The Kevin Vicalvi Interview
Are you originally from Worcester, Massachusetts? What was growing up like for you and was music something that was relevant in your household during your more formative years? When did you first begin playing the guitar and writing songs?
Yes, I grew up there and lived there until about 1982 or so. Well, I grew up in the Golden Age - the 50s and early 60s. Before I go on, I always have to qualify it by saying I am Caucasian. For African-Americans, Asians, Hispanics and Native Americans it probably wasn't so idyllic. For me, it was a perfect time to be a kid born to a middle-class (remember the middle class?) family. We lived about a mile from Worcester's Main Street, which meant you could hop on a bus and go anywhere, but we basically lived at the end of a dirt road that was surrounded by depression-era houses and forests. That meant that I spent a lot of time with the neighborhood kids and our dogs swinging on vines like Tarzan, checking out the nearby swamp, going fishing, or swimming in the two ponds at the bottom of the hill on which we lived, cooking over a fire and camping overnight in the woods near our houses, taking our bikes to the nearby stores to buy baseball cards, candy and comic books, exploring the woods, stealing waste lumber from housing construction sites to build tree house, pilfering apples, pears and rhubarb from a neighbor's fruit trees and garden - a real Tom Sawyer/Beaver Cleaver existence. We walked to and from the public schools, which were well-funded, providing a solid basic education. It wasn't like today, where kids are controlled, regimented and hovered-over. We were basically free agents until the streetlights came on. The only servitude was having to go to school. My parents weren't musicians, but they were incredibly hip record buyers. I currently have the original Sun 45 of "Blue Suede Shoes" by Carl Perkins that was purchased by my parents.
Our house had singles and LPs by The Everly Brothers, Buddy Holly, Elvis, Connie Francis, The Chordettes, Johnny Cash, Bert Kaempfert, Nicola Paone, etc. So I was exposed to a lot of music even though no one actually played an instrument. And there was the diversity of music on AM radio back then. That's the most loaded question. You see, in the 50s and 60s, Worcester had an all-request AM radio station, WORC, and in those days you would hear George Jones followed by Chuck Berry followed by Johnny Mathis followed by Elvis followed by a goofy novelty record followed by Patsy Cline followed by Roy Orbison followed by The Tijuana Brass - so you were exposed to all kinds of music at once. I remember "Hound Dog", "Wake Up Little Susie", "Johnny B. Goode", "Hit The Road, Jack", "Sixteen Tons", "The Ballad of New Orleans" and "Peggy Sue" being the current hits being played on the radio. But back then, music seemed packaged, played by pros, so it never occurred to me that anyone that was not in "Show Business" could play music. It was only when The Beatles hit that the lights went on. Here were four guys that were a self-contained unit, not pre-packaged, playing their own instruments, singing and writing their own songs. That started me picking out tunes on an old beat-up guitar with a warped neck and two strings (that an uncle left at our house, I think).
You are a multi-instrumentalist. What inspired this diverse pursuit, and who were some of your influences early on? Did you go to many shows in your local community, and what groups/performances stood out to you the most during that time?
Actually, it became a necessity, because as the new rock bands evolved you had to keep up with them. If Paul McCartney was playing "Let It Be" on piano, you had to learn piano if you wanted to play that tune in your band. If there was a slide guitar om The Allman Bros’. "Statesboro Blues", you had to learn slide guitar. If George Harrison had a lap slide on "For You Blue" or "If Not For You", you had to learn the lap slide. If you wanted to do anything by The Byrds you had to get an electric 12-string. There were so many interesting colors in music back then, and I wanted to have them all. Greedy me. I loved Buddy Holly, Chuck Berry and, of course, early Elvis. I thought "Don't Be Cruel" was a killer single. The Everly Brothers were a favorite. Brenda Lee was an influence just because she was SO goddam good. But, of course, The Beatles were it. They ruined my life and I never got a chance to thank them. Like every kid back then, I wanted to BE one of The Beatles. They played the Ed Sullivan Show when I was 12 years old, so, needless to say, I was a goner. When I was a little kid, maybe about 9 or 10, I had a cool aunt that took me to a couple of concerts. I saw a road show tour of Grand Ole Opry artists at The Worcester Memorial Auditorium and I vaguely remember seeing Patsy Cline sing, although I could be wrong. Also, at the bottom of our hill there was a Baseball Field (Bennett Field) where WORC would have artists appear. I saw Neil Sedaka sing his hits to a pre-recorded backing track from about 6 feet away.
“I had always loved music, but until the Beatles hit, singing and songwriting was something someone else did. They showed me that it was a road I could go down. And I did. And I never looked back.”
The Memorial Auditorium and, later, Clark University's Atwood Hall were the two main places to see touring bands. I saw tons of artists, too numerous to mention them all, but the standouts were: Bob Dylan with The Band (before they were The Band) in '65 or '66, Simon & Garfunkel with just Paul Simon on guitar - no band, and, believe it or not: Herman's Hermits, who were a phenomenal sounding band back when it was really hard to sound good. The most influential artists were at Atwood Hall: a couple of friends and I sneaked backstage to watch Jimi Hendrix, who stood about 8 feet away from us and, when he discovered us there, joked with us between songs. As he left the stage, we jumped on him, slapping him on the back and shaking his hand, saying, "We've never heard ANYBODY play like that"! His answer: "Gee, thanks". Another life-changing show at Atwood hall was Procol Harum. I had not heard of "Whiter Shade of Pale", so I was unprepared for what was to happen to me. They were actually opening for The Chambers Brothers and as the curtain opened they started playing "Conquistador". I had to pick my jaw up off of the floor. They sounded amazing, and the songs killed me. Life Changer. Another one was seeing the unknown James Taylor open for Tom Rush at a local college gym - just before "Sweet Baby James" was released. I was a big Tom Rush fan, but when JT played his opening set, I was shown an entirely new way to play acoustic guitar. He combined a folk style with a classical guitar style and that night I was not the only one in the audience totally re-thinking how to play guitar. He was such a knockout that Clark University hired him to play the following night in the lobby of one of their dormitories, so I was able to sit close by while he played, studying his style. Even to this day, every acoustic player is influenced by JT.
When did you make your live debut playing music in front of an audience, and what was that experience like for you early on? Did you participate in any groups or outfits prior to recording your monumental debut album?
Well, now we're talking after high school in the 60s, so... There was a McDonald's around the corner from our school, so burgers and fries with real strawberry shortcake for dessert. Mickey D used to cut real potatoes for the fries and the shortcake was real strawberries and whipped cream. You could hop on a bus and go downtown to the main library or see a movie at about 6 different theaters. On Saturday we would go downtown for a guitar lesson with the hottest lead guitarist in town, Joe D'Angelo, with a stop for lunch afterward at Luigi's - cheap spaghetti and meatballs. My friends and I weren't into sports, so we didn't go to games or dances. In fact, by that time in my life I was in a band and playing so many dances that the LAST thing I wanted to do was go to a dance. Maybe I would go to check out other bands, but that was about it. A friend of mine got me an audition for a band he was in called The Jon Does (a name ripoff of the top band in town, Joe and Jimmy D'Angelo's "The Joneses"). I was 14. My only electric guitar was a cheap Kapa 12-string (trying to be Roger McGuinn), so I played "Mr. Tambourine Man" and "If I Needed Someone" and they let me join them. Back then you played 3 or 4 sets a night, so there were a lot of songs to learn - Top 40 hits with a lot of Motown, Stax, Beatles/Stones/Byrds... My first night, I played with my amp off when I made bad mistakes, but I was still scared shitless: a total introvert standing on stage in front of 200 kids! Exhilarating, actually. I couldn't believe I made it through the night. My harmonies were good, and I didn't forget too many cues on guitar. Back then there were no stage monitors, so you had to judge your vocal by the echo coming back at you from the gym walls. I was ready for more. Well, I started with Jon Does. Played with them all over Massachusetts for a couple of years. My friend was thrown out of the band, so my days were numbered. Soon after, I was let go. Another friend of mine got me into The Sleepy Time Blues Band (all blues) and, after a while, the paranoid leader and lead guitarist quit. The rest of us wanted to add more underground stuff to our set list, so we shortened the name to Sleepy Time and replaced the lead guitarist with a Hammond organist. I became lead guitar by default, which I was not prepared for. I soon started upping my game, learning as much as I could, as fast as I could.
How did you initially meet some of the fine folks that played on your record, and can you tell me about writing as well as recording “Songs From Down The Hall” and what those particular sessions were like for you and the band?
Sleepy Time played a guest set at a coffee house run by a Protestant Pastor. They had a house band that included Mitch Chakour, a great musician. I was always a Mitch fan. Google him. Anyway, Denis and Dave Rice were in that band, too. When Sleepy Time's bass player left to form his own band, I asked Denis if he would like to join Sleepy Time, and he jumped at the chance. I don't really remember how Dave Rice got in, but I think we asked him to join after going through 2 or 3 other drummers. Dave Rice fit in well because he had good chops and didn't play too loud - more of a jazz drummer that could play rock. Well, Sleepy Time kind of imploded after a year or two with Denis and Dave, which was kind of my fault. I was going through some personal crap and when the rhythm guitarist didn't feel like showing up for rehearsal one day, I told him don't bother coming at all - ever. Dave was moving on, too, probably going to college. So Denis and I cobbled up a supergroup with Mitch Chakour and a great lead guitarist who shall remain nameless. We also had a ballbuster of a drummer who was a little wild but, hey, rock n' roll. It was the best sounding band I was ever in, but the lead guitarist was so crazy that the week before our debut gig he went missing. It was a Sunday afternoon gig, and back then all the stores were closed. So the day of the gig, just before we were supposed to go on, the lead guitarist showed up - with no strings on his guitar. He's asking if anybody has a set of strings. No, we don't and the music stores are closed. I was so angry that, although we did end up playing the gig, the band literally broke up on stage during the set, right in front of my mentor, Joe D'Angelo. I told the band that was it. I was done. Denis and I formed a duo and, since I was beginning to write songs, we have played my songs and cover songs as a folk duo. There weren't many gigs for an acoustic duo, so I joined a local band, Dark Horse. I kept making at-home demo tapes of my songs with Denis during this time and an acquaintance, Dwight Glodell, mentioned that he was starting a recording studio. With a bunch of songs that couldn't be played in Dark Horse (the Worcester scene was strictly a dance club cover band), I needed a way to get my songs out into the world. The major label record companies were sending me rejection letters as fast as I could send demo tapes out, so I decided to record with Dwight, press my own LP and sell it myself.
What was the overall vision for the album, and what did you ultimately want to express and achieve with the material? When and where did recording exactly begin in ‘74, and how did you initially meet Dorrie Powers, Tim Costa, Robin Blakeman and the Odgren Bros.?
It was basically a way to present my songs and promote Denis and I as artists. As far as expressing myself, these tunes were addressing some personal stuff and describing the climate in the United States at that time, most obviously in "Letter To My Big Brother". This was in the wake of Watergate, so there was a LOT of political crap going on. I felt like people were selling out their own freedom and standard of living for an illusory feeling of security. People were abandoning the rights and dignity my parents and grandparents had fought for because they didn't want to wait in line for gasoline! Actually, I'm heartened by the fact that the song has been used in a movie and a TV show (licensed by Numero Group). This has resulted in a LOT more streams of the song, so now it has taken its rightful place alongside "Lover Now Alone" and "Old Richard" as far as the audience goes. I always believed that "Big Brother" was a perfect song; I just wish we had done a better job recording it. It actually might have started in 1973. I'm not sure. So much was going on in my life back then, it's like a blur. I was doing a crushing gig schedule with Dark Horse, doing demos with Denis and getting nibbles but no deals from labels, etc. Dwight started recording the project in Starizon Studio, his tiny 3-room office suite above Union Music, where he worked. Denis, Dave and I laid the basic tracks down on an Ampeg 4-track recorder, and then I added overdubs and vocals with Denis and Dorrie.
We mixed the songs at Starizon and I think the pressing plant did whatever mastering was required. The album died right after it was released. Dorrie was my girlfriend, so I don't really need to say anymore about that. She was an effortless singer with a distinct sound. I purposely put her solo voice on as an intro to "Need You Much More" (bonus track on my second CD, "Songs From 63 Main St.”) to show the world what a unique voice she had. After the album was released, Dwight offered to manage me as an artist and I agreed. I had nothing else going on and Dwight had had some close calls with the New York scene, so I figured, why not? We needed to put a band together, so that's how I met Tim Costa and Robin Blakeman. Tim is a great guy and I loved his sound. He played a Gretch kit, and it sounded powerful but not overwhelming. Plus, we got along really well and he's become a lifelong friend. Robin auditioned because Dwight wanted to add sax - EVERYBODY had sax solos back then. I wasn't a fan of sax solos, but I agreed for commercial reasons. Think "Year Of The Cat" and "Baker Street". Robin was British and quite a rogue, especially with the ladies. Everybody loved him. The Odgren brothers were brought in as studio session players for "Songs From 63 Main St." (available on Ebay) - Bobby Odgren was hired because my "songwriter piano" chops weren't good enough for a couple of my tunes - I needed a real pianist. Jim was hired to flesh out ensembles with Robin and, I can say this, now that Robin has passed on, Jim was a better sax player.
How did the deal with Starizon come about, and what was the first move once the record was finished and out in the world? Did you tour, or play any gigs to help promote it? What direction did your life take after ‘74? Because it would be quite some time till another release was made. Were you still continuing to write, or were you pursuing a completely different path during this period?
Starizon was an ad hoc label that Dwight used for the release because there was no record company. Dwight had Starizon/Immedia as a company: Starizon for recording and Immedia for live sound. I don't think anything ever became of the Immedia side. Well, Dwight wasn't much of a manager. We did a benefit gig with a band called Maze and Duke & the Drivers. No audience reaction. I rehearsed the band in preparation for record label showcases that never materialized. Dwight kept on recording us at Starizon because I was writing a ton of new songs. We did 5 or 6 new tunes at Starizon before it went belly-up (details in the liner notes for the "Songs From 63 Main St." CD - available on Ebay). Then we moved to Northern Studio in Maynard, Massachusetts and continued recording what is now "Songs From 63 Main St." Well, I was basically recording at Northern Studio, but nothing came of the demos. No record labels were interested, and I wasn't interested in pressing another dead-horse LP. The mixes just sat in a box, slowly deteriorating. Dwight flew the coop. He left Massachusetts to marry a girl he met from Rochester, New York, so I was without management (such as it was).
“This was in the wake of Watergate, so there was a LOT of political crap going on. I felt like people were selling out their own freedom and standard of living for an illusory feeling of security.”
I kept on writing and recording demos, shopping them to whoever would listen. Then, in 1978, Dwight called me out of the blue and said he was working with Mick Guzauski, a recording engineer who had just had a hit with Chuck Mangione's "Feels So Good". They were looking for someone to record and Dwight brought up my name. Long story short, I ended up recording a 3 song demo with Dwight and Mick in Rochester. The demos got us a showcase with Atlantic Records, but the A&R guy they sent to check us out seemed to be totally not into being there. I think he was only interested in getting drunk and getting laid. Needless to say, no record deal. Dwight still thought he could do something with me, so this started a long odyssey of recording in Rochester, forming a band called Claylinks with Ethan Porter that came very close to signing a deal with Atlantic Records, A&M Records and the whole music industry merry-go-round. Then it morphed into The Obvious, and was signed by Amherst Records in the mid 80s with the intention of selling the group to EMI America. That deal went bust. Ethan and I started playing with Bat McGrath, which resulted in my moving to Nashville, where I collaborated and backed up many different songwriters and singers, most notably Wood Newton, Chalee Tennison, Jen Cohen, Casey Kelly, Rachelle Laisnez and Andy West. During this time, the digital audio revolution happened, and I saw an opportunity to revive the Northern Studio demos and release them on CD. That's how "Songs From 63 Main St." came to be.
Tell me about writing and recording this record. It had been nearly 40 plus years since you had released any body of work. What was most exciting getting back to it after all that time?
I now had a 16 track pro studio (Northern Recording) to work in after "Songs From Down The Hall" was released, so I recorded everything I possibly could. Even though nothing came of all of that work, I had 21 recordings (some of which were basic unfinished demos) of post "Songs From Down The Hall" songs. As the years went by, the album acquired an audience all over the world and people started to ask me if there was more music. After releasing the album on CD in 2000, I began to load the songs from the Northern sessions onto my personal computer in the year 2001. It was a time-consuming, laborious process to clean up so many deteriorated tracks and life started getting in the way. Years later my friend and audio partner-in-crime, Phil Adams, was describing a new digital audio program that he was using. This was a light bulb over the head moment. With this new program called Melodyne, all kinds of restoration could be done in a fraction of the time it would have taken me in 2001. I arranged to take a couple of weeks and work with him restoring the rest of the tunes I had started to work on in 2001. After getting the tracks restored, we took the project to my friend, Bob St. John and had him mix the project. Actually, the hardest part was working out the song playing order. With 21 songs, it was hard to get a smoothly flowing album while at the same time placing certain songs where I felt they needed to be. You know, I always regarded the album as a failure. There were only one or two songs that sounded the way I wanted them to sound. The rest sounded out-of-tune or badly played or both. I thought my voice sounded like a chipmunk. My lack of experience was hanging out for everyone to see. Remember: I was gunning for the big boys. I saw my competition as James Taylor, The Beatles, Procol Harum. I fell way short of my goal artistically; commercially, it was dead out of the chute. So there was a twofold purpose to releasing “Songs From 63 Main St.” First: to leave something besides “Songs From Down The Hall” behind, so that if I got run over by a bus there would be more than just that album out there representing me. Second: to leave a good set of mixes of these Northern tunes that the band could be proud of, so that Denis and Dorrie and Tim and Robin could say, "Listen to this. I did THIS".
Tell me about starting up Left Records as well as what you’ve been up to in recent years. Is there anything else you would like to share further with the readers?
Left Records is my own label. Tudor Hill Publishing is my own publishing company. Well, I'm spending most of my time going deaf. I don't play in public anymore because my hearing has deteriorated to the point where I don't hear the fundamentals properly, which means sometimes I can't tell what key a song is in, which means I don't trust my ears anymore, even with hearing aids. I can't trust myself to sing in tune, so I just play at home for my own enjoyment. I'm 70 years old in this year of 2022, so I've pretty much done what I set out to do, except for the world-wide success part. When I was 14 years old, I wanted to be an old guy with a beat-up guitar case - and now I am one. I've played music since I was a puppy, so I don't feel cheated. I've written and played and listened to tons and tons of music. I've been lucky to play with people whose company I enjoy and whose talent I envy. I've met thousands of people over the years, some famous and some infamous. I wouldn't change a thing, except for the no world-wide success part. No matter what your dream is, go for it. Be kind to other humans. Be kind to animals: they are at our mercy, at least most of them are. Lions and Tigers and Bears, not so much. Buy “Songs From Down The Hall” and "Songs From 63 Main St." on CD. Both CDs are available on Ebay...
