and legendary career in 1969. The Allman Brothers Band’s rise to recognition was fast, and they’ve been credited, largely, as instrumental in creating the “new” sound that became known as Southern Rock. Much of what the Allmans created was inspired by Duane, who was arguably the finest “slide” guitarist the Blues had seen after the 1950s
MUSCLE SHOALS: Duane Allman with: Aretha Franklin, Otis Rush, Wilson Pickett, King Curtis, Boz Skaggs, Herbie Mann, ERIC CLAPTON (LAYLA) … Duane painted with all the colors, whatever the genre required, but there was never a doubt that his personal favorite was Blue.
Being a local band, the Allmans were frequent visitors to Gainesville, before Duane was killed in 1972, when an 18-wheel peach truck ran over him on his Harley Davidson motorcycle at home in Macon. [EAT A PEACH] And then the death of bassist Barry Oakley [WHIPPING POST] put in doubt the future of the band.
The Allmans did continue, famously. They released [EAT A PEACH] a double-album that featured “Mountain Jam” from the Fillmore East recordings, and songs they had been working on before Duane’s accident.
Gregg invited some of Macon’s finest to jam, record, and write new music for a. the Allman’s first post-Duane album, and who might fill Duane’s position in the band.
LES DUDEK
CHUCK LEAVELL
After those sessions, Chuck Leavell, the pianist, was chosen, leaving Dickey Betts as the one Allman guitarist. Leavell immediately made his presence known, writing much of the band’s 1973 album Brothers and Sisters, and moving the Allman sound, not away from the Blues, but noticeably toward Honky Tonk and Jazz.
MOVIES (ROCKY HORROR PICTURE SHOW)
The Movie With No End
Music Everywhere
The Rock and Roll Roots of a Southern Town.
By Marty Jourard
Gainesvillian
When the Beatles launched into fame in 1963, they inspired a generation to pick up an instrument and start a band. Rock and roll took the world by storm, but one small town in particular seemed to pump out prominent musicians and popular bands at factory pace.
When it comes to their Rock and Roll roots, many American college towns have their own story to tell, but the story of Gainesville, Florida, is its own. Dozens of resident musicians launched into national prominence, eight inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, and a steady stream of major acts rolled through on a regular basis. From Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers to Stephen Stills and the Eagles’ Don Felder and Bernie Leadon, Gainesville cultivated some of the most celebrated musicians and songwriters of the time.
Marty Jourard, a member of the chart-topping band the Motels, delves into the individual stories of the musicians, businesses, and promoters that helped musicians create a the vibrant, artistic atmosphere during the mid-sixties and seventies. The laid-back southern town was also host to a clash of cultures. It was home to intellectuals and rednecks, liberals and conservatives, racists and civil rights activists, farmers, businessmen, students, and hippies. Although sometimes violent and chaotic, these diverse forces brought wild rock and roll energy to the music scene and nourished it with an abundance of musical fare that included folk, gospel, soul, country, blues, and Top Forty hits. Gainesville musicians developed a sound all their own and a music scene that, decades later, is still launching musicians to the top of the charts.
Music Everywhere brings to light a key chapter in the history of American Rock and Roll, a time when music was a way of life and bands popped up by the dozen, some falling by the wayside but others leaving an indelible mark. Here is the story of the people, the town, and a culture that nurtured a wellspring of talent.
Gimmi Gimmi Good Lovin‘
Crazy Elephant
1969 — A Road Turkey favorite at the Rathskeller.
((( >> )))
alligator (may 9, 1971)
Later, I bought a Fender Telecaster bass, a big, chunky, natural wood finish log of a bass, with a banana (bowed) neck, and Rotosound Roundwound strings. After a few sets of Hendrix, The Rascals, Creedence Clearwater, The Beatles, Steppenwolf, and even bubble gum favorites like “Gimme Gimme Good Lovin,” the massive instrument became heavy on the shoulder.
The summer of 1972 found me in a three-piece power trio called Road Turkey. Me (still) on bass and vocals, Stan Lynch, a 15-year-old powerhouse drummer (even back then Lynch had major chops), and Steve Soar, an unusually fine guitarist. Together we played early rock ‘n’ roll hits like “Ready Teddy” and “Tutti Frutti,” and I would sing Grand Funk songs. The Doors, Allman Brothers (challenging as a three piece), and many more.
We became friends with the band Mudcrutch, featuring a very long-haired Tom Petty and an already-great Mike Campbell and various other rockers. We played local clubs (really just beer bars with a tiny stage at one end) such as Mad Monk’s Inn, The Keg, The Rathskeller, and Dub’s Steer Room.
But first, Trader Tom’s. Tom Henderson was unique. He was basically a real Southern down home fellow, but he understood the psychology of running a roadside club in the deep South with topless dancers, live music (Road Turkey) on Wednesday, Friday and Saturday nights. The converted one room store offered topless table dancing for $1 a dance (“Keep the songs short” we were told by dancers and Tom alike), $3 pitchers of tepid, watered down Old Milwaukee beer. Tom insisted that at the moment he opened the doors, promptly at 9pm, the lights were flashing, the band was ready, and “Fire and Water” by Wilson Pickett was playing on the jukebox. Pickup trucks filled the parking lot, and business was brisk on Friday and Saturday night. His wife Lill, a sweet, patient and sharp woman, had a quarter with an X painted on both sides in red fingernail polish to start the night, marked for later retrieval from the jukebox operator.
Dance contest was Wednesday. The dancers would each get one song, and they would ask us to play their favorites. The band would be playing, the crowd lusting in response to every hip twitch and pelvic thrust, as each dance contestant would be thinking of the prize money. All this and getting paid too! Living at home, no bills, family car, and dad’s Shell credit card. Gas was 33.9/gallon back then anyway, and a Krystal Burger (Take Home a Sack) was 12 cents.