All kinda rock
John Felice remains devoted to rock and roll
by Joe Longone
Boston should be ashamed of itself for snubbing one of its greatest
songwriters, John Felice. Presently the leader of a band called the Devotions,
he has been ignored by a local press too concerned with promoting the latest
trends, rejected by the more popular ock clubs, and, overall, banished from a
scene he helped create.
Those who usually follow pop music have short memories. Today's rock hero is
destined to become tomorrow's undesirable has-been, and it's tough for any
artist to have a career when dealing with a recording industry hell-bent on
supplying a litany of cheap, disposable products meant to sucker money from
teens and young adults. Yes, he is probably out of step with the current crop
of recording artists. His pretty melodies are out of place in the clamor of
noisy rhythms that are perpetrated on the FM dial. His inspired poetry is lost
in an age riddled with riddles and pretentious angst. His romantic optimism
probably looks foolish to a generation of kids that has been force-fed a diet
of cynicism.
"It's just like 1976 again," says Felice. "Back then there was no place for an
original rock-and-roll band to play music. We had to convince small bars like
Cantones to let us play. Today's Boston rock-and-roll bands are starting out
the same way -- playing in small places like the Kirkland Cafe, the Linwood
Grille, and O'Briens."
He knows what he is talking about, back in the mid '70s when Boston was the
home to arena acts such as Aerosmith and J. Geils, and supported a vital folk
and jazz scene, there was no place for new rock bands to play. Felice with his
band the Real Kids, along with DMZ and Willie "Loco" Alexander and his Boom
Boom Band, forged their way into over a dozen new clubs and paved the way for
the thousands of rock bands who would follow. By the early '80s, Boston was
considered a mecca of independent music. How this recent history has escaped
the thoughts of Beantown's current crop of scenesters amazes me.
It amazes Felice, too. "In the late '70s, and throughout most of the '80s,
there was a sense of community with most of the bands from Boston. This town
was known all around the world for a sound that represented the working-class
hero. I'm sorry to say that nothing of those times remains today. Boston is
presently lost in a loop of endless trend-seekers. If dog shit was the next big
thing, I'd bet you anything that we could walk into any club and find some
idiot with turds on his head."
Felice's talent has always transcended changing styles and fashions. From his
first neighborhood garage band, who featured Jonathan Richman (Modern Lovers),
Paul Murphy, and Rick Coraccio (DMZ/Lyres), to his legendary grouping of Howie
Ferguson, Alpo, and Billy Borgioli who became the Real Kids, to his current
supporting players Bruce Hamel (bass), Dave Hutton (guitar), and Rick Lemont
(drums), Felice has always been a compelling and impassioned bandleader.
As a songwriter, he has very few equals. Many of his Real Kids classics,
including "All Kinda Girls," "Better Be Good," and "My Baby's Book," are on a
par with anything Chuck Berry or Brian Wilson have written. And as far as any
comparison with other Boston rock songwriters, only Barry Tashian and Jeff
Conolly can be compared in the same breath for emotional depth, clear
narrative, and a spiritual sense of their surroundings.
Felice is partially responsible for the uphill battle that presently faces
him. In the late '80s, and into the early '90s, he was hobbled by severe
substance abuse. Shows with his band the Lowdowns, and a brief reunion of the
Real Kids, were marred because Felice was unable to even play his own music.
Those days are hopefully past him. "I think my work with the Devotions in the
last few years has been my best stuff ever. I think the Devotions are better
than the Real Kids. In about half of the Real Kids shows we were stoned out of
our heads. I am at my best right now," he says.
You can catch John Felice and the Devotions with the Time Beings at Ralph's
next Friday, May 9.
Fuzbrains
Worcester's most ambitious fanzine from the '80s, Fuzbrains, is
back for another run. The times have changed since I edited the reader/writer
magazine, which ceased publication in 1988. The 'zine, which once heralded all
that is rock and roll, will now be headed by Deb Beaudry. The legendary Captain
PJ and musician Rick Blaze are featured columnists for the summer 1997 issue
now available at Al Bums. Those interested in joining the new staff, submitting
material, or subscribing can write to Fuzbrains c/o Beaudry, 186 Russell
St., Worcester 01609.