July 25, 1970: Brasen

 

        With my band affiliation gone (see July 18), I set about reformulating my love affair with the world of music. I began by going back to my folkie roots the very next weekend at the 1970 Mariposa Folk Festival on Toronto Islands.

The headliners included James Taylor, Joni Mitchell, David Bromberg, Mississippi Fred McDowell and Ramblin’ Jack Elliott. It was magical.

Meanwhile, the duo featured in this weekend’s TV Topics turned out to be a perfect reflection of where my head was turning: 

Saturday, July 25, 1970

 Brasen Stays with ‘Light Music’

 They’re Tired of Rock – But Don’t

Call Them Folksingers

        Gerry Ralston is on the phone and it’s hard to know whether to believe him or not.

        Gerry’s a promoter, see? A self-styled, true-believing apostle of The Buffalo Scene.

        During the past couple years we’ve seen some of Gerry’s projects sink like stones. But his intentions are good and, well, here he is again.

        “I got this great group,” the phone says. “They’re two guys and they call themselves Brasen. They’re kids like Simon & Garfunkel or Crosby, Stills & Nash. You gotta hear ‘em.”

* * *

BRASEN IS John Brady and Dave Hansen and at the Ashford Hollow Pop-Rock Festival earlier this month they showed they could blend their voices and acoustic guitars as easily as they mixed their names.

        A year ago, before Crosby, Stills & Nash, a rock audience wouldn’t have been ready for them. But CS&N have created some new tolerances in pop music.

        In tribute, Brasen does a bunch of CS&N, including an amazingly tight “Suite: Judy Blue Eyes.” They also do rock tunes. Call them folksingers and they’ll deny it.

        “Crosby, Stills & Nash do things like, let’s take ‘Helplessly Hoping,’” John says. “The way they’re singing, it’s not folk. The only way I can phrase it is ‘light music.’ What makes it are the subtleties.”

* * *

JOHN AND DAVE opened their own bag of subtleties back in February. John’s wife’s aunt’s husband got them a gig in The Sea Shanty on Fillmore Avenue and The Sea Shanty took out some radio commercials.

        Enter Gerry Ralston:

        “I was sitting around one night and I heard on the radio: ‘Do you like folk music? Come to The Sea Shanty and hear John and Dave.’

        “Well, I saw ‘em and I really flipped. Then I came back with a girl the next week and SHE flipped. So I invited them to a party and then another party and pretty soon I was managing them without really managing them.”

* * *

GERRY’S REALLY managing them now and they’re playing Tuesdays and Wednesdays at Maxl’s on Main at Ferry. Monday afternoon they’ll be outside UB’s Norton Union, playing in a free concert.

        Meanwhile, Brasen isn’t making much money.

        “I got nine bucks last week,” Dave says, looking at Gerry. Dave lives at home, however. John keeps going by teaching guitar and working in a drugstore.

        But their main concern as we sit around John’s third-floor apartment in south Kenmore is about keeping performing and promoting in perspective. They want things personal and informal.

        “We’re just doing what we want to do,” John says, “and everybody’s playing games. If you want a job, you have to play games back with them. You go into a bar and they don’t tell you yes or no. They say I don’t know, come back next week.

        “We just want to play for the people and have them enjoy it,” he adds. “If I had a choice of doing rock or doing this, I’d rather do this.”

        “You get a closer communication with the audience that you don’t get with a rock group,” Dave observes.

* * *

“WE GET really porky with an audience sometimes,” John chuckles.

        “Last week I felt like a grouch,” Dave says, “so I told the people I was in a bad mood and they’d just have to watch John tonight.

        “I’m not so serious,” he continues, “about music that I let it take over other activities in my life. I’m not sure anything’s worth a lot of sweat. Healthy sweat, yes, but not the kind that makes you neurotic. If my head starts to go, I quit.”

* * *

JOHN AGREES. “I can’t see being hung up for the rest of my life doing something I don’t want to do,” he says. “We’ve got to get to the point where we’re sitting on a stage so it’s like we’re sitting in someone’s living room, like we’re playing to half a dozen people at a party.”

        “Yeah,” Dave says. “Joke, sing. Unfortunately, you have to be a star to mess around like that. You can’t just get up there and do what you want.”

* * *

“WITH ROCK,” John says, “I just got sick of doing it. Like with Dave, we have no problems. We like the same music. There’s no adversity, no fighting, as little ego-tripping as possible.

        “I suppose we have a chance in a thousand of making it on a big level. But I’d rather do it this way than as a group. There’s not many making it this way.”

        The two try to obliterate standard rhythm and lead guitar roles. On their own and other people’s songs, their guitars make an almost baroque blend.

        “If I’m playing lead in a song,” John says. “I don’t want them to listen to me. I want them to listen to him and everything that’s happening. I think it’s more interesting music.”

* * *

DESPITE THEIR confidence, they still were expecting the worst when they gigged at Gilligan’s last month. They figured people would want Chicago or something. But somehow everybody just listened instead.

        “People are forced to listen more to us than a rock group,” Dave explains. “They can’t dance to us. With rock, they come in, listen for a couple songs, then go out.”

 

And here’s the box:

 

They Bank on Good Taste

 

Pertinent and impertinent notes on Brasen:

        John Brady, 21, Sagittarius, graduate of Cardinal O’Hara High School, has nine hours to finish at Buffalo State University College (“I’m gonna take ‘em. I don’t know why”), English major, married, will be a father in December.

        Dave Hansen, 22, Aries (“We’re both in the Ninth House, so we’re compatible”), Maryvale High School and a June graduate from UB, English major, single, likes tall blondes.

* * *

BOTH HAVE been rock ‘n roll refugees for about four years. Dave was with The Lords (“if anybody remembers”) and John played drums (“They were getting to be kind of a drag. You can’t take your drums to a party”).

        So John started taking his guitar to parties. And his girl was friends with Dave’s girl. The inevitable meeting happened at a house party three Christmas Eves ago.

        “He had his guitar,” Dave says, “and I had my guitar and we sat down and played old Beatles tunes. It was instant communication. We’ve hated each other ever since.”

* * *

THEY TOYED for a while with going electric.

        “We put ads in the paper,” Dave says, “and you know what happens. We tried a few drummers and guitarists and they all stunk.

        “This one guy comes with a big Fender amp, he’s been playing four months, you know? So he turned it up to 10 and blew us out of the room. Then he says: ‘You wanta hear some more?’”

        “When Crosby, Stills & Nash came out,” John says, “we dug it ‘cause that’s what we wanted to do except we hadn’t known it before. Before that, we were like half a band waiting for the rest to come around.”

        “Like technically,” Dave says, “neither of us is the best guitarist in the world. But I think we’ve got a lot more taste than some people who’ve got a lot more talent.”