Sometimes you’re Kiss . . . and sometimes you’re Rockicks: Phantoms from the Rock ’n’ Roll Oblivion
The Career of Guitarist Jerry Zubal with L.A.’s Rockicks and Detroit’s Pendragon: A first in a series of interviews with Detroit’s lost rockers
Editor’s Update, December 1, 2024: Starting in early 2022, Jerry Zubal has gone through life-changing events with his health. After contracting COVID in March 2021, he suffered from inflammatory POTS, Epstein-Barr virus, Lyme Disease, mold colonization within his body, gallstones, and kidney stones. Those illnesses have since progressed, by January 2023, into having vascular dementia and Alzheimer’s disease — which has left him no longer knowing how to play guitar.
In the interest of preserving Jerry Zubal’s expansive career, this Aug 17, 2018, article is now addendumed with two interviews: The first, which I personally conducted just prior to Mr. Zubal’s health issues, was published to European audiences in March 2023, courtesy of the digital pages of It’s Psychedelic Baby Magazine. The second interview, conducted by Mike Dugo in the very-early 2000s, appeared in the now defunct digital pages of his garage rock tribute blog, 60sgaragebands.com.
Our thanks to Klemen Breznikar and Mike Dugo for their efforts and permissions in honoring the life and career of Jerry Zubal.
You’re in for a treat as Jerry’s career zigs and zags with encounters with Freddie Cannon and Paul Revere and the Raiders, brief tenures with Glenn Frey, Bob Seger and Rare Earth, along with Doug Ingel of Iron Butterfly and Academy Award Winning Actress Terry Moore, and so many more . . . with a plethora of all new, never-seen rare photos of Jerry’s bands to enjoy, as well as video embeds of his music.
In the long ago, pre-Internet years of this writer’s youth, the old brick-and-mortar record store was an oasis; an escape from parents, school, and work. Solace was found in the store’s cataloged aromas of used, musky cardboard and dusty, scratchy vintage vinyl; the removal of each album from its cover and dust jacket was gold discovered in a treasure chest. In those callously disposed analog days, progressive-rock radio, with her weird, nonconformist transmissions of progressive rock and proto-metal of the late sixties and early seventies (later known as “AOR” (Album Oriented Rock) by the late seventies, then callously homogenized and computerized as “classic rock” in the eighties), music was this writer’s Seven Seas; a Sinbad on a weekly, swashbuckling tale of audio discoveries.
Today, in our regimented, digitized world, automated society disposed of those off-the-rack, glossy magazines from our local bookstores, such as Circus, Hit Parader, and Creem (here in the States; in the U.K, it was Sounds and New Music Express), which served as a rocker’s treasure maps to sail those vinyl waves and discover new islands and ports of call that came in the form of rock ’n’ roll bands. One of the many bullions discovered by this salty rock ’n’ roll pirate was a band known — and unknown, not even given a fair chance by regimented radio programmers and trend-hopping record buyers to be forgotten — as Rockicks.
Unlike most of this writer’s favorite bands of the pre-classic rock epoch, such as the radio-ignored Angel, Axis, Blackjack, Black Sheep, the Boyzz, Fortnox, the Godz, Legs Diamond, Piper, Rex, Riggs, Roadmaster, Stars, and Target — which we rockers would not have known, if not for the days of the hard-copy rock press — and April Wine, May Day, Riot, Shooting Star, and Survivor — which received additional, but bare minimal, radio support — Rockicks received neither the ink or airwaves of other bands.
Rockicks opening for a KROQ-FM sponsored event.
The Longhorn was once known as the legendary Aquarius Theater in the ’60s and very early ’70s during the birth of progressive rock//courtesy of M. Faulk.
Rockicks was one of those lost nuggets you discovered, not through the rock press or radio or record company marketing. Like any gold-infected pirate, you sailed off on the asphalt waves in your cherished, used 1975 Pontiac Firebird and dove into the vinyl ocean of a local record store and you found it — by accident. As with the above noted bands, Rockicks was the happiest of accidents for this writer. Rockicks, like those other bands, was my band; I found them. Rockicks wasn’t the latest, trendy spandex ’n’ hairspray pretty-boy band or some candy-coated new wave cookie cutter or some droning electro-pop unit marketed by Madison Avenue-dictated radio programmers. Rockicks was real rock ’n’ roll rife with heart, body, and soul. There was no second-rate Kiss-theatrics, no Knackesque cloning, no second-generational loss copying of the Cars. This was down-and-dirty rock ’n’ roll of majestic, Cheap Trick-proportions. “How in the hell did I not hear about these guys when this album first dropped in stores?” I asked. “Why did I find out about it after the fact?” I miffed.
So, who are the members Rockicks? Where did this ripping, barnstormer of band, which issued a lone album in 1977 on RSO Records, come from? Where did they go? Did they give up the rock ’n’ roll dream and grudgingly take non-rock day jobs?
Rockicks debuts at the Roxy, newly signed to RSO Records, in the pages of Cashbox, February-March 1977. Courtesy of World Radio History.com magazine archives.
As a liner-note junkie, this writer searched high and low for more information on Rockicks’ members: guitar/vocalist Jerry Zubal, bassist/vocalist Sammy Pate, Jr., guitarist/vocalist Brian Naughton, and drummer Rich Altschuler. (Outside of Rick Altschuler, they all wrote material and shared lead vocals on their individual compositions.) As far as this writer could tell, none were in any band before or after Rockicks.
Then one day: Eureka! “Jerry Zubal” mystically appeared on the rear cover of an old 1972 copy of an album by 1776 — another one of those bands that received little-to-none of the ink or airwaves afforded to Black Sabbath, Deep Purple, and Led Zeppelin (or, more accurately, in the case of 1776, the Eagles) in the early-days of progressive FM radio. Then, another familiar name appeared on the 1776 cover: Hideout Productions. Then another: Palladium Records. Then there was the name: Punch Andrews. “Hey, this connected to Bob Seger! Rockicks are from Detroit!” (Or so this writer thought.) Thus, this then wee-rocker poured over rock tome after rock tome about Detroit’s rock scene; read or skimmed every book, or at least thumbed the indexes, of every career chronicle on Bob Seger, Ted Nugent, Iggy Pop, and the MC 5 — anyone and everyone from Detroit. Not a mention of Rockicks to be found — or 1776 for that matter.
Early ’70s shows with 1776: July 12, 1972 at Sherwood Forest with Brownsville Station; headlning on June 10, 1972, at the Melody Ballroom in Inkster, Michigan.
It wasn’t until this writer began researching and writing an investigation on the Phantom of Detroit from 1974 in the pages of The Ghosts of Jim Morrison, the Phantom of Detroit, and the Fates of Rock ’n’ Roll, that a discovery regarding the twisted roots and branches of Rockicks occurred. As with the fabled, non-comedic divine comedy of Jim Morrison’s ghost, the careers of the musicians behind Rockicks shuffled the same old song-and-dance routine: a close-but-no cigar lifestyle; stubbed-out in a managerial ashtray peppered with almosts, maybes, not today, and no thank yous.
So, while this rock ’n’ roll curmudgeon waxes nostalgic on the societal ills rout by the Internet beast and the death of a cherished analog, non-software world — for once — the World Wide Web served rock ’n’ roll well. Thanks to the technical ecstasy of Internet Search Engines and Video Sharing Sites (Google and You Tube), the mystery of this band from Detroit (?), unfurled.
Jerry Zubal got his start in the Quintels, which eventually dropped the “Qu” for a “Kw,” for a new, sounds-the-same-but-spelled-differently, rocking handle: Kwintels. Typical of the Beatles-cum-Stones-cum-Kinks-inspired British Invasion relished in States, this American band sported a similarly dressed, clean cut image. Then, the Beatles ditched the “power-pop” and recorded “Helter Skelter.” Led Zeppelin’s electrified blues arrived.
So, as did all the young rockers of the times, Jerry Zubal sharpened those six-strings for some harder sounds. For a while, there was Poetic Justice. Then, with Gary Gawinek (later to become the Tour Manager for Bob Seger), came the harder-rocking Tea. Once under the auspices of Bob Seger’s manager, Punch Andrews, Tea rechristened as 1776. One liberty-spread eagle cover later — that features their take on ex-Traffic’s Dave Mason’s debut solo hit, “Only You Know and I Know,” and a single release of the Byrds’ rearrangement of the Art Reynolds Singers “Jesus Is Just Alright” — Jerry’s Zubal’s connection to the pre-stardom career of Bob Seger was over (in fact, Zubal worked as a short-lived touring bassist for Seger; then rehearsed as his lead guitarist; Zubal quit the concern and Drew Abbott, formerly with Third Power, joined; they became the Silver Bullet Band). Then the injury to the insult: next year, the Doobie Brothers scored a massive AM and FM radio hit with the song that failed 1776 and sparked a quickly burnt-out-and-faded away “Jesus Rock” craze in the early seventies.
Meanwhile, down in the heart of the U.S Southern Rock south — spearheaded by the likes of Blackfoot, Lynyrd Skynyrd, Molly Hatchet, and the Outlaws — in the cities of Smyrna and Augusta, Georgia, Rockicks’ future rhythm section of bassist Sammy Pate, Jr. and drummer Rick Altschuler were carving their side of pork from the music industry’s porcine hide.
Rick was part of the extended family of southern rockers, Black Oak Arkansas, which achieved brief fame in the States with their only radio-charting single, the Top 30 hit, “Jim Dandy (to the Rescue).” Black Oak Arkansas became popular enough with concert goers that the band’s female co-lead vocalist, Ruby Starr, scored a three-album solo deal with Capitol Records — and Rick Altschuler sat on the kit. Ruby Starr opened shows, not only for BOA, but for Blackfoot, Black Sabbath, and Edgar Winter. And as only as the Fates of Rock ’n’ Roll would have it: Ruby Starr and her band, Grey Ghost, ended up in Toledo, Ohio, for a gig with several other bands — one of which was Jerry Zubal’s Tea.
Sammy Pate, Jr., who at one time lived across the street from Elvis Presley’s TCB band bassist, Jerry Scheff (who recorded as a studio bassist with Jim Morrison and the Doors), got his start as the lead vocalist, and later as bassist, with the southern-rock band Cisco, a band formed by guitarist Grover Jackson; the band had the same booking agent and played on the same southern concert circuit stages as Lynyrd Skynyrd. Upon the demise of Cisco, with Grover off to find his fortune as a renowned guitar luthier with Jackson and Charvel guitars, Sammy toured for a time with another, yet softer, southern-rock band: the Atlanta Rhythm Section. By the time Sammy transplanted to Los Angeles and met Brian Naughton, he’d only been playing bass for less than two years when he joined Rockicks.
While Sammy and Rick rocked out in gator country, and Jerry Zubal rocked the Great Lakes, Brian Naughton formed his first teen group, the Velaires in 1961. In 1965, it was all about the Beach Boys, Jan and Dean, the Rip Chords and the Rivieras, so Brian ditched the British Invasion for a surf-sound with the Persuaders. Then another, harder “wave” stormed in from Britain — in the form of the hard-rock trinity of Led Zeppelin, U.F.O, and Uriah Heep. Brian’s next project, in which he served as the chief songwriter, vocalist and guitarist, the hard-rocking quartet, Rock Candy, caught the eye of producer and record executive Mike Curb — and Brian became part of the MGM Records’ family, alongside bubblegum teen idols, the Osmonds, and the “devil worshipping” Coven.
Sadly, Rock Candy’s stellar, MC 5-inspired, eponymous debut album for MGM was three years before the arrival of Sammy Hagar and Montrose (who had their own “never was” hit with a song, “Rock Candy”); Montrose themselves were too groundbreaking for their own good. (The streamlined hard rock of Rock Candy and Montrose was eventually deemed commercially acceptable, upon the arrival of Van Halen in the late seventies.)
While radio programmers and the record-buying public ignored Brian Naughton’s brilliance, the musicians on the L.A scene didn’t: In 1972, Brian joined a ready-to-implode Peanut Butter Conspiracy, which had a huge Jefferson Airplane-inspired “hippie-hit” in 1967, “It’s a Happening Thing.” Then Brian was off to greener pastures with the Grass Roots in 1973, appearing with the band on U.S television’s American Bandstand, along with early-seventies variety shows hosted by Sonny & Cher and Kenny Rogers.
After the Grass Roots imploded that same year, Brian returned to the Rock Candy-formula with his new, hard-rock venture: Rockits. Meanwhile, his ex-Roots bandmate, vocalist and songwriter Warren Entner, became a successful manager with his own Warren Entner Management and the Toby Organization, which managed Angel and the Randy Rhodes-era Quiet Riot. Also on Entner’s managerial roster: Brian Naughton’s Rockits. (Moving into the alternative-rock arena, Entner found success guiding the careers of Faith No More and Rage Against the Machine.)
Take notice of the nascent version of Van Halen — Wolfgang — on the bill/image courtesy of the Rock Corporation Facebook page.
By 1976, Jerry Zubal left Detroit for the epicenter of American rock ’n’ roll: Los Angeles. Joining Rockits, they became the house band at Van Nuys’ famed venue, Rock Corporation, for three years — and played shows alongside Mammoth, on their way to becoming Van Halen. Signed by ex-Beatles’ employee Robert Stigwood’s RSO Records (yes, home to the Bee Gees, but also Eric Clapton) and rechristened as “Rockicks” (possibly to avoid confusion with RSO’s other hard-rock signing — ironically out of Zubal’s hometown of Detroit — the Rockets), they set forth to record their debut album:1977’s Inside.
Rockicks opens for Angel in the pages Cashbox, February 1977. Courtesy of World Radio History.com magazine archives.
The Warren Entner relationship between the Randy Rhodes-era Quiet Riot and Rockicks went as far as the two bands bunking in a common rehearsal space. Rockicks also opened shows for Quiet Riot at the Aquarius Theatre and the Roxy in Los Angeles and other west coast venues, along with opening for Angel at the Santa Monica Civic Auditorium. Rockicks even had their own promotional radio spot for their new album aired on Los Angeles’ #1 rated rock radio station, KMET 94.7 FM (thanks to Sammy Pate, Jr. for sharing the spot with this writer).
Then the “big break” came: Rockicks booked a highly-coveted opening gig at L.A’s premiere rock venue — the Roxy. For reasons lost to the test of time, Rockicks lost that opening slot for what turned into a breakthrough gig for Blondie; Rockicks was replaced by a new, unheard of band: Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers. Blondie and Tom Petty found quick success on the radio, with record buyers, and on the concert circuit with their self-titled debut albums issued in 1976.
Sadly, Inside failed to match the success of Debbie Harry’s or Tom Petty’s albums; RSO decided against recording a sophomore effort. Heading back into the studio, Rockicks cut a new, three-song demo that tickled the ears of MCA Records — a new deal was coming! Sadly, the MCA deal had a caveat: they would serve as the backing band for one of the “established” artists on the MCA roster. Rockicks turned down the deal.
ROCKICKS: Radio Play, Record Store Sales, and New Release News in the pages of Walrus, March-April 1977. Courtesy of World Radio History.com.
During this writer’s research for The Ghost of Jim Morrison, pruning the overgrowth from the Phantom’s many branches, the MCA Records’ careers of Ray Kennedy and Erik Braunn became entangled in this rockologist’s pricks and briars.
Lost somewhere between the supergroup legitimacy of Blind Faith and the failed fabrication of Rhinoceros, was MCA Records’ supergroup entry: KGB, which imploded after a 1977 tour and two 1976 albums — KGB and Motion. KGB came together when the label drafted Blind Faith bassist Rick Grech into a rhythm section with ex-Beck, Bogert and Appice drummer Carmine Appice, to back the songwriting core of the band’s acronym — British blues-vocalist Ray Kennedy (wrote the Babys’ late-Seventies hits “Isn’t It Time” and “Everytime I Think of You”; “Sail On, Sailor” for the Beach Boys), along with Electric Flag’s keyboardist and guitarist, Barry Goldberg and Michael Bloomfield.
In addition to forging a career for Ray Kennedy, MCA was equally committed to developing a solo career for Erik Braunn, formerly with Iron Butterfly. Braunn’s MCA deal was the result of two factors: his leaving the band after 1969’s Ball, and Iron Butterfly’s first split after the failure of 1971’s Metamorphosis. As the Fates of Rock ’n’ Roll would have it: Braunn signed his first solo deal with MGM Records (home to Rock Candy), where he recorded an unreleased solo album, White Clouds. Then Braunn recorded a second, unreleased solo album for MCA.
However, once Iron Butterfly’s former drummer, Ron Bushy, seated the drum stool for Bruann’s MCA-solo deal, Bruann’s songs became new material for a revamped Iron Butterfly on the Scorching Beauty and Sun and Steel efforts. After the second dissolution of Iron Butterfly, MCA retained their solo deal with Erik Braunn — around the same time the label expressed interest in Rockicks. If this writer’s investigative assumptions are accurate, how ironic Rockicks turned down the Bruann offer: Jerry Zubal, along with Ed Houlehan (formerly with Victor Peranino’s Kingdom Come), backed another Iron Butterfly refugee, Doug Ingle, on his solo demos — after Rockicks’ demise.
Sidebar Bonus Dissertation: Lane Caudell and Rockicks?
Note: This also appears in the context of my exposé on the career of Lane Caudell — and the late ’70s MCA connection between Lane and Rockicks got this writer to thinking. . . .
During this writer’s research into the life and career of Jim Morrison’s reluctant doppelganger, Arthur “The Phantom” Pendragon, I became acquainted with the career of a late-Seventies L.A band by the name of Rockicks. After their failed tenure with RSO Records (1978’s Inside), Rockicks was courted by MCA Records, only to discover the label wasn’t interested in signing the band as an individual artist — they wanted to recruit Rockicks as the backing band for an artist already a part of the MCA roster.
At the time of Rockicks’ negotiations with the label, MCA was committed to developing a solo career for Eric Bruann — who was responsible for most of the post-Sixties output by psychedelic rock/proto-metal pioneers Iron Butterfly — and British blues singer Ray Kennedy — who penned hits for the Beach Boys and the Babys. At the time, Bruann fronted Iron Butterfly, then under the MCA banner, and MCA’s prefabricated “supergroup” for Kennedy, KGB, fell apart. So, in the pages of The Ghosts of Jim Morrison, this writer reached the conclusion that the artist that MCA wanted Rockicks to back was either Bruann or Kennedy.
However, as result of [my] chronicle on the career of Lane Caudell, this writer has come to the new conclusion that this forgotten mystery artist that Rockicks was to support was Lane Caudell. This conclusion is reached as result of the Warren Enter connection between Rockicks and Caudell. Also: Lane’s two MCA albums were issued in 1978 and 1979, around the time Rockicks was dropped by RSO and MCA expressed interest.
Rockicks, as result of that band’s founder, Brian Naughton, being a former member of the Grass Roots, and his ex-Grass Roots mate, Warren Enter, managing both Lane Caudell’s Skyband and Naughton’s post-‘Roots endeavors . . . is it possible that Warren Enter attempted to pair the musicians together?
Jerry didn’t think so, but it’s fun to speculate!
By 1978, Rockicks was over. Jerry Zubal returned to Detroit, Michigan, where it all began, and joined Pendragon — the new, streamlined, pop-oriented rock band formed by Jim Morrison’s former ghost; the man behind the Phantom’s Divine Comedy album. (During one of Rockicks’ many L.A gigs, a mysterious musical guest jumped on the stage for a few songs. While the venue and songs are lost to the test of time, the identity of the guest is not — it was Jim Morrison’s ghost, the Phantom of 1974, who was friends with Jerry Zubal since the late sixties.)
Upon the demise of his tenure with Pendragon (see the article “Pendragon: The Lost Album and other Lost Rockers of the Great Lakes,” on my Medium page), Jerry Zubal joined forces with another of Detroit’s musical refugees, Johnny Heaton, whose old band, Tantrum, under the managerial hand of Punch Andrews, served as Bob Seger’s opening act in 1974. (Ironically, Tantrum got the Seger gig after the Phantom had a dispute with Andrews and lost the opening slot.) The musical union between Jerry Zubal and Johnny Heaton continues in Detroit to this day, with the acoustic duo Catching Fire and the harder-rocking classic-rock outfit, Rock Anthem.
Sammy Pate, Jr. also stayed in the music business working as a studio and touring musician for numerous acts. One of those gigs resulted in his working with Danny Spanos in the early eighties, who issued two AOR-inspired albums and one EP, along with a U.S Top 40 hit, “Hot Cherie.”
Rick Altschuler left the music business to concentrate on family and other interests, before passing away in Los Angeles.
Brian Naughton, by then with a wife and children, turned to his second job as a full-time career: an ITASE-certified carpenter and stagehand in Los Angeles’ film and television industry.
Rockicks in the pages of Raw Power alongside Quiet Riot and opening for Quiet Riot and Legs Diamond for a KROQ event.
And the Quiet Riot connection to the Naughton family continued with Brian’s brother, James, who took guitar and bass lessons from the pre-fame Randy Rhodes and Rudy Sarzo. James formed his first band, White Heat (not Johnny Heaton’s pre-Tantrum band), which became a mainstay at L.A’s famed club, FM Station. White Heat eventually transformed into Ninja and signed a deal with Rage International; they cut an album and toured with burgeoning hair-metal stars, Ratt.
It all came full circle by 2004. The rock ’n’ roll bug bit Brian once again, with the encouragement of his equally talented son, Corey, on guitar and lead vocals, and James on bass — the Naughtones arrived. Their self-produced album, From the Nut, won the 2006 L.A Music Award for “Independent Classic Rock Album of the Year”; their eponymous, 2008 sophomore effort won the L.A Music Awards’ “Producer’s Choice Award.” Sadly, before this great band could achieve a major-label deal or nationwide recognition, Brian Naughton passed away from a heart attack.
In these post-analog days, the music of Rockicks lives on, thanks to You Tube, with fans uploading their copies of Inside to the video-sharing service. And as with the Phantom of 1974, and many rockers of those pre-Internet days, Rockicks enjoys posthumous fame — not a financially beneficial one — but fame nevertheless.
Today, this old rocker typing away on a keyboard travels not the asphalt waves to the local vinyl oasis for his music doubloons; today a seat is taken behind a laptop to sail the digital cloud to uncover musical gold. In preparation for The Ghosts of Jim Morrison, an examination on the life and times of the Jim’s phantasmal doppelganger from 1974, this writer discovered Asian, German, Finnish, French, Polish, Portuguese, Russian, and Swedish-language blogs that touted Rockicks as a “very underestimated rock band,” and mention: “if you like ‘stoner rock,’ ‘biker rock,’ and a ‘southern-rock groove,’ you’ll love Rockicks.” Other blogs namedrop the early-years of David Coverdale’s post-Deep Purple endeavors with Whitesnake, along with forgotten seventies “biker rock” bands, such as the Boyzz and the Godz, as to describe the “sound” of Rockicks. As a most recent, April 2018 blog praise from France proclaimed: “Dans le grenier du Serpent Blanc” — “From the Attic of Whitesnake,” indeed.
So, if you are reading this article, and you never heard of Rockicks, then do yourself a favor: dig in the digital music attic of You Tube and check out the RSO and MCA-era tunes of Rockicks. Allow this writer to introduce you to the boys (via their album cover for Inside): that’s Jerry Zubal and bassist Sammy Pate, Jr. on the left; the late Brian Naughton and late drummer Rick Altschuler, clutching the wine glass and beer can, respectively, on the right. And as you rock out with Rockicks, leave a post to let the guys know that their now digitally-transformed music, while not making them any coin, has your admiration and respect. Lift a glass and toast them one, will ya? Remember, your fandom means more to them than any amount of money — at least to the real rockers of the rough ’n’ tumble business of rock ’n’ roll; the ones chewed up, spat out, and forgotten. And that is what Rockicks is, baby. Real, honest, kick ass, American rock ’n’ roll. Flash those horns and blaze those lighters and chant their name: “Rockicks, Rockicks, Rockicks. . . .”
Interview: Part 1: Jerry Zubal with R.D Francis
Let’s start our discussion with a very interesting Wamplers Pavillion flyer.
There’s a funny story that goes with that Wamplers Pavilion show that Tea opened for the Stooges. Iggy didn’t show up. Some guy, nobody knew who he was, jumped up on the stage and he “did” Iggy. He had the vocals and the moves down. He did the full Stooges set. No one had a clue as to who he was — not even the Stooges. Or whatever happened to him.
I’ve read a few Iggy biographies and that story never popped up. Hey, since everyone thought the Phantom was really Iggy: wouldn’t it be wild if that “guy” was Arthur Pendragon, well, Ted Pearson back then — and he “did” Iggy?
Now I know you’re kidding. Don’t even joke about that. No, I knew Art [Ted] back then with his band, Madrigal, which came after the Revolvers. Trust me, it wasn’t him.
What’s the tale behind the Kwintels and the Paul Revere and the Raiders photo?
There’s a funny story that goes with that show, as well. We opened for them in 1965. I was fifteen at the time and that gig with the Raiders was in Lake Orion in this small theatre turned into a rock club. I forget the name.
So the Raiders showed up with no equipment and had to borrow ours. I handed my guitar to Drake “The Kid” Levin, their lead guitarist, and he said, “Hey, this is exactly like my guitar.” And I say, “I know, it’s on your album cover and you played it on ‘Where the Action Is’ [a then popular U.S. TV show]. That’s why I bought it.” At the time, the Raiders had a pretty big hit with “Steppin’ Out.”
So, the Raiders are doing their set and Drake starts banging on the keyboard with the headstock — and takes a chip out of it. Now, for me being a fifteen year old with a new, Kalamazoo, Michigan-made Epiphone Wilshire, I was pretty angry. Then, I caught myself: I realized I just had my guitar “chipped” by a rock star!
So a few years later, I’m about twenty-three at the time and in Los Angeles at a party. And who is there: Drake Levin. So, I go up and introduce myself; I mention the Lake Orion gig where they showed up without any equipment. And he remembers the gig! So as I am telling the story, a few others gathered around. And I mentioned I had just bought the Wilshire and he started banging the keyboard with the headstock. So, his face has this “oh, no” look on it, and everyone can’t believe I am saying this to him. So he starts to apologize and I stop him. I told him, “You know what, when it happened I was angry, but then I realized: my guitar was chipped by a rock star”. And we all had a good laugh out of that. That guitar would be worth about $4,500 today.
We spoke in the past about you doing a gig with Freddie Cannon of “Palisades Park” fame, but I never got the whole story.
That was another Lake Orion gig, where I grew up, as well as Ted Pearson and Harold Beardsley, his long-time bassist. I was fifteen and we opened for Freddie. But he also needed a backup band for the gig. So we learned the set and did it. Well, he was really impressed and said he was going to take us, the Kwintels, to dinner. Then, later on, we see a roadie bring Freddie dinner in the back where there’s a table set up with a tablecloth and candle — Freddie ate alone. And between that and him being kind of rude in general, we were angry.
So I got a call a few days after that gig from our manager to back Freddie on another Michigan date; he wanted us since we knew the set. The Kwintels turned him down, because, well you know, you’re fifteen and this “rock star” promises to buy you dinner, but doesn’t. Looking back, we should have done it. Would it have led to something? Who knows?
As when you had the offer from MCA for Rockicks to back a solo artist on their roster.
Yes, exactly. But we were cocky enough back then to say “no” to the offer. So you never know. So all of those memories from that Wamplers Pavilion poster.
So you went from Paul Revere and the Raiders, to Freddie Cannon, to the Stooges. Not many musicians say that. What can you tell me about the photo of Poetic Justice?
That’s actually a photo of Tea during a short period of time we called ourselves by that name. Gary Gawinek, formerly with We Who Are, had just left and Rick James was the new lead singer. Bryan Barnes hadn’t yet joined, that was a ways off. Then Punch Andrews became our manager and, because he feared there was a “drug inference” with the Tea name, we officially became 1776. The band in the PJ photo is Bill Doral, Eg Mahan, Don Lucking, myself, and Rick James. It was taken out back, behind the Silverlake property where a lot of Punch’s bands took promo photos. Joe Aramini, who also managed Ted Pearson’s Madrigal, was our manager.
You were signed with the Toby Organization, which also handled Quiet Riot and Angel.
Yes, when I got out to Los Angeles and hooked up with Brian Naughton to form Rockicks, we did shows alongside Van Halen who were just starting out. Rockicks also opened shows and shared a common rehearsal space with the Randy Rhodes-era of Quiet Riot. Another one of our run-ins was with Blondie. I can’t recall the reasons, but at the last minute: we lost our opening slot for what turned out to be a breakthrough gig for Blondie at L.A.’s famed Whisky a Go-Go. Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers, who just released their debut album, got the opening slot. That gig broke Petty, nationally.
Pendragon with Jerry Zubal: From left: Arthur Pendragon (vocals; bass guitar, Bob Ellis (keys), Jerry Zubal (vocals; lead and rhythm guitars), Ed Lawson (drums), Jeffrey Johnson (drums). Photo courtesy of Jeffrey Johnson.
I like to talk about your time in Pendragon, alongside Ted Pearson, aka Arthur Pendragon
Sammy Pate, Jr., my bandmate in Rockicks, reminded me of Ted coming up on stage during one of our L.A. club gigs around 1977. Neither of us can remember the venue or songs, but Ted jammed with us for a couple of tunes.
I have to note that when I worked with Ted, alongside Chris Marshall as my co-guitarist and Ted on bass, I knew him as Ted Pearson. Arthur Pendragon was Ted’s musician, stage and artistic name, as I recall from the Walpurgis days. As Chris and I talked about old times, he was right: Ted was proficient on guitar, bass and keyboards, but not a master of either instrument. He got by on each, but got by well on them. The band was myself, Chris, Bob Ellis on keys, and Jeff Johnson on drums. Amid our live sets of the usual covers, which included a couple of Doors tunes, we did the originals “Kat of the Amazon” and “Come to the Sea,” as well as “Storms” and “Lonewolf,” the latter two that everyone knows from that pirated bootleg.
‘Phantom: The Lost Album’, which are Pendragon’s 1977 demos recorded at Tom Carson’s Fiddlers Music.
Right. But I do not appear on those recordings. Neither does Chris Marshall. We have no idea who’s on those tapes. I believe Chris helped Art write a few of those tunes in Ted’s garage-home studio. Chris definitely came up with some of the licks.
I found music publishing records showing Ted, as Earl Theodore Pearson, his birth name, published six songs under the Pendragon name in February of 1976. Do you recall “Rock ’n’ Roll Dream,” “Gypsy Girl,” “Time Touches My Life,” “Midnight Highway,” “Sailin’ Away,” and “Child of the Sun” as songs you played live.
I was still in Rockicks in 1976 and didn’t come back to Detroit until 1978. That’s when I joined Pendragon, alongside Chris. I don’t recall any of those songs. As you know, long before Pendragon, my first professional band in Detroit was the Kwintels, which disbanded in 1968 [the year Ted Pearson formed the Walpurgis precursor, Madrigal]. We were regulars at the Silver Bell Hideout, the Clawson Hideout, and the Birmingham Palladium. Ed “Punch” Andrews managed all of those clubs.
Was it the idea of Ed “Punch” Andrews to record “Jesus Is Just Alright” in the attempt to create a hit single?
Well, while it was Punch’s idea to change our name from Tea to 1776, he was only part of the reason, somewhat, to record the song. It was a song we jammed on in the studio to warm up. Punch liked it and pushed for us to record it. Same goes for the cover of Dave Mason’s “Only You Know and I Know.” That was Punch’s idea to put it on the album, as well. “Jesus Is Just Alright” charted locally. Our version, by the way, was inspired by the earlier Byrds’ cover. Of course, a year later, the Doobie Brothers got a huge hit out of it. Jim Bruzzese and Greg Miller over at Pampa, who also worked on Arthur’s Phantom record, worked on the 1776 record.
And you went to Los Angeles after that.
Yes, I met up with Brian Naughton, a great guitarist, songwriter, and vocalist who did one album for MGM Records with his band, Rock Candy. When I met him, he had a new band, Rockits.
And you were managed by Warren Entner of the Grass Roots?
Yes. The connection was that Brian was in the Grass Roots during the ending of that band. Brian was also in the Peanut Butter Conspiracy, prior to. Warren also managed Brian’s Rock Candy. Rockicks was a name change from Rockits that our management came up with.
And you returned to Detroit after leaving RSO Records?
Well, not the right way. We cut a three-song demo that attracted the interest of MCA Records, but they wanted us to be the backing band for a solo artist on their roster, who I can’t recall, so we passed. After that Ed Houlehan, who, as you know, was in the Walpurgis project with Arthur in the early ’70s before the whole Phantom thing happened: he and I worked on some solo demos with Doug Ingle of Iron Butterfly. After that, I returned to Detroit.
Then you joined Pendragon. And Powerplay came after with Johnny Heaton of White Heat and Tantrum.
Yes. Pendragon was already up and running at the point. Arthur and Chris Marshall had already written several songs. Again, Chris and I were on guitars; Art was on bass at that time. Then there was Bob Ellis on keyboard and Jeff Johnson on drums. As I said, Ted Pearson and I go way back, to when we were teenagers and he has his band, Madrigal.
Back in September 2011, the Kwintels reunited for an appearance at Boomers Roadhouse in Detroit. The band was myself, along with Greg Ballard, Mike Roush, Bryan Barnes, and Bill Doral. Gary Gawinek sat in on guest vocals for a cover of “Gloria.” Again, Gary and Bill Doral served as the members of We Who Are, back when I was in the Kwintels. We all became Tea at one point. Since then, Johnny Heaton and I had various bands, such as Roxius, Catching Fire, Seize, and Rock Anthem that performed all over Michigan.
Interview, Part 2: Jerry Zubal Interview with Mike Dugo
When did your interest in music begin?
I believe that my interest in music was first inspired by listening to my grandfather play guitar and mandolin during our annual summer visits to his home in Linton, Indiana. My earliest memories of this were probably at the age of four or five in 1954–1955.
At the age of six or seven, the highlight of the week for me was watching The Adventures of Ozzie and Harriet, a late Fifties television sitcom that featured Ricky Nelson singing and playing guitar with his band. It was not Ricky, but James Burton, his lead guitarist, that captured my attention.
Are you self-taught or formally trained?
I started taking guitar lessons from Joyce Love, a month before I turned eight. She opened a music studio offering accordion, piano and guitar lessons in my home town of Rochester, Michigan. She taught a weekly private lesson and then would bring students of similar ability together for a weekly band practice that usually included a few guitarists, some accordionists and one piano player. To find new students, she made random calls using numbers from the local phone book. She called our house and my mother told her that her youngest son showed an interest in the guitar.
When did you form your first band and was the Qwintels the first?
At age twelve or so, I attempted to form a band. This went on for a year or so with friends from school making up the band members. This was interrupted by a call made to my guitar teacher by Jim Barnowski, manager of a band from a neighboring town, looking for a student that might be ready to play in a band. I replaced the rhythm player who injured his hand. We rehearsed a few times and, as near as I can remember, played one school dance before breaking up. The band was called the Royal Continentals. I proceeded to put my efforts back into forming a band which eventually became the Quintels. At some point, there were five members, hence the “Quin” in Quintels. This type of name was very typical for the early Sixties.
Who were the members of the band?
Early members [of the Quintels] included Tom Ward on guitar and Brian Pearsall on drums. Tom Faulkender replaced Tom Ward and brought his younger brother Tim on alto sax. Soon, Dan Bommer replaced Brian on drums. I contacted Jim [Barnowski] to see if he had any interest in managing another band. He came by for a listen and then proceeded to find jobs for us to play. For a short time, the band was called Jerry Z and the Quintels, but after adding Bob Hinshaw as our lead vocalist, the name was changed to Bobby and the Quintels.
Around this time, I remember Jim taking us all to a concert at Olympia stadium in Detroit. Somehow, Jim managed to get us backstage to meet and have photos taken with the Shangri-Las, Jay and the Americans and the Beach Boys. He used the photos to promote us. Unfortunately, those pictures have all disappeared. Jim probably has copies but we have lost track of him. They’d be great pictures to have.
So, Jim began booking the Quintels.
Jim kept us busy playing school dances and teen clubs that were plentiful in the area but the member changes were not done [with the band]. We had a job booked that Dan [Bommer] could not play because his parents had planned a vacation. Jim suggested we have Mike Roush, drummer for the Swing Kings, as a substitute; Mike soon became a member. Then a friend of mine from early elementary school, Bryan Barnes, that had moved away, returned to the area and had started playing guitar. We added him to the lineup and soon after, Tom and Tim [Faulkender], left.
When did Bob Hinshaw become the band’s lead vocalist?
[At that point] it was Bob Hinshaw on vocals, Mike Roush on drums and vocals, Bryan Barnes on guitar and vocals, and me on guitar and vocals, but we still had no bassist. Bryan had a friend at school, Greg Ballard, who was eager to learn the bass. Their plan was to have Bryan teach him some guitar and then get a bass and introduce him to the rest of us. It worked. Greg learned fast, bought a bass and an amplifier, and became the missing link.
We played just about every high school dance for miles around, as well as a slew of teen clubs and private parties. We were busy every weekend. From the beginning, Jim insisted we dress properly, act professionally and not bring our girlfriends to gigs. He would actually rent limousines so we would arrive at the gigs like stars, even at high school dances. In those days, that was very effective [marketing].
Then you got a gig opening for Paul Revere and the Raiders, as well backing Freddy Cannon.
Two gigs really stand out in my memory: Jim would promote small venue concerts from time to time. Both of these concerts took place at an old theater in Lake Orion. Once, he was able to get Paul Revere and the Raiders to headline, with us opening for them. They showed up with no equipment, so they had to use ours. We had no keyboard, so they just stuck a microphone in an old upright piano that happened to be there. The other concert featured Freddy Cannon. This time we had to learn several of his songs like, “Palisades Park” and “Transistor Sister.” We rehearsed with him for a few hours before the show and it went great.
What were some of the song’s the Quintels covered?
We played a lot of British material, along with the most popular American songs, including those by the Stones, the Beatles, the Animals, the Kingsmen, Paul Revere and the Raiders, Gerry and the Pacemakers, Standells, the Beach Boys, the Music Machine, Herman’s Hermits, the Kinks, the Zombies, the Dave Clark Five, the Hollies, the Young Rascals, and the Buckinghams — whatever was on the radio that we thought was cool. We were a darn good cover band and well-liked in our little world. We never really thought too much about original material, although I wish we would have. Bryan wrote a few songs that were pretty good but we never recorded them. We did record two covers that still exist on worn out acetate: “Because I Love Her,” a Human Beings’ cover, and “Little Latin Lupe Lu,” the Kingsmen’s arrangement.
About fifteen years ago, I ran into a guy who told me his parents had a video of Bobby and the Quintels. He loaned it to me so I could copy it. It was taped sometime around 1964 at a private party when we were all about 14 or 15 years old. Unfortunately it has no sound [so I never uploaded it to You Tube].
What were some of the clubs the Quintels booked?
During the early ’60s, southeastern Michigan had many opportunities for young musicians to play, dream and make a little money. Besides school dances, there was a plethora of teen cubs. Some of the ones we played included The Grosse Point Hideout, The Clawson Hideout, The Birmingham Teen Center, the two Crows Nests, Hullabaloo, the Platter Box, the Elizabeth Lake Beach Club, Mister Z’s, the Silverbell Hideout, Something Different, Shearwood Forest, Caseville Danceland, The Tawns House in Traverse City, Gaylord Teen Chalet, and many more that escape me.
There were other groups from Rochester. Some had members that were former guitar students of mine when I taught guitar for my first guitar teacher [Joyce Love] at her studio, and then later at Music City, a local music store. The groups I remember most were We Who Are and the Whereabouts [featuring keyboardist Marty Blair, who later worked as a keyboardist in Ted Pearson’s Madrigal, then as drummer in Pearson’s Walpurgis and its outgrowth, Phantom]. There were also the Hillsmen, Fundametal Building Blocks, Deadwood Stage, The Psycics and many more.
Jim Barnowski’s name occurs often in the history of Detroit bands, one that comes to mind is Tom Carson’s the Lazy Eggs.
Things were going pretty good until sometime, just before our sophomore year [in high school]. Jim, our manager, had taken on the management of more groups, the Bottles of Goodness and Panic and the Pack are the ones I remember. For reasons I can’t recall, the Quintels and Jim parted ways. That’s when we discovered that he had registered the band name and would not let us use it [any longer]. So, we simply changed the spelling to “Kwintels” and continued to exist as Bobby and the Kwintels — until Bob’s parents decided it was time to end their son’s rock ’n’ roll life and send him to military school. The Kwintels went on for three of our best years. We obtained new management that came more in the form of really good sound technology. Dick Espenshade and Dick Krusecamp built an extremely fine sound system for us — compared to what was available at the time. They also supplied us with a van with the band name painted on the side.
That’s when the Quintels appeared at Cobo Hall in a “Battle of the Bands” competition.
We did add a keyboard player, Frank Millard, just prior to competing in a teen fair battle of the bands at Cobo Hall in Detroit sponsored by Fender Guitars and, if I remember right, American Airlines. We performed Tommy James and the Shondells’ “I Think We’re Alone Now” and the Young Rascals’ “Mickey’s Monkey.” It came down to us and a group called the Buoys. It was close until the end, but they took us by one point on the final day.
We received a lot of respect by other musicians and fans and continued to play a lot of gigs until sometime during our senior year. We became regulars at the Silverbell Hideout, the Clawson Hideout, the Birmingham Palladium and others. These clubs were managed by Ed “Punch” Andrews or one of his partners. Punch was well known as Bob Seger’s manager and still is. Most recently, he managed Kid Rock.
Then, the Quintels parted ways.
I don’t really remember exactly what brought about the breakup, sometime in 1968, but Bryan Barnes, Mike Roush and I are still good friends and keep in touch. I know that Bryan still plays music in South Carolina and Mike plays in Kalamazoo, Michigan. We have lost touch with Bob Hinshaw, Greg Ballard, and Frank Millard, although it would be great to hear from them and organize a reunion jam [which eventually happened in September 2010 at Boomer’s Roadhouse in Waterford, Michigan].
When did Glenn Fry, later of the Eagles, enter the picture?
The last job the Kwintels played was at the Clawson Hideout. That night I was approached by a guy that I recognized as the bass player for another local band. This guy was Glenn Fry and his band at the time was called the Mushrooms. He had heard that my band was breaking up and was wondering if I would be interested in getting together with him since his band was also breaking up. We set up a time to meet at his house on Lincoln Street in Royal Oak for a rehearsal. I remember the rehearsal went pretty well and we set up a time for another.
When I showed up a couple weeks later, whoever answered the door told me Glenn had left for Phoenix. That was the end of that. Years later, I met Bob Wilson, who had played with Glenn in a band called the Subterraneans. Bob told me that the Kwintels were a band the he and Glenn enjoyed hearing. I’ve always considered that a great compliment.
Then you formed the heavier concern, Tea.
Soon, after the Kwintels broke up, Mike [Rouse] and I got together with Gary Gawinek, formerly the lead singer of We Who Are, and Phil Nye, a successful local folk singer and guitarist, and a bass player, Tom Wechsler [who became a noted, local Detroit rock photographer with many cover credits], to form Tea. [The lineup changed quickly, as] Bill Doral, former drummer of We Who Are, replaced Mike Roush on drums, Eg Mahan replaced Tom on bass, and we added Don Lucking on keyboards. The early line up of Tea was managed by Joe Aramini, the brother of the owner of Music City, the music store where I worked giving guitar lessons.
Did the band play originals during your opening gigs for Iron Butterfly, Steppenwolf, and the Strawberry Alarm Clock?
Tea played heavier rock covers and original songs. We opened for Iron Butterfly at the Grande Ball Room in Detroit, in addition to the regular circuit. This lineup also found an audience in Louisville, Kentucky, at a place called the Kaleidoscope. A year later, after Rick James, former lead singer of Panic and the Pack, replaced Gary, we returned to Louisville to play at a rock theater and the same weekend at the state fair ground auditorium opening for Steppenwolf and Strawberry Alarm Clock. This was the late ’60s to the early ’70s. I should mention that, at no time, can I remember any of these bands practicing in a garage. In Michigan, most houses had basements, which would make us “basement bands.”
Then, after working with Punch Andrews and Joe Aramini, you worked with another manager oft mentioned when discussing Detroit bands: Ann Marston.
The new line up of Tea played some very interesting gigs due to our new manager, Ann Marston, who worked as an agent for The Gail and Rice Talent Agency in Detroit. We played Lynn Ford’s debutant party with Bonnie and Delaney, and the Les Brown Orchestra at The Henry Ford Jr. mansion, and a convention for head librarians from all over the country that took place at Cobo Hall. There was a Canadian TV show hosted by Robin Seymour, a local deejay, called Swinging Time, which we appeared on.
Around this time, Bob Seger’s bass player, Dan Honaker, broke his arm and I fit the bill for someone who could learn a set’s worth of material in a hurry to sub for him. I tore up my fingers rehearsing and playing two shows: one in Kalamazoo at a college and one in Cleveland at a club called The Rock Shop. That night [at the Rock Shop] Bob asked me to switch instruments with him to do a blues jam. That evening, on the way home, he asked me if would consider becoming his guitarist. I accepted, but during the first rehearsal we bumped heads over a solo issue and I walked out. Soon after, Drew Abbot became his guitarist; I returned to Tea.
What were the circumstances of Tea transforming into 1776?
Rick [James] left Tea and Bryan Barnes, formerly with the Kwintels, joined as our new lead singer. Ann Marston’s sudden death left us stunned and with no management. Punch offered his services and suggested a name change. So we became 1776 and with the name came a record album released on Ed’s new label, Palladium Records. The LP contained two covers: The Byrds’ “Jesus is Just Alright” and Dave Mason’s “Only You Know and I Know,” which was to be the first single — but Bonnie and Delaney released [their version of] the Dave Mason song, first. [Instead], we released “Jesus is Just Alright” with an original of Bryan’s on the flip side as our first and only single. This record got airplay and charted in various regions of the country, including one of Detroit’s biggest stations, WKNR — although most will remember the Byrds’ version released before ours and a couple of years later , the Doobie Brothers had their hit.
Did 1776 tour or was a second album recorded?
1776 did one short tour, including an outdoor concert with Lynyrd Skynyrd on a beach in Ft. Lauderdale, Florida. Several groups were supposed to play, but it rained hard for a couple of days prior and they all left — except us and Skynyrd. We just traded off sets all day to a great crowd. We also opened for Lee Michaels once in Akron, Ohio.
Bryan and the band wrote another album’s worth of material, but it was never recorded because it was deemed not commercial enough by the powers that be. We soon broke up although we could have worked solid for the next two years on the strength of the single and LP according to our agent at DMA Booking. We were just too discouraged to continue.
What were your next bands?
I had been in contact with the former Kwintel drummer Mike Roush and, very soon, we put together a new group, Cain, with Mike Sneed and Dale Kath on guitar and bass [who later formed White Heat]. We were all singers, so we were able to do a variety of covers including Led Zeppelin, Moody Blues, Mountain, and Steely Dan songs. We played the Michigan bar circuit for about eight months solid. We didn’t last long but it was a great group to play with. Then I moved to California.
In addition to a brief run-in with Bob Seger, you also worked with Detroit’s Rare Earth?
Eg Mahan and Joe Aramini, [then] the road management for Rare Earth, offered me a position with the road crew for their next tour and I accepted. It was a chance to get out to California with a job that paid good with all expenses covered. Even though this only lasted about three months, I got to see a lot of the country and experience a lot of rock ’n’ roll. I also got a chance to jam with a bunch of great players, including Buddy Miles.
After the Rare Earth tour ended, I began to look for a band. I somehow got an audition with a guy named Domingo Samudio. I didn’t realize who he was until I met him. The short lived group was called Sam the Sham and Friends. We played a couple of jobs and then one at the famous Whisky [in Los Angeles]. I saw Joe Cocker sitting at the bar and Bette Midler standing right in front of the band while we played. After the show, Bernie Taupin [Elton John’s lyricist] and John Paul Jones [Led Zeppelin bassist] walked into the dressing room to say hello to Sam. I was star struck.
How did Rockicks come together?
Within a few months, I got together with Sammy Pate, a bass player from Georgia, and Bryan Naughton, an L.A. guitarist that already enjoyed some fame with the Grassroots [after a tenure with the Peanut Butter Conspiracy, and a one-album deal with MGM Records as Rock Candy]. This was the beginning of a group we called Rockit. We went through several drummers, including a weekend with Mike Roush, the Kwintels; drummer, before finding Rick Altschuler. We played around L.A. doing covers and working on originals for a couple years before knocking on doors. After a few refusals, we signed with The Toby Organization, a management company that had Angel, Legs Diamond and Quiet Riot in their stable.
And The Toby Organization got the band a deal with RSO Records?
We signed a recording deal with Robert Stigwood and released an album, but not until they changed our name to Rockicks. This was about 1976, smack dab in the middle of the disco era. We played some shows around town for about a year and were released from the label, along with a couple other groups, the same day [reviewing the label’s catalog: Player, Gene Clark, and Jack Bruce; by 1980, Detroit’s the Rockets were dropped by RSO, but signed a new deal with Elektra]. [Rockicks] continued to write and record on our own and attempted to get a new deal. One day at practice we just decided to throw in the towel.
Prior to Rockicks signing the RSO deal, we were the house band for quite a while at a club called The Rock Corporation. This club was one block off of Van Nuys Blvd. in the San Fernando Valley during the mid-Seventies. After we did the LP, we played a couple more times on weekends with new bands opening for us. There were several, one of which was a very young Van Halen. In fact, I think their manager at the time was Eddie and Alex’s mother. I don’t think they were called Van Halen yet, but it was definitely the original lineup. Rockicks did a pretty heavy version of the Kinks’ “You Really Got Me” that night. Funny how things work out.
Rockicks on the cover of their lone release on RSO Records, 1977. Left to Right: Jerry Zubal, Sammy Pate, Jr., Brian Naughton, and Rick Altschuler.
What were some of your, as well as the rest of Rockicks’, other projects?
To the best of my knowledge, Sammy is still playing and Brian has a group called the Naughtones that has gained some success. Unfortunately Rick Altschuler, “The Commander” as we called him, passed away a few years ago. He is surely missed by everyone that knew him. Rick was a solid drummer.
After Rockicks broke up, I got a call to do a session with Doug Ingle, former lead singer of Iron Butterfly. They needed a drummer, so I asked Ed Houlehan, a friend from my home town [formerly of Ted Pearson’s Walpurgis in 1970, later of Victor Peraino’s Kingdom Come in 1974/75 ], who had just moved to L.A., to come along.
Before leaving California to come back to Michigan in 1978, I worked pretty hard on a couple of original recording projects. I had met actress Terry Moore [Academy Award for Best Supporting Actress in 1952’s Come Back, Little Sheba] through a mutual friend and wrote music for several of her lyrics. She introduced me to Roger Christian [noted British film set decorator and designer] who also gave me lyrics to work with. The songs were recorded and earned me a publishing contract with Piccasso/Queens Legs Music, who also published Stephen Stills. Once again, nothing really came of it.
When I returned to Michigan, I got together with Ted Pearson, who was reforming his band called Pendragon [that started in 1976 in California with ex-members of Mitch Ryder’s touring band]. Ted had done one LP under the name, The Phantom, released on Capitol Records which, in everyone’s opinion, sounded suspiciously a lot like the Doors. The single, “Calm Before the Storm,” caused some panic over whether Jim Morrison was actually dead. Pendragon included drummer Jeff Johnson, guitarist Chris Marshall, keyboard player Bob Ellis and Ted on bass. You guessed it; we did a lot of Doors material.
Next was Powerplay, which included Jeff and Chris from Pendragon with John Heaton [of White Heat] on bass. Neither of these groups lasted much more than a year but both were worth the trip.
Then you go involved with the country-rock concern, Talley Creek?
After a brief sabbatical, I was lured by Tony Dean and Dyke Price into a country band that turned out to be a good experience — not to mention good money. Talley Creek’s original line up was Tony on bass, Gene Brezze on drums, Dyke on guitar, and me. Later, Chet Williams replaced Dyke and, for a short time, we added Al Flat as our front man. Talley Creek played the country circuit in Michigan that was fueled by the urban cowboy craze of the ’80s. We recorded one 45-rpm single. The song, “Cowboy In The Whitehouse,” was penned by Gary Gawinek, formerly of Tea and We Who Are. The flipside [to the single] was an uptempo, rockabilly version of Hank Williams’s “Hey Good Lookin’.” We managed to get it played on a couple Detroit radio stations until the powers that be deemed it too radical a political satire — although it did help to get us jobs and we sold a few copies.
Talley Creek gradually morphed into an oldies band, with the addition of Rick Stockwell [from the Coronados, Stonefront, and Coloradus] on guitar and piano, and Larry Terry and sax, flute and keys. Then we changed the name to the Wingtips. We landed a house band gig at The Highkicker Saloon in Pontiac, Michigan, that lasted a few years and included opening a monthly concert featuring big name country acts. Soon, the crowd was calling us the Fabulous Wingtips. Tony Dean left and Danny Crabtree became the new bass player. One evening, while in town doing a show with Fats Domino, Jerry Lee Lewis sat in. We did all of his hits in the same key and rocked the packed house. What a great memory that is!
About this time, I was beginning to get tired of the bar scene and needed a lifestyle change. I left the Wingtips. They continued with a couple more member changes and changed the name to the Thunderoad Band. Within a year or so, Rick Stockwell died of cancer, but not until the original Wingtips went into a studio and recorded a few songs with Rick on the piano.
And who was in the Austin Band, which featured Marlin Young of Kid Rock fame?
My music career was just about over when Dan Crabtree talked me into getting back on my horse to rock some more. We formed the Austin Band to play just weekends, but it soon turned into a little more than that. With Dan and I, Jim Lewis on drums, and Dale Peters on sax and bass, we worked for a year or so until, once again, I had had enough. Marlin Young replaced me and they continued with a few more member changes as the Austin Band. Recently, Marlin became a member of Kid Rock’s band.
And you’ve gone full circle with your own school and recording studio.
I am now a busy guitar teacher with about sixty students a week and have a recording studio: Green Room Productions. It’s where I enjoy working on various projects to keep my hands and mind busy.
I enjoy a lot of good memories: some I mentioned and some I’ll probably think of later. What I didn’t mention is that I have a son and a daughter from my first marriage, both born during my California days. They are the platinum records I never received. I am very proud of their accomplishments. So far, my son has made me a grandfather twice and my daughter and her husband are working on a family. Last but not least, I thank God for the woman to whom I am married to now. She has made life after rock ’n’ roll worth living.
END
A special thanks to the additional insights of Rockicks’ surviving members Jerry Zubal and Sammy Pate, Jr., along with the diligent Internet activities of close Naughton family friend, Scott Supak, and Corey Naughton for preserving the memory of Brian Naughton, in the composition of this career chronicle on Rockicks by R.D Francis.
All photos and various images provided by Jerry Zubal or collected from his social media platforms. Used with permission by the Zubal Family Archives.
R.D Francis is the writer of The Ghosts of Jim Morrison, the Phantom of Detroit, and the Fates of Rock ’n’ Roll and Tales from a Wizard: The Oral History of Walpurgis, available at all eRetailers for all eReaders. He also writes on music for Ugly Things Magazine.
Music Section:
Janne Stark, a very successful Swedish guitarist, probably best known for his early ’80s metal band, Overdrive, was a long time fan of Rockicks’ lone album. Today, he records under a couple different projects with Neil Merryweather, who you might remember from the Space Rangers that put out a couple of albums in the early ’70s; Neil’s also a fan! So, their label tracked me down on Facebook and offered a deal to reissue the album; I mentioned I had another album of unreleased material. I contacted Sammy Pate, who is still with us, as well as Rick and Brian’s families: all were on board with the project.
As far as RSO is concerned: they are, of course, long defunct, and their catalog is supposed to be under Universal [Music Group], which absored Polydor, which distributed RSO . . . but we doubted anyone there would care about a 40-year-old failed album. So, we just decided to go for it and worry about it, later.
Needless to say, those master tapes are long gone, if they exist at all. So, I went on eBay and found a sealed copy of ‘Inside’ — and we created a new, digital master from the vinyl. As for the rest of the unreleased material: you can’t toss a 40-year-old tape on a reel-to-reel, as you’ll tear up the tape. It was a lot of work, but we got those baked, you know, to adhere the oxides back to the clear polyester base.
As you can tell, the finished product — of which Sammy and I are extremely proud — sounds incredible: it’s as if they came off master tapes perserved in a record company vault all these years.
As a bonus, I got to play guitar on a remake of my old tune, “Sweet Wealth,” with Janne’s Mountain of Power supergroup project, which put out a few albums featuring covers of their favorite, obscure bands and songs. Neil Merryweather sings the lead vocals on that one; Neil’s also recording a cover of “Consideration,” the lead track from Rockicks’ album for one of his solo projects.
I’d have to add, my other lead vocal on the album, “Keep on Rockin’, which I wrote, as well, since we each, Sammy and Brian, would sing our own compositions, became the title of the reissue, which is pretty cool. It’s nice to have all the unreleased material out there; from the You Tube comments I’ve seen, everyone seems to enjoy “Reach for the Sky” the most, which is probably the most ‘metal’ thing we’d done at that point, as everything else was heavy blues.
— Jerry Zubal, on how Rockicks: Keep on Rockin’: A Restrospective Anthlogy, came to be.
