Feb. 17, 1978 Gusto Nightlife story: Three nights, three bands
Revisiting some familiar faces in the Winter of ‘78.
Caught
in the Act
Feb. 17, 1978
Pegasus
It’s been three years since the
The quintet is still remarkably young.
All of them are around 20 years old. Nonetheless, they’ve acquired a
considerable amount of instrumental prowess since they first broke into the
spotlight with their slide shows, costuming and other derivations of Genesis’
“The Lamb Lies Down on Broadway.”
Their escalating skill and confidence
show up in their “Overture” to the evening – a boil of keyboards condensing on
droplets of percussion before steaming into the main theme. Somewhere between
Genesis, Emerson, Lake & Palmer, and Mahavishnu Orchestra, it makes for an
appealing light classical intro for the fireworks to come.
And they come soon enough. Flamboyant
vocalist Mark Freeland bursts center stage in a furry wig, brandishing a large
Plexiglas axe, to bawl a number called, appropriately, “I’ve Arrived.” In the
next few selections, he changes costumes four times.
His professor, Freeland announces, has
said this is not a rock opera, but rather a rock cantata. It also holds hints
of new directions for Pegasus. Songs like “Beach Party 2000 (In the Heat)” and
“Armadillo Skin” edge toward a bizarre sort of pop futurism. Then there’s
keyboardman Stephen Trecasse’s ballads, which are totally beguiling,
reminiscent of what might be Paul McCartney’s outtakes.
The middle movement, “Crabs,”
conceived by Freeland on the beach in
“Communion,” the finale, is where
Pegasus mates rock with theater and religion. Each of the band members steps
forward in a robe depicting a brand name to offer a prayer.
Bassist Kent Weber is a Milky Way bar
who celebrates the joys of food. Drummer Cavanaugh, a Marlboro pack, sings
praises of smoking. Guitarist Vince Cooper, as a greenback dollar, celebrates
money. Keyboardman Trecasse, in a Gordon’s Gin sheet, gives an incantation for
booze.
Last is Freeland, in a sheet depicting
a starving child, to give a litany of people from Johnny Carson to Jimi Hendrix
while envelopes are passed to the crowd down front.
“Those were self-addressed envelopes
to my address in
Much of “Spontaneous Relationships,”
which was conceptualized, blocked out and rehearsed from scratch in three
weeks, will work its way into Pegasus’ sets every Thursday in McVan’s, 2078
Niagara St. at Hertel.
Freeland reports he is studying
recorder, clarinet and costuming (he made the costumes for the show) via Empire
State College’s independent study program, along with taking voice lessons.
It’s time. His vocals, once modeled on the pure progressive rock tenor of the
British bands, have become rougher and raspier. His techniques, once adequate,
now need strengthening to match the instrumental might of the band.
The group seems ready for any challenge at this point, even punk-rock. They sometimes find themselves better-liked as “The Clones” than as Pegasus. Nevertheless, the quintet clearly stands on the brink of big accomplishments. It is, as the Chinese have reminded us, the Year of the Horse.
Bananas
This has got to be the toughest spot
in the world for a middle-aged commercial-rock lounge act – Mean Guys East on
But Bananas doesn’t take this kind of
thing lying down. The moment the sound system deejay lifts the needle off the
Bee Gees, the band fires its first volley – a rude anti-disco song. Like the
man who conked the mule with a sledge hammer, Bananas has to get the crowd’s
attention. But this quartet is really nice people, after all. They prove it by
doing a sudden flip into K. C. & the Sunshine Band. Just kidding, folks.
Heh, heh, heh.
Next they bring someone up from the
audience to sing an old rock song. This reporter, having been snagged the last
time he saw Bananas, shrinks into a chair 10 feet away from chief prankster
Chuck Roast. Fortunately, Chuck (whose real name is Miano) doesn’t notice and
the world is spared from another rendition of “Louie, Louie.”
No one knows quite what to make of the
straight man of the group, singer Gail Wind (Nameth), and her balladizing on a
painfully sour “One Less Bell to Answer,” but they respond when she belts out
Linda Ronstadt’s “When Will I Be Loved.” All those attractive 20ish girls on the
dance floor sing along as they dance.
No one knows what to make of the wacky
humor either as it crackles among Chuck, bassist Jack O’Lantern (Nameth, husband
of Gail) and drummer Tony Chance (Schebell). The one-liners won’t quit, not
even when the band swings into an excellent ‘60s medley.
One of the tunes – sung to the melody
of “Wild Thing” – is called “Prune Juice.” The rest, however, are pretty straight
– Kinks, Turtles, Dave Clark Five, Rolling Stones. “Those,” says one young
woman, “were the days of good music.”
Score one for Bananas. This bunch can
go on like this all night. They go even better in an adult lounge setting,
where the jokes are more elaborate and the music is looser. That’s the kind of
place they’ll play for the next few weeks – the Poets Lounge in the Airport
Holiday Inn tonight, Saturday and all next week, and the Three Coins on
Argyle
Street Band
Old rock ‘n rollers never die. They
just keep regrouping. Here on the stage of the Bona Vista,
Sure enough, the lead singer is Blue
Ox’s tall, blond and bearded Willie Schoellkopf. On guitar and pedal steel
guitar is Posse’s Doug Morgano, with former mate Steve Sadoff on bass.
Keyboardist Ronnie Davis played with both bands. The only one who didn’t is the
drummer, Peewee Bass, who was recruited from the M. F. Buzz Band, which used to
hold down Sundays at the Bona.
All of them except Bass are newly
returned from a year in
Their originals touch the familiar
country-rock influences – the Band, the Allman Brothers, the Tex-Mex sound of
Ry Cooder (with
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IN
THE PHOTO: Buffalo News photo of Stephen Trecasse of Pegasus in costume.
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FOOTNOTE:
I previously wrote about Pegasus in January 1976 and did stories on Posse in
June 1973 and on Blue Ox in February 1974. Easiest way to check on those is by
searching for my name on blogger.com, where all these stories are kept in a
folder called “Archival Buffalo News feature articles,” then doing a search for
the band names.
I don’t find Bananas or any of the
members of that band in those articles, though. What I discovered elsewhere is that Chuck
Miano went into the restaurant business in 1978, opening
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