April 25, 1970: Saint Hill
For young Buffalonians seeking self-improvement and enlightenment in 1970, Scientology was an attractive path. Some of the members of the city’s leading band, The Road, were exploring it. A couple players in the band I was in, Lavender Hill, did some introductory auditing, but its strictures, including the rule against smoking pot, only gave us more things to argue about. Our Scientology initiates said everything would be fine if we all joined them. It seemed to be working that way for the group I interviewed at end of April that year.
Saturday,
April 25, 1970
Saint Hill
Keeps
Comm Lines
Open
There are usually three things that can lift a group into having a good night. A big crowd, a lot of dancers and a lot of rest the night before.
Saint
Hill was in Aliotta’s last Sunday night without any of these, but it sure was
hard to tell.
“We’re
going to play an old Elvis Presley song,” grins lead singer Steve Chalmer,
holding an ever-present cigarette. “We won’t tell you what it is. You’ll know.”
It’s
“Jailhouse Rock.” Haven’t heard that in months. They change tempo in the
middle, then bring it back for the finish. Some of the crowd claps.
* * *
“WE’RE THERE to relate to the crowd, to communicate,” Steve was
saying a few afternoons earlier. “It’s best when you get a really good comm
cycle going.”
Comm
cycle?
Steve
explains.
“I
say: ‘That’s an ashtray.’ You say: ‘Yeah, that’s an ashtray.’ And that’s a comm
cycle. A unit of communication. We’re having it right now.”
It
all comes from Scientology, which is another thing about Saint Hill. The whole
group has gone through the first Scientological course, which is supposed to
break down individual communications barriers.
* * *
THAT particular afternoon we’re jammed around Steve’s kitchen table –
Steve’s parents’ kitchen table, actually – and everybody’s really getting it
on.
There’s
Steve, guitarist Mick Thompson, red-haired bass player John Yuknalis, new
drummer Bill Friday, thin blond-haired Alex Cornell, the group’s new manager,
and Sydney Firman, Mick’s girl and group secretary. All communicating like
crazy.
What
comes across in that yellow-tiled
* * *
“OUR BIGGEST change came three weeks ago when we added Alex,”
Steve says. “One of the first things he said was: ‘You guys have a product and
I’m going to sell it.’”
“For
a couple seconds I was delirious at how easy it would be,” Alex says.
So
Alex has been selling and Saint Hill is working. Working at the WMU Club in
* * *
THE GROUP has been Saint Hill for less than two weeks. Before
that, they were Pharmacy Jones.
“Saint
Hill Manor is where Scientology all originated,” Steve explains.
“Scientologists will recognize the name and the man on the street will hear a
celestial tone in it. When we were Pharmacy Jones, everybody’d think of drugs.”
“Drugs
take you out of the present time,” Mike adds. “We’re all in the present time.”
* * *
THE ORIGINAL Pharmacy Jones was Mick and John and drummer Jim
Eckert, who was drafted last June. They went through a succession of drummers
until they met Bill at the
Steve
came along last fall – the ninth guy to answer an ad Mick and John put in The
Spectrum, the State University of Buffalo newspaper.
Steve
had been through a lot. He organized a folksong club at
“He
said, ‘I’ve been looking for you guys this-s-s-s-s long,’” Mick says.
* * *
“IT WASN’T the idea of the music,” Steve adds. “I would have
played with them even if they were doing James Brown.”
“Actually,
our minds have been together for years,” John observes.
To
get themselves more together, they’re planning to rent a house near UB and live
and practice there. Right now, John and Mick are in Alden and rehearsals are in
Steve’s basement.
“When
we move into the house, it’ll be really nice,” Steve says. “The idea is the
more comm lines we have, the freer everybody is, the more solid everybody is.”
“Communications
is the universal solvent,” Bill adds. “If something’s not going smoothly, we
just comm about it and it clears things up.”
* * *
EVERYTHING gets commed. Each new song. Anybody who’s feeling
down. Everybody’s daily schedules. All group decisions, which, incidentally,
have to be unanimous.
“We’ve
been able to apply a lot of Scientology principles in the band,” Mick says. “We
were the first Scientology group in the area. We’re postulating we’ll be the
first worldwide group from
“The
essence of art is communication,” Steve says. “It’s creating an effect in a
person. The best artists know they’re creating an effect and know the effect
they’re creating. It’s the idea of controlling the effect and getting ideas
back from an audience.”
“We
ask them to come up and talk to us,” John says. “About anything. We want to
keep the comm lines open. It’s not the idea that people know us, but that we
can know more people better.”
“That’s
right,”
And now the
box/sidebar
New and
Booming
Some
pertinent and impertinent information about Saint Hill:
Steve
Chalmer, 21, graduate of Bennett High School, five-time enrollee at UB and a
six-month veteran of the Royal Conservatory of Music, Toronto, songwriter,
electric pianist and former arranger for Cisum Revival, “very single.”
Mick
Thompson, 20, graduate of
John
Yuknalis, 20, graduate of
Bill
Friday, 21, graduate of
* * *
THE GROUP began May 30, 1968, as Pharmacy Jones, with Mick,
John and a drummer now in the Marines. Steve has been with the group six
months. Bill for three weeks.
Steve
jumped from folk to rock because “with a group you can get subtly heavy.” He
once played with The Lynx (“We were the essence of mediocrity. We were the
finest mediocre band in the city.”).
Comments
Post a Comment