Getting Persuaded
sfgate.com:80/cgi-bin/article.cgi?file=/chronicle/archive/2000/06/13/DD40355.DTL
by Jon Carroll
TRY TO FORGET everything you
know or think you know about the
Grateful Dead. Forget deadheads, tie
dye, drug overdoses, the scene in the
parking lot, which version of ``Dark
Star'' is best, the alarming mortality
of keyboard players, lawsuits
involving ex-wives -- banish all of it
from your mind.
Remember only this: The Grateful
Dead have 30 years of songs
available to be recorded by other
people. Hunter-Garcia produced as
many tunes as Lennon- McCartney,
and Robert Hunter's allusive and
elusive lyrics combined with Jerry
Garcia's sly music, at once
mysterious and accessible, represent a
musical trove of almost unlimited
potential.
Here's why: Suppose, not to put too
fine a point on it, that Grateful Dead
songs could be recorded by people
who could actually sing. Suppose, for
instance, they could be recorded by
the greatest a cappella group in the
history of America.
The Persuasions started 35 years ago
singing on street corners in Brooklyn.
They were not a doo-wop group,
although they could sing doo-wop if
necessary; they were not anything but
themselves. By the early '70s, they
had a following and several popular
albums (``We Came to Play,'' ``Street
Corner Symphony''). They got great
reviews; they always get great
reviews.
They opened for Joni Mitchell; they
recorded with Stevie Wonder. They
toured Europe and Japan. They had
famous fans and prestigious concert
venues, and if they didn't see any of
the money from the albums they sold,
well, that was the way the game was
played.
Then things slowed down. One of the
original members, Toubo Rhoad,
died suddenly. Record sales went
down. Tastes changed. The road took
its toll on everybody. They were still
the Persuasions, though, and they
tried not to be bothered when people
said, ``I didn't know you guys were
still alive.''
THEIR FRIENDS HELPED them
through the hardest times. One friend
was an L.A.-based writer named Rip
Rense. He heard the horror stories --
the three-day bus rides, the bad
contracts, the publicists who didn't
publicize. He became the point man
for the comeback of the group that
never went away.
It took a while. In the past year,
though, there's been ``The Good Ship
Lollipop,'' a children's album still
selling well, and ``Frankly A
Cappella,'' a jaw-dropping collection
of Frank Zappa songs, including
``The Meek Shall Inherit Nothing,''
which has become a music-business
strategy as well as a show-stopping
tune.
Rip Rense knew David Gans, the host
of ``The Grateful Dead Radio Hour.''
Rense proposed his zany idea -- if
Zappa, why not the Dead? -- and
Gans took it to the Grateful Dead
people, and one thing led to another,
and on May 29 at Mike Cogan's Bay
Records Recording Studio on
Alcatraz in Berkeley, Rense and Gans
started this lovely lunatic project, five
middle-aged black men redefining
white hippie music. Yow.
DAVID GANS HAS been a friend of
mine for more than a decade; I have
been a Persuasions fan for three
decades. Gans asked me to drop by; I
came for an hour and ended up
staying until closing time day after
day, rearranging my schedule,
blowing off appointments, staying
close to the alchemy. New chills
every day.
Info you'll need for the next column:
The current Persuasions are Jerry
Lawson, lead vocals, arrangements,
leadership and mind games; Jimmy
Hayes, bass vocals and the ribbon that
holds the package together; Sweet Joe
Russell, tenor, gospel madman,
occasional lead singer and designated
charmer; Jayotis Washington,
baritone, hand signals and also
occasional lead singer; and the only
non-original Persuasion, Raymond
Sanders, tenor, singer of impossible
high notes and former undercover
narcotics agent for the NYPD.
Really. Would I lie?
Tomorrow: In the studio. |
