Act II Episode #9 - Dylan and the Hawks
Few events in the half-century history
of rock & roll are considered more significant than when Bob
Dylan plugged in his guitar, went electric and began playing with the
Hawks.
How Dylan came to meet the Hawks has
been a matter of much scrutiny and uncertainty, and there has been a
lot of myth making around the legends as they grew over the years.
The most popular accounts have Dylan
discovering the Hawks while on vacation in Atlantic City, or some
variation of that, but after much diligent research this is the most
likely account of what really happened.
By the end of June '65, Dylan's song
“Mr. Tambourine Man,” as recorded by the Byrds, was Number One on
the pop charts and one of the songs that the hippies at Shriver's
Pavilion would play on their guitars and sing, with someone playing a
bongo drum and inevitably a tambourine would chime in.
The Byrds were a new California band
who took the song, as it was written by Bob Dylan, and gave it a
rocky twist, and make the song the first and the only song Dylan
would write to make it Number One on the popular music charts.
Dylan wrote the song the previous
winter of 1964 during a cross country road trip he made with some
buddies. He was already the epitome of all things folk, mentored by Woody Gunthrie, leader of political protests, playing with Joan Baez
at the Lincoln Memorial when Martin Luther King, Jr. gave his “I
Have A Dream” speech, the darling of the folk crowd and the
“conscience of his generation.”
But Dylan had recently been booed by a
liberal white audience when he accepted the Tom Paine Award and gave
a drunken, rambling speech in which he showed sympathy for President
Kennedy's assassin. With a new album in the can, a small college tour
to back it, his relationship with girlfriend on the rocks, it was
time to get out of Dodge.- “Get while the getten's good,” as
someone in his crowd said, making Dylan stop to think if there's a
song in that cleche.
On the cross country, coast to coast
road trip from New York City to San Fran, they stopped at every
record shop on the way – in Newark, Philadelphia, Wilmington and
Washington D.C,. to buy every copy of his new record they could get
their hands on, one of which was given to Carl Sanberg, who they
dropped in to visit unexpectedly, and found the old man at home on
his farm and a bit perplexed by this young man knocking on his door
and handing him a record. Sandberg just didn't get it, but was polite
about not acknowledging it.
The itinerary of this road trip
included stopping to sing for some Freedom Riders, who were northern
white liberal college kids trying to convince black people in the
South to register and vote, some of whom were being killed by the
local red necks.
Then it was on to New Orleans, where
they visited some clubs in the French Quarter and found a young
hippie singing Dylan's songs. Then they stopped at Dealey Plasa in
Dallas where President Kennedy was killed before moving on to Vegas
and San Francisco.
Well it was sometime during that road
trip that Dylan wrote “Mr. Tambourine Man,” a song he said was
about Bruce Langhorne, a folk music session percussionist who had a
large Turkish drum that was lined with bells that sounded like a
tambourine, an instrument Langhorne said he bought in a Village pawn
shop.
Dylan recorded the song in a Hollywood
studio while he was in California, and a demo copy of the first
recording of the song was shared with the Byrd's manager, who
convinced them to record it as one of the first of the songs they
would do in what was to become known as new genera of music they
called soft-rock, and they did it complete with drums, guitars and
all kinds of new electronic gimics they were coming up with. The “Mr.
Tambourine Man” recording session actually included only two
members of the Byrds, formerly The Jet Setters, including David
Crosby, and studio session men who would become known as The Wrecking
Crew.
The Byrd's version of “Mr. Tambourine
Man” was released first, and hit the pop charts like a bullet, and
it quickly got Dylan's attention, in fact it blew him away, not only
because of the sound, but the fact that a lot of people liked it –
it helped bring folk music into the popular mainstream, and made
everybody a lot of money.
Back in New York City, Dylan retreated
to his Village apartment and was inspired to write not just another
song, but another song that would change music as we know it, society
as it was and the world in ways that are not yet done.
When Dylan finished writing the last
lyrics and notes to “Like A Rolling Stone” he knew he had a hot
hit on his hands, and made a quick mono tape recording of it, and
then took the tape and his guitar Uptown to the office of his manager
Albert Grossman. Grossman was busy with another client, John Hammond,
Jr., but Dylan and Hammond were friends too. Hammond's father, John
Hammond, Sr., had signed Dylan to Columbia Records, as he had
previously signed Billie Holiday and would someday sign the kid from
Asbury Park who had yet to come down the Pike and wasn't yet the
boss.
Dylan excitedly told Grossman and
Hammond that he wrote a new song, and he wanted them to hear it.
Dylan was going to play the tape he had just made but instead he
spread the half typed and some hand scrawled words out on paper on
the coffee table in front of him, picked up the guitar and began to
strum and sing, “Once upon a time, you dressed so fine,threw the bums a dime.....”
Grossman and Hammond had the same
reaction to the song as Dylan himself, they knew it was a hit, but
they also knew the ugly inner workings and blood, sausage and guts of
the entertainment industry and were aware that even the best songs
can fall by the wayside if not done logistically correct, and there
was no particular way to do it, they just had to get all the ducks in
order to make that song a hit.
Then Dylan mentioned the Byrd's version
of “Mr. Tambourine Man,” and how neat it sounded with the drums,
guitars, keys and all that reverb shit, and that's how “Like A
Rolling Stone”had to be produced, not as an acoustic folk song.
And Grossman agreed, and he seldom
agreed with anybody, as he was known to be one of the toughest and
most ostentatious entertainment managers on the planet, at least in
New York City. He even disagreed with the contract Hammond, Sr. had
given Dylan and made him re-write it.
While Hammond, Jr. was a rich white boy
who loved and played really good black blues songs, he got the rock
and roll thing too, and Grossman started going through his massive
Rolodex they began throwing out names of rock and roll bands who
could possibly play “Like A Rolling Stone,” and tour with Dylan
to back the song and the next album that they knew could
revolutionize music as it was known at the time.
Dylan and Grossman
Dylan and Grossman
“Dion broke with the Belmonts,”
Grossman said dryly, “and we have this new group out of Chicago,
“The Paul Butterfield Blues Band is looking for work,.....” and
Hammond threw out the names of some of the groups he knew might fill
the bill, but then a squeaky, uncertain girls voice spoke up and
interrupted them.
“Excuse me Mr. Grossman but,” Grossman's secretary hesitated, “but, but I know a really good band – the Hawks.”
“Excuse me Mr. Grossman but,” Grossman's secretary hesitated, “but, but I know a really good band – the Hawks.”
Receptionist-secretary Mary Martin - had the same name as the actress who played Peter Pan,
had been sitting there fielding phone calls while taking it in, and if
they want a rock & roll band, well she really did know a good one
– the Hawks.
Originally from Canada, Martin went to
school in Ontario and caught the Hawks on numerous occasions.
“I saw the Hawks play back home and
they're really the best band I have ever seen or heard, even here in
New York,” Martin said.
“That's a pretty good endorsement,” Hammond spoke up, “and I'll vouch for them too; I met the Hawks on the road down south playing with Rockabilly Ronnie Hawkins, a real routy road bunch, but solid musicians.
Grossman looked at Dylan, and Dylan
looked at Mary Martin and John Hammond, Jr. and asked, “Where can
we find the Hawks?”
“Put in a call to Colonel Kudlets in
Ontario,” Grossman said to Martin, and without having to look in
his Rolodex, barked out the address and phone number from memory –
That's Harold Kudlets, Suite 824 Sheraton-Connauqht Hotel, Hamilton,
Ontario – 522-0900.”
Grossman talked to Kudlets directly,
one on one, mano to mano, they were two of a kind, and dealt on an
equal basis even though Grossman was much higher on the entertainment
totem pole since he was in Manhattan, the center of entertainment
power, and Kudlets was in Ontario, a third world market in the
entertainment universe.
Few words were exchanged, and when
Grossman put down the phone he said, “The Hawks are playing a
nightclub in Somers Point, New Jersey called Tony Marts, and they're
booked until Labor Day, and Kudlets said the contract is good but
they can be bought out of it if the money was there."
It's at this point in the proceedings
where things get a little foggy, as some accounts suggest that Dylan,
with Hammond, Jr. immediately drove down the Garden State Parkway to
Somers Point (Exit 30) to check out the Hawks at Tony Marts.
If they did they didn't call ahead or
announce the fact, and at the door paid the $2 cover to Sonny
McCullough, the guy behind the cash register at the door who took the
tickets and cover charge, they got a beer from Dick Squires at the
Triangle Bar, or Dooby at the Round Bar, and just took the whole scene in, giving the Hawks close
scrutiny.
If Dylan did come to Somers Point he didn't say hello to the Hawks or Tony Marotta, or tell anybody who he was, and he wasn't recognized, but its entirely likely that he did check out a performance by the Hawks before he tended them an offer, which he did one afternoon over the phone.
Now back to more solid historical
footing, as recounted by Levon, one day while they were rehearsing or
sitting around their dressing room on the second floor of Tony Marts,
they got a phone call, probably to the pay phone in the hall, and
Levon took the call.
Dylan identified himself and asked
Levon if he and the Hawks wanted to play with him at Carnegie Hall.
Levon was perplexed, he held the phone
away from him and told the other guys sitting around that it was Bob
Dylan.
“Whose Bob Dylan?” Levon asked, and
Richard leaned over and whispered in his ear, “Mr. Tambourine Man,”
and Dylan went back on the line and asked, “Who else is on the
bill?” he asked.
“Just us,” Dylan replied, as Levon
incredulously considered them selling out Carnegie Hall as something
that just wasn't possible.
But Dylan was serious, and talked Levon
into coming to New York City to see him, and the following Monday
while the Hangover League played ball, Levon, Robbie Robertson and
Garth Hudson drove up to New York City, possibly with Conway Twitty,
who had business in New York at the same time.
While Twitty was signing a new record
contract with a Country Music Lable, the three Hawks visited Dylan at
Grossman's office where they introduced themselves to Mary Martin,
the receptionist, who in turn introduced them to Dylan, sitting on
the couch in the adjacent lounge.
When Grossman came out of his office,
they all sat down around a reel to reel tape recorder and when they
were ready he turned it on and played the studio recording of “Like
A Rolling Stone,” that Dylan had made a few days earlier, mainly
with the Buttefield Blues Band and Al Kooper and some studio guys who
just happened to be there at the time.
Levon, Robbie and Garth listened, and
at the end of the song, they all sat back speechless for a few
seconds, until Dylan spoke up enthusiastically, “Do you want to
play that?” he asked.
That they did, but there was a problem,
you see. They were under contract to play at Tony Marts until Labor
Day, but Dylan said he needed them, and needed them Now, as he was
booked to play Forest Hills, a tennis area being used for folk shows,
on August 28, a little over a week away.
Impossible, they said, as Tony Marotta
was a tough one, and they liked him like their father and couldn't
and wouldn't break the contract with him.
Grossman spoke up for the first time
saying, “We'll double what they're paying you for the week and
we'll contract you for the year, and pay you even if you don't play.”
And Levon looked at Robbie who looked
at Garth and they all were just dumbfounded.
“Well, we'll see what we can do about
the Tony Marts gig and get back to you soon Mr. Dylan,” Levon said
shaking his hand, as Robertson and Garth got up and they all left
wondering what was going to happened now.
The ride back down the Parkway was a
quiet one, they kept the radio off and just thought about what was
going down, what could go down, and what would go down, and all of
the various possibilities.
Going with Dylan, someone spoke up sometime
along the ride. It was not like backing Ronnie Hawkins, as Hawkins was
stuck in the rut off the old Chitlin' Circuit, while Dylan was on his
way up, playing arenas, not nightclubs and roadhouses, and his song
was Number One on the pop charts at that moment, and they just heard
a new song that was going to go somewhere, and they just felt they
had to be a part of it and go along for the ride.
But how would they explain that to Rick and Richard and most of all Mr. Mart, Anthony Marotta, who had taken them off the road, given them a steady job and made them feel at home?
They couldn't and wouldn't screw him no matter what.
When they got back to Bay Avenue Somers
Point they asked for Rick and Richard and were told by Wordman,
cleaning up the joint, that they were across the street at Coach's
Corner, the little out door grill where they often ate and hung out
during the day.
After talking with Rick and Richard,
Levon went back across the street to Tony Marts, and as he did the
first day he arrived, walked through the club, now just getting ready
to open, and out the back door, past the canyon of beer cases and
kegs and knocked on Tony's office door.
Sitting across from Tony in his office
was a bit unnerving, especially given what Levon was about to tell
Tony, and he got what he expected.
Tony got up from his chair saying, “You
want to leave me before the BIGGEST weekend of the SUMMER!,” he shouted, and
Levon sat back in his chair, as Tony's voice shifted and went
from deep, dark and husky to a softer tone, and the acknowledgment
that, “it's a good opportunity for you boys,” - if it was anyone
else he would have called them bums. But the Hawks had been good to
him, so he sat down again and picked up the phone and said, “If
Colonel Kudlets has a band that can fill your shoes for Labor Day
weekend you can walk, you can go dance with Dylan, but Kudlets has
to come through.”
And Kudlets did come through with a
band that was acceptable to Tony – Mitch Ryder and the Detroit
Wheels, whose hit song, “Devil With The Blue Dress” was on the
charts and making like a bullet.
Then Tony did what he seldom does, he would throw a farewell party for the Hawks, something he had only done once
previously, for Len Carey and the Crackerjacks. Len Carey was a
protege of Spike Jones, and brought his New Orleans schtick to Tony
Marts, complete with beads and crackerjacks, while Spike Jones is
mentioned in “Up on Cripple Creek.”
Since Conway's birthday was coming up
soon, on September 1st, but he too was leaving Tony Marts,
his contract was up the week before Labor Day, so the farewell party
was going to be a double whammy – goodbye, so long, farewell to
both Conway Twitty and the Hawks, and planning for a fine Somers Point
send off party was in the works.
No comments:
Post a Comment