Subject: Too Many Teardrops
From: Jim.Rees@umich.edu
Date: Sun, 23 Oct 94 17:51:29 EDT

What American who was alive in 1966 isn't familiar with the organ riff from
96 Tears?  Even more so than Green Onions, this is probably the most famous
cheesy organ line in Rock'n'Roll history.

So it was with great anticipation that I headed down to Rick's last night to
catch ? and the Mysterians, in what was only their third gig since they
broke up in 1969.

I was not disappointed.  This was a true Farfisa fest.  Opening act was
Fortune and Maltese, a local band headed by the son of Paul Revere of Paul
Revere and the Raiders.  They wear his dad's famous uniforms, the
three-cornered hats, jack boots and gold double-breasted suits, and play
thrashy covers of old Raiders tunes as well as original material.

Next Wendy Case's band Ten High took the stage.  Downing shots of tequila
between tunes, they played Wendy's songs "Gimme One" and "I Wanna Satisfy
You."  As Kim Fowley says, "these tunes are ideal for dancing in the
cornfield, challenging bad science and grunting down in Dogtown."

But I've seen all these guys before.  So the highlight for me was when the
Mysterians took the stage.  Wearing all black, with big orange question
marks on their black T-shirts, these guys were clearly having a great time.
The bass player had an ear-to-ear grin on his face.  The drummer had big
question marks tattooed on each bicep, and in proper Spanish style, the one
on his right arm was inverted.  The organ player was bent double over his
red and black Farfisa Compact, long hair completely obscuring his face.

When ? ran up on the stage, to chants of "Rudy! Rudy!" by admiring fans, it
was clear this was going to be a high-energy show.  In his pointy-toed black
boots, skin-tight gray satin pants, matching open-chest vest, wraparound
shades, and middle-of-the-back black hair, sweatin' and struttin' about, he
looked like the hispanic Iggy.  They played a few of their "hits" from the
'60s, some covers, including "Satisfaction," and some original material.

I was expecting the place to be packed, but it was only about half full.
I'm as big a Rolling Stones fan as the next guy, but I find it utterly
incomprehensible that people will drive an hour to get to some horrible
suburban athletic stadium and pay $50 to see Mick Jagger, who isn't even
from Michigan, strut about, but they won't walk across town and pay $6 to
see Question Mark.

When it got to be 1:50 and they hadn't played the tune everyone was there to
hear, I started to worry that it would be a two-minute, "we gotta get this
outta the way" version.  Happily, that was not the case, and if anything
they overdid it.  If you've ever been 16 years old and sat next to a
portable three-speed (16, 33, 45) phonograph cranked to 11 listening to "96
Tears" over and over, you can imagine my thrill when they launched into this
tune.  It was about a 15 minute version, including several "one more time"
false endings, and had the audience in an uproar.

After the show there was a party at Wendy's house.  I chatted with Bobby,
the guitar player, about music and life.  He had lived in Austin for a
while, playing with Joe King, then moved back to Saginaw where he's from.
We went upstairs and watched old video tape of ?'s appearance on the Dick
Clark show, all of them looking very young and tough.

I also took the opportunity to question Question Mark about his mysterious
name.  When they were starting out, they played the Saginaw -- Bay City
area.  One night they played a show in Adrian, near the Ohio border, where
no one knew them.  They were calling themselves XYZ at the time, and ? told
the band they should tell no one their names, so the girls in the audience
would be intrigued.  By the end of the second set, the girls had managed to
find out everyone's name except ?'s.  From then on he called himself ?, and
even had his name legally changed.

? also wanted me to know that he'd been wearing his hair long since 1962,
"long before the Beatles."  He actually cut it short when they hit big.

Talking a mile a minute, he also described how he'd written 96 Tears.  He
claims it was the first song he ever wrote, and that he was 12 at the time.
He came from a poor family with ten children, but his parents wanted to
encourage his musical talent, and offered to buy him a piano or whatever he
wanted for music.  He opted for a $300 reel-to-reel tape recorder so he
could sing.  He was obsessed about this one song he'd written, recorded it,
and tried to learn to play it on piano.  His parents sent him to a piano
teacher in the rich part of town (he won't say which town), but the teacher
just wanted him to start with "Mary Had a Little Lamb," and ? didn't have
the patience for it.

Years later, when he was 16 and forgotten about the song, his band XYZ was
trying to write some original material, essential if you want to make it
big.  The organ player was noodling around and came up with the opening line
from 96 Tears.  ? said it was no good, he'd heard it before so it wasn't
original.  The organ player insisted no one else had played it, and ?
couldn't remember where he'd heard it.  Finally it dawned on him that this
was the line from the song he'd written when he was 12 and recorded on his
tape recorder (wonder where that tape is now?).  Then he started singing,
the words came out, and "the rest is history."  It seems unlikely, but
that's how he described it, and it does make a good story.

I finally rolled into bed about 4 am, tired but happy.