AS I WAS DRIVING the Ghia to LACC from Oakhurst in Beverly
Hills down to Melrose and Vermont, I kept thinking about that band in Joey's
back house and how much I wanted to play and record my own songs. Later that
day, I had played the guys an original called Getting Through to You, a bouncy
little McCartneyesque ditty. Stephen, still hanging out with the band, would
call me a few weeks later saying they were recording at Cadet Recorders, and
Kent Records (an affiliate label) was interested in signing us. Stephen
strongly suggested I come down after school and, if we played our cards right,
we could cut the afore-mentioned tune.
Cadet Records was in one of the worst parts of town you could imagine; down on
Slauson and Normandie just past the railroad tracks. I never knew if my car
would still be there when I got out of the session, but it, as fate would have
it, the car, which my sister, Susan, had loaned to me while she was studying
abroad, remained intact. If anyone saw me, they would wonder what this Beverly
Hills Jewish kid was doing wandering around in the ghetto with a guitar case in
his hand.
The band consisted of Stephen, his older brother Peter
Gries on bass, Jon Marr (vocals, guitar), Joey Hamilton (vocals), Louis
(pronounced Louie) Jourdan Jr. (guitar vocals) and Bob Ziegler (keyboard).
First Bob left to pursue his dream of classical music and I am proud to say he did
quite well for himself in that area. I always liked his song called The
Invisible Blues with the memorable line “I got the blues 'cause I can't see
my shoes - I'm invisible.” There was a drummer, but I don’t think it was Ric
Green. He would join the band to be known later as Silverspoon later, but he
was still in high school with Joey's brother, Jeff Hamilton graduating in 1972.
I was reminded during the writing of this by none other than Stephen Adamick
Gries, the drummer's name was Tom Downs. He was solid, as I recall.
Things were not as favorable for Louie. He had a hard time
being the son of a famous movie star and one day, after too many illegal
substances, he just wasn't the same. Stephen recalls that they were neighbors
growing up on Alpine, and he used to sit outside on his front lawn waiting for
Bonnie Goodman to walk by. Bonnie was gorgeous with long, dark, shiny hair who
walked like a fashion model. She had an older sister that looked just like her,
but with a little more meat on the bone. While waiting for the Goodman girls to
stroll by, he saw Louie staggering down the sidewalk with a five-day growth of
beard, a ripped-up shirt with the long shirttails hanging out—a total wreck.
Despite this, Stephen had invited him in.
In the kitchen, Stephen was making a couple of bologna
sandwiches with mustard for Louie and himself while talking about their mutual
interest in guitar. It was Annie May’s day off, and Stephen, left to his own
clumsy devices, was making a mess when his mother Mary stormed in. Startled, he
dropped the sandwich, mustard side down on the clean blue and white tiles. It
goes without saying that Mary didn't care much for the slop on her clean floor,
nor Louie either. After cleaning up the disaster they walked half a block to
the house of Jourdan where Louie suggested a jam session. Louie was struggling
with a classical piece on the nylon string guitar. It was a complex composition
by Bach and Stephen thought it was amazing just to try something that would
take him months to learn. He kept going over the same section and not getting
it when in through the door walked Mr. Jourdan, the famous movie star, dressed
in a silk smoking jacket smoking a cigarette inside a long blacker holder. “What
is the problem?” his father demanded, “you know the piece. You can conquer this.
You are a Jourdan!” Louie tried again but failed. Then his father grabbed a
ruler from the dresser and slapped his hand hard, then turned his head to face
Stephen. “Who is this boy?” Stephen, looking slightly askew at the movie star trying
to hide his shock said, “I am Steve Gries from down the street.” Mr. Jourdan
looked at him suspiciously. “Yes, Greese, I like your mother Mary, but I don't
like Tom.” Stephen was appalled. Now they had to creep out of Louie’s house and
then sneak back to Alpine back house, a refuge from all the craziness in the
main abode. But this arrangement didn't last long. Stephen was kicked out of
his house right after graduation and moved to a funky hotel on San Vincente and
La Cienega near one of the original Fatburgers.
Louie
had a song called I Watch That Fly about a person (in a strait
jacket) watching a fly drawing lazy circles in the sky, his eyes have nothing
else to do but follow. It makes me dizzy just thinking about it. The once vital
and good-looking athlete from Beverly Hills High School was now just a shell of
the person he used to be. He phased himself out of the band and it was just the
six of us now. I heard later that he had sadly ended his own life prematurely
in 1981. What a waste!
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