“These guys are the bee’s knees!”
– Glinda
We continue down the yellow brick road with the Dallas band:
The Bee’s Knees
Our first Album, aptly named The Bees’ Knees, had been released and was for sale in every Peaches and Sound Warehouse in America – and getting some airplay in certain regions. We had replaced Ron Mason with Rusty Lewis on keys, and Larry Rogers, who played on the album, was replaced by bassist Richard Bannister who also was on the album.
Guest artists on the record include – one of my wife’s favorites – Jimmie Spheeris and his bass player, Johnny Pierce, background vocals on ‘Milky Way’; and Willie Nelson’s harmonica player, Dallas native, Mickey Raphael on the song “Carolina.” Randy Lee on saxes and flute; and Frank Hames, piano.
And, man, those horns! It was a joy to record.
Our first concert was another trip to Texarkana. This time warming up for Elvin Bishop, a good match up – much better than Dr. Hook! Our road manager, Mike Howard, drove the band and our entourage in a decked-out RV, an equipment truck following. The show was terrific. And the highlight was the sensational Mickey Thomas singing their smash hit, “Fooled Around and Fell in Love.”
March, 1978, back in Big D, we showed up at the Texas Music Awards at the sprawling Lone Star Ballroom. We excepted our Buddy award: Critics Choice for Top Pop Group! Other winners were ZZ Top, Freddie King, Kris Kristoferson, and other notable Texas acts. Now we were making some progress, but somehow didn’t let it all go to our heads. (Well, maybe just a smidgen.) No time for that. We had work to do.
We traveled down to Austin for a Jimmie Spheeris concert at the grand Paramount Theater on Congress Avenue. When we entered our dressing room, Jimmie had filled it with roses. And there was a sign welcoming the Bee’s Knees! What a lovely gesture. Jimmie soloed that night on a grand piano with the band set-up in back of the curtain. After his show, they wheeled the piano away, and then the curtain opened to reveal the band kicking off. I gazed out into the doubled balcony theater and was mesmerized. What an awesome sight.
What a time we were having, somewhere in the middle of the milky way!
Weeks later we were sitting in our dressing room at Faces in Dallas. There was a knock at the door and who should appear but Mickey Raphael and his girlfriend, Teri Garr. They hung out for the evening, and Teri kept us in stitches. They made a cute couple, but I have to say, the beautiful Teri left quite an impression on me. What a charmer.
Gary Busey dropped by a few times and hung out with us at Faces. He was starring in the movie The Buddy Holly Story that was being filmed in Texas. He was very endearing, but totally out of his mind. He and I had a lot in common. (Hey, call me a name-dropper, I’ve been called worse.)
At one point I was recording with Robert Lee Cobb at Sumet-Bernet Studios. His album was entitled Take Off Your Clothes. (I chose to keep mine on.) The lovely Karen Bella, singer extraordinaire, had been overdubbing tracks. Later, I was tearing down my tubs in the drum booth when I heard harp music seemingly resonating from heaven! I had to pinch myself.
I walked out into the dimly lit studio and found Karen playing a magnificent harp; probably left over from an orchestral session. She played exquisitely. I was breathless. What a wonderful, ethereal moment tucked away in my memory.
On September 24, 1978, we headlined a concert at McFarlin Auditorium on the SMU campus. This was once the home of the Dallas Symphany Orchestra. (A place where I had seen everyone from the DSO to Steve Miller to Dave Bruebeck.) This concert was called: An Evening with the Bee’s Knees – and very special guest, the Karen Bella Group. I had suggested Karen and her band warm-up for us, and voilà… it was a memorable show.
One night at Faces, singer/songwriter B.W. Stevenson (“My Maria”) came up and introduced himself to me. He asked me to call him Buck. We chatted a bit and then he casually asked: “Would you like to play drums for me?” I told him I loved his music and was honored, but I was riding high with the Knees. We shook hands and he walked back out, into the crowd.
In October we did a fun concert with Cheech and Chong at Texas Hall. It was a terrific crowd that night. I had Jayebird with me, but that might have been a mistake. After the show some of the Knees and I were asked to join the stars in their dressing room lounge area. We spent quite a while laughing our asses off and drinking their beer. It was just like going over to a couple of nutty friends’ house and kicking back, like we were all partners in crime.
We were down there for quite a while, and then I remembered I had a wife waiting for me. Oh, my God!
“Behind every great man is a woman, rolling her eyes.”
– Jim Carrey
And then one hectic day, the Knees did a radio simulcast from a record store out on LBJ Freeway – probably a Sound Warehouse. After the show I packed out my little jazz set and rushed down to the NPR affiliate near downtown. I was to play a live set, on air, with my Sunday jazz band, the Dennis DeCrené Quintet.
We set-up on the sound stage and waited for the director to signal us to start. As we were waiting, I noticed a large cockroach headed for Dennis, who played a rare guitar: a 1942 D’Angelico New Yorker. He was sitting in a chair waiting, when the roach crawled up his leg and climbed into his guitar through an f-hole.
“Hey, Dennis,” I said in a hushed voice. “A cockroach just climbed into your guitar!” Dennis peered into the f-hole, but couldn’t spot him. He looked at me and said, “I hope he likes Jazz.”
(He’s a goddam cockroach. He hates jazz. He wants to hear fricking Leonard Skinnard!)
In May, 1979, we played a concert at the Palladium with our sister band from Popsicle Toes, the great Buster Brown Band. After the Knee’s, Rusty Lewis and Roger Burton joined funk masters Buster Brown for a good run.
Around that time, we ventured back to Autum Sound and started work on our second album, Pure Honey. By this point we had made more changes in the line-up. Anson would be playing on this album but would be moving on to form Anson Funderburgh & The Rockets. (Later adding Blind Sam Meyers to the mix.) Hot guitarist, Pat Darling, took over the guitar spot.
As on the prior album, engineer deluxe, Larry Wallace, was at the board. Later, Larry toured with Pink Floyd as their soundman. Believe me, we were in good hands.
Our sound was more sophisticated now. One irritable critic called the album “too smooth.” I don’t know about you, but if a beautiful woman called me smooth, I’d take that as a compliment! (That shmuck probably needed to get laid once in a while. Just sayin.’)
We won another Texas Music Award for Best Jazz Band,1979. That’s two Buddies! Richard Bannister and I accepted the award at the Longhorn Ballroom. Later I wrote a letter to Buddy Magazine: The fact that The Bee’s Knees were chosen Best Jazz Band pleases me greatly. We do not consider ourselves a jazz band and certainly not the best, but this award symbolizes something much more precious to me. It means that no matter what you call our music – you like it and support us. With this in mind we accepted the award.
One late morning I was taking a bath when Jayebird brought the phone in. It was our manager, Jon Dillon, on the line: “Hey! Can you and your drums make it out to Texas Hall this afternoon? We’re opening for Linda Ronstadt tonight and tomorrow night.” Hell, yeah! Glenn Frey and Linda Ronstadt were starting their joint tour in Dallas, but the Eagle’s singer was down with the flu.
That afternoon, after sound check, our road manager, Mike Howard, and I were back stage when we ran into Ms. Ronstadt. There she was, in tight shorts, working out with a pair of ‘smart bells.’ We had a very nice conversation and she was looking so fine. (Mike and I knew that Larry Flint, publisher of Hustler, had offered her a cool million bucks to pose nude for him. We kept that thought in mind.)
Linda was very engaging. And yes, I’d buy a Hustler… if she was in it! And by the way, the two shows were amazing. It doesn’t get much better!
Around this time, Jerry Jackson made a big career change. He quit the band and moved to New York City where he and a partner opened up The Cottonwood Café on Bleeker Street. It became the favorite haunt of the cast of SNL, and lovers of fine Texas victuals. Of course, Jerry serenaded his patrons with his music, and charmed them with his bodacious wit.
Later in 1979 we were playing at Fat Dog’s in Lubbock when I got word from Michael J. Martin that he needed me for a live recording session on Sunday. He arranged for me to fly to Dallas Sunday morning. (Drums were provided.) That night we recorded the live tracks with a large audience at Bowley & Wilson’s for his new album Windmill. The session was great . . . and no one died.
It was now 1980 and the band had metamorphosized into its final configuration.
We were playing quite a lot at Popsicle Toes off of Greenville Avenue and the Whiskey Box up north. We were covering Average White Band, Spiro Gyra, Steely Dan, etc. The unusual thing about our performances was that Mike Paulson ran sound and sang at the sound booth! (He was also managing the band at this time. I don’t know how he did it.)
In July, we packed essentials – musical instruments (without drums), amps, etc. – and loaded them into a large Anvil airplane case. We spread our wings and flew to Monterrey, Mexico. Peavy SA was to provide the PA, and supply the drum set.
The name of the fancy dance club was Sergeant Peppers. (The wealthy Mexican owner also had a cool restaurant called Strawberry Fields. Go figure.) The gig didn’t start until near midnight and we played into the wee hours. After the shows, we all piled into to two cabs that rushed us to our hotel in downtown Monterrey. I suppose the speedster who got us there first expected the bigger tip. Those late-night races were downright horrifying!
Back in Dallas, we opened for Delbert McClinton at the Palladium. It was a good show and Delbert turned out to be a very gracious person. (Not too many years later, our old keyboard player, Ron Mason, joined Delbert’s band. He had landed on his feet!)
Bass player Richard Bannister and I were contracted to record with singer Johnnie Taylor (“Who’s Making Love” and number-one pop hit “Disco Lady”) at Sundance Recording Studios. The session was produced by Don Davis and Rudy Robinson from Motown; and some world class musicians. Engineered by my English buddy Don Broughton. We did one song: “Bad Girls.” It was a high-pressure session, but we nailed it – and they liked it!
The last big concert we did was at the Convention Center Theater in downtown Dallas. We warmed up for Sea Level, named after band leader and piano man, Chuck Leavel from the Allman Brothers. His drummer was another Allman Brothers veteran, Jaimoe. I got to meet Chuck and found him to be a really sweet guy.
One night at Popsicle Toes our buddy, Gary Busey, brought two of his cast members up to see us play: Robbie Robertson and Jodie Foster. They were making the movie Carny. After the show, a few of us joined the actors at their table, told stories and laughed for quite a while. (Jodie, was only 17 at the time.) I can tell you this: getting drunk with Robbie Robertson – from The Band – was one of the biggest thrills of my life!
The Bee’s Knees had had a splendid trek on the yellow brick road. But one-by-one, we each clicked our heels together three times and reentered the long and winding road of life. (Seems like everybody went on to make money… except me!)
Our incredible bass player, Eric Udell, became the bass-man for The Blues Brothers. (Talk about clicking your heels together.) Unfortunately, while in their employ, Eric died in an accident in New York City. And now he’s somewhere in the middle of the milky way…
Free advice:
“To succeed in the music business, you need three things: a modicum of talent, a 12-step program, and a rich father.”
– DC Duncan
DC has been a frustrated musician for over fifty years, and now has decided to become a frustrated writer. Learn more at DCDuncan.com. He’ll keep you posted.