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Joe Miglionico
- Bass It seemed Bart had just designed and constructed his own version of a light board and was looking for a band to do lights for. He had a guy named Dave Martel with him. A bass player. A bass player with long hair who owned a real Fender bass. A bass player who let me play his real Fender bass for a few minutes (at the time I was playing a nameless ¾ sized fender bass copy that I paid $60.00 for) |
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To hold said bass for even a few minutes
was like trading a cap gun for an M-16.
Anyway, after listening to my “band” play our usual unending jam on Iron Man or Free Bird or some other interminable schlock (this particular band was never able to find a singer, and so would jam on the same 5 songs for 45 minutes apiece, or so it seemed) Bart and Dave left. I didn't think much of
it at the time, but that meeting turned out to be one of the few really
pivotal moments in my life. It would result in my most successful stint
as a musician (unless
you count my presence on The Commandoes “Stay Out Tonight” record and
it's subsequent ascent into apparent cult hit status, though I suspect
my part on that record would not even be acknowledged by the other
members of that group).
It would also create the longest creative partnership in my life and
friendships which have never dissolved in the years since. I would
love to be able to say it also gave me many great memories, but a lot
of what happened in those days has blurred with time. As with most
things, I suppose I felt it would never end and so never really took
note of what an amazing thing I was part of at the time.
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The aforementioned jam band had
just split up when one night I got a phone call. It was from someone
named Jon
Miles, who
said he knew Bart McCracken and asked me if I wanted to be in a
southern rock band. I replied that I wasn't really interested,
since at that time I didn't like southern rock. "That's ok," I
was told, "we'll be doing all kinds of other stuff too"... Being
15 and unable to drive, Jon offered to ferry my crappy amp and
I to my “audition”.
The first meeting... In the barn behind Jon's
house. Very small and cramped. Bart was there, this time playing drums. Bart would end up becoming something of a mentor, or at least a kind of roll model to me, though I doubt he was aware of it. He was a great drummer and exuded a sort of maniacal cool that I tried to emulate for a while. More importantly, he could keep time. As a bass player, to be playing with a drummer who was able to lay a real groove was a revelation. There was Lance Vardis, who drove a really ugly pale green car and played a really odd looking guitar and who was very funny when he talked slowly enough for me to understand what he was saying. |
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Jon with this bizarre looking little keyboard thing that ironically enough, sounded amazingly like a bizarre little keyboard thing and Mike Ladd, who seemed to have an aversion to wearing shoes, or maybe a fetish for only wearing socks and looked capable of springing into a homicidal rage at any moment. I don't remember Jen Jackson being there the first night, but she may have been. There were a lot of other people hanging around, which made me feel awkward as the newcomer to the room.
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I seem to recall that Sweet Home Alabama was the first song we did. I had of course heard it, but didn't know it. I was able to fake my way along, as I did with pretty much everything we played that night. My first thought was that it was a great thing to be in a band with a singer again, but what struck me most forcefully was when it came time for the guitar lead and Mike played it. Up
to that time, I had never been in a band with a guitarist who could
actually play leads. They would jump around and attempt to improvise,
but not really play them, being more interested in “looking” like
a Guitar God than being one. |
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At least it seemed that way, though if I remember correctly, I just got a stupid grin on my face which may have lasted for a couple of days afterward. The nature of that success would not be exactly what I hoped for in my rock star fantasy life. For the first time in the 5 years since had starting playing, I was in a real band. |
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The Jen Era I remember Chimera in 4 different stages, depending
on who was the lead singer at the time. The first vocalist was Jen
jackson. Jen was someone I don't really think I understood
at the time, and there was always a little bit of tension between us.
Looking back now, I think it's because I had always been in heavy or
hard rock bands and that's where my heart was, and she was more into
the new wave, punk type of thing, that at the time I really didn't
care for (though I've come to appreciate it much more now, especially
in a world full of britney and n-sync). I was finally in the greatest
band of my life, and she was pulling it in directions I just
didn't want to go in.
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As for what we did in those
days, well... I don't really remember much in the way of gigs with
the exception of the very first official Chimera gig. It was in the
gym at Wachusett high school (which would become
our home turf, and every year we would somehow manage to stage a bigger
and bigger show... but that's in the future). Somewhere there exists a tape of at least
part of that night. The thing that I remember most clearly from it
was my own clumsy attempt to dedicate a song to some friends of mine
in the audience (it would be a while yet before I felt at all comfortable
talking into a microphone) and Jen's increasingly desperate query to
the crowd after every song: "why isn't anybody dancing?".
The highlight was the one and only time we ever played Free
Bird. The
song by which all guitarists were being judged at the time, the one
that everyone supposedly knew, but few could play correctly... We played
the hell out of it for a very long time, and in the end, the roar of
the crowd (and remember, this is on tape and
still exists somewhere) was simply amazing, and would give me chills anytime I was able to
find and play the tape afterwards. |
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This was also the first time we met Larry Boria. Larry was a fast talking somewhat slick type of person who seemed to know an awful lot about the music business, or at least the local music business. He had come with the PA we rented for that night, and by the end had decided that we were a project worth his time to try and influence. Being a bunch of teenagers without a clue and being that he had already demonstrated that at the very least, he had a really big PA, we were willing to hear what he had to say. He would eventually become our manager. Apart from the wachusett gig, the only other show I
can remember from the Jen Era was at the Worcester Country Club, in
tatnuck, and I only remember that because it was very hot. Someone
challenged us to jump in the pool, and Jen took up the challenge..
fully dressed. At the time, I would never have done something like
that. I was a pretty uptight kid in many ways, and I guess I envied
that free spirit in Jen too... Probably the most important event to happen to me personally during the Jen Era was the recording of our first demo. Larry had an 8-track studio and invited us to come in and record some songs. It wasn't technically my first time in a studio (that was with the Commandoes), but this was much more of a real studio, with a control room, giant (or so it looked ) mixer, effects racks, all the things I had seen only in pictures up to that time. It was here that one of the most important events in my life would take place. |
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We met Joe
Arsenault,
the recording engineer who told us where to set up, and then put up
microphones or whatever else was needed. When we were set up, I went
to sit in the control room while he got all the mics going and started
to get sounds. The first thing to be done was to turn up the mics on
the drums. Joe asked Bart to start hitting his bass drum. At first,
I heard nothing, but Joe began turning knobs on the mixer and I began
to hear the drum. click click click click.... hmmm... not very bass
drummish... more knobs turned.... click click bang
bang bang... a little
better... bang bang thump
thump... wow, now it was sounding pretty
cool... thump thump whack
whack whack WHACK WHACK WHACK.. OH YEAH BABY!!! I was amazed! by turning all those little knobs, he was able to go from what sounded like a salmon being slapped on waxed paper into an almighty crash that seemed to cause the very air in the room to pulsate in visible waves that shook the carpeting. That was it for me, a decision was made. More than anything else, I wanted to be a recording engineer! To this day, I love to record. It's so different than playing live, you can get the most amazing sounds and change them and combine them and it's still the place where I enjoy making music the most. I would go on to learn what all those hundreds of tiny knobs are for and eventually record on my own, but back then it was pure magic. |
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Speaking of Magic... We recorded four songs that day. One of the four was Magic Man, by Heart. There was a small controversy that erupted because of the long drum fill near the end. Bart had always played that fill pretty well, and he did so in the studio too, but Joe the engineer (who claimed to be a drummer as well) insisted that the fill was too complex and needed to be simplified. I thought that was idiotic, and I'm pretty sure Bart did as well, but Joe was adamant about it. Bart kept doing it, getting simpler each time, but Joe wasn't satisfied until he came out, sat at the drums and said "play it like this"... The fill he did was mind numbingly dull, but that's the one that Bart played on the tape, most likely because it was the only way to shut Joe up and get the song finished. I also learned a valuable lesson when I made a quick one note mistake near the end of one of the songs. At the time, it seemed like a pretty small screw up, certainly not worth fixing, no one will hear that, right? Wrong. I can hear it, I've heard it every time I've listened to that song. It's like an ice pick in the forehead every time it happens. I find myself looking around at anyone else listening, imagining that they are thinking "Good God!! Did you hear that? He totally screwed up the entire song!!" Lesson #1: Fix Stupid Mistakes! |
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The last song to be recorded was an original. I had never been in a band with someone who could actually write a song from beginning to end, and Sweeter than a lilly was a pretty good song. I think it still holds up pretty well even now. I still have no clue what makes a lilly from the sea so sweet, or even what that means.. I'm not sure Mike knows either, and he wrote it... but hey, who am I to ponder the imponderable.. The last gig of the Jen Era would also be the first gig of the Leslie Era. It was a battle of the bands at E.M. Loews Theater. The contest was judged by applause, so we never stood a chance of winning, another band had brought seemingly their entire school with them. I clearly remember a bottle being thrown at Lance. I don't remember much more about it, though the set list is on the Chimemorabilia page. That was when the band was more for fun than anything, and it wouldn't last long. Chimera was to become a business... not a very profitable one, but in some ways a very efficient one... To be continued... |
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