The man who wrote the song
had other music in his head which he was anxious to unload and thus
entered Richard Shoff to join with the man and form the Four Seasons,
who aren't them. The answer is that there were two others with the man
and Richard called Mike Piano and Jim Brady, of whom, yes, you've heard
because they're the Sandpipers.
As for the Four Seasons a* a name, they didn't keep it long because of
the other group of the same denomination, but they kept it long enough
to make a record which failed.
This was a pity for the group but it was not the fault of the foursome,
who were liked for themselves though not for the song.
This was a pity, too, for the writer left the group because of being
annoyed about his song not being dug. And there were three then and
there are three now.
Meanwhile, which is a good word-way of denoting the passage of time, the
three — Richard, Mike and James —kept working in calmer seas outside the
boiling tides of show business. Mike was a machinist and timekeeper for
ready, unskilled cash, but to protect his brain he was also at college
and later pursued a career in accounting, beginning as a stockbroker's
clerk.
And ending as one, too, for when musical success crooked its
professional finger, he leaped out of the safety boat never to return,
he believes. (What a name, while we're talking of Michael, is Piano. His
own and real.)
Richard worked at a peaceful desk, comforting himself with
air-conditioned insurance-clerking, and James, elsewhere, similarly
earned respectably money-making sure that when people died, their
relatives could, at least, afford to work.
Meanwhile, musically between 1962 and 1965 the three young men performed
contemporary harmonic songs for women's clubs in the Los Angeles area .
. and this, like their Mitchell training, was a phase of great
strictness which prepared them for what, they trusted, lay ahead.
And what did?
Rock'n'roll. In every sense of , that contemporary and most collective
of all adjectival nouns.
In 1964 they played their first rock'n'roll date at a graduation party
in Palm Springs. Applying the discipline of their childhood, they mode
themselves learn rock'n'roll songs and they employed musicians for
backing.
This was at the height of the Beatles' triumphs in America and it seemed
clear to everyone but the Daughters of the American Revolution that
rock'n'roll was here, if not to stay, then for a prolonged visitation.
The Grads, as the group hod been collectively and-` inaptly named,
started to learn how to play instruments, and in December, 1964, they
played a March of Dimes benefit in Burbank, contributing hard-core
rock'n'roll and liking it, too.
Earlier, they had stepped outside convention at a Hootenanny and
distinguished themselves by being the only performers not to sing folk
music.
Richard knew a girl who knew a man who knew a Lake called Tahoe and
Tahoe wanted a rock'n'roll group and it was the Grads who were
auditioned . • . not by Tahoe, but by the man . . . and they won.
A major choreographer arranged an act which featured the Grads and some
girl dancers and with a soul singer . . . also female. . . which made it
a very pleasurable gig to work and watch.
The act worked three shows a night for two weeks and was immediately
re-booked for a further three weeks. This was at Harrah's (where else?)
and it switched then . . . because it was becoming well known . . to
Reno for five weeks, also at Harrah's.
This, said the Grads to themselves, is WORK. Real work. Marvellous.
From Reno to San Jose. Two weeks' run this time. And then . . . to Las
Vegas, where you can presume they believed they had it, made, and in a
way they did, for they played the Sands for a month rind many people saw |
they played the Sands for a
month rind many people saw them and were pleased.
None of these dates were easy; club audiences talk and eat and drink and
laugh and 'argue and fight and write messages and take, phone calls and)
generally, do most things except listen. But beneath the hubbub, a club
audience is picking up vibrations and they know if an act is good or
bad, even if they don't appear to have heard a word or a note of music.
The Grads' club stints took them towards the end of 1965 when a clarion
.. . if not, trumpet . . call came from Herbie Alpert. They were asked
to audition for him and they did. He said, in essence: "You're good and
I like you. But we're a small operation and there's nothing open yet, so
come back in a few months".
They came back, in fact, in January, 1966, when genial Tommy Li Puma
brought his talented ear to A. & M. Records for a good fee.
Tommy auditioned the group, saw they had instant appeal, rapport,
musicianship and maybe a number of other things besides.
Sufficient, at least, to inspire Tommy Li Puma to seek material for them
as a matter of urgency. Inspiration like this, in a jaded industry, must
be the fruit of substance. Inadequate performers don't give off that
sort of aura.
A. & M. signed them in the early spring of 1966 and after a brief spell
with a less-than-satisfactory first release ("Everything In The Garden")
the Grads went out of town to the Silver Nugget in Vegas for five weeks.
Maybe, in that threatened, fearful, insecure way artists hove, they were
becoming disenchanted with their recording endeavours but if this were
the case, then the Grads didn't show it.
With optimistic faces they returned to A. & M. for a second attempt and
this time Tommy Li Puma, after exhausting, almost painful exploration of
a truckload of albums, hod discovered . . .. . . "Guantanamera".
The Grads became the Sandpipers and recorded the song and it became a
hit.
They did numerous television appearances to promote the record but there
are those who say there was no need for promotion at all, for there, in
the grooves, lay the success of the song.
There are hits, good hits, great hits and those that cannot miss.
"Guantanamera" was all of these and Tommy Li Puma, in that pessimistic
way of the producer who looks only into tomorrow, wondered where the
follow-up might come from.
Thus the Sandpipers in general.
In particular . . . looking far back now . . . Jim has been on two world
tours with the Mitchell Boys Choir and has appeared before both Pope
Pius XII and Pope John XXIII at St. Peter's Cathedral in Rome. The tours
included concerts in the Orient, the Philippines and most of Europe, and
the Choir also did a special concert for Princess Grace of Monaco.
For a little background on Mike we should contemplate his mother; who,
when young, sang with a choral group and with an orchestra in Cleveland,
under the direction of conductor Angelo Vitale. Mike's Sicilian
grandfather and his seven brothers all played musical instruments by ear
and when Mike was 10 he began playing piano.
Richard intended to be a child actor but music interested him more and
he was choir boy at St. James' Episcopal Cathedral in Los Angeles when
he joined the Mitchell Singers.
I think this is the Sandpipers today and I hope you are pleased with
them.Producer: Allen Stanton / Arranger: Nick
DeCaro / Engineer: Dick Bogert / Art Direction: 2 om Wilkes /
Photography (Cover) : Tom Wilkes.
Originally Recorded for, and Licensed by A. & M. RECORDS,
HollywoodMONAURAL AML-33,297 STEREO SAML-933,297 |