Jan. 23, 1971: Full Measure
Have
I mentioned that I didn’t write the headlines for these articles? The one on
the box/sidebar this time is particularly unfortunate.
Meanwhile,
not much luck Googling these guys. Best I can determine is that singer Dennis Bracci
has become a woodworker/furniture maker after retiring and has a shop called
Designs by Dennis on
Searching
for drummer Lenny Potwora turns up what may or may not be more than one guy.
The more likely one is the
Jan. 23, 1971
Struggles Paying Off
For Full Measure
Last year and the year before, Full Measure would have
anticipated last Friday’s dance at
But now that they’ve played that gym stage eight or nine
times, now that they’re the only
* * *
AT PRACTICE
a couple days earlier in bass guitarist Ed Swannie’s basement, the group
recounts that when they were in high school they had to compete with five or six
bands.
“In the beginning,” organist
Steve Marsillo says, “kids used to say: ‘Full Measure? Ehh-hh!’ But now they’re
pullin’ for us, ‘cause we stuck together.”
* * *
“WE ALL went
to colleges around her so we could stay together,” guitarist Wally Tomasik
explains. “When we started, we never expected to be able to do things that
we’re doing now.”
“We used to do all the easy stuff,” singer Dennis Bracci
remarks. “Now we’re into Three Dog Night, Joe Cocker, Chicago, Santana.”
“Only in the last year have we really learned how to play,”
Steve points out. “Now we try to get heavy music with good harmony. We try to
get our drive more or less from each person.”
* * *
THEIR FIRST
break came at a church lawn fete, when someone heard them and asked them to play
in a tent at the Erie County Fair.
That was 1969. They were back at the fair last year, in the
midst of playing most of the under-18 spots in the area – churches, fire halls,
schools, clubs.
In the
“We used to call them for jobs,”
Wally says, “but lately they’ve been calling us.”
“The next move is to get out of
* * *
THE TEACHER
in charge of dances, Samuel Cogswell, will tell you he gets Full Measure
because they’re a favorite with the kids and they generally draw 600 or more.
“The kids are OK,” Wally observes. “They’re almost all
teenyboppers.”
“As long as you play what they want to hear, they won’t jump
you,” Dennis puts in.
* * *
You get to the gym through the brightly-lit cafeteria. Kids
cluster around lunch tables drinking cola, lemon-lime or fizzles orange,
smoking cigarettes which they stomp out on the floor. Smoking is all right in
the cafeteria, but not in the gym.
About 200 kids are rocking to “Delta Lady.” The band-watchers
are two deep in front of the stage. Dateless guys wearing mandatory ties stand
in small knots and watch the girls, who are allowed to wear pants outfits.
Friends dragging dates run over to friends, grab each others’
arms, talk, laugh. Kids stream constantly in and out the door. Estimated median
age, 13½ or 14, and they fill the room with energy, physical expression and
that peculiar self-consciousness.
* * *
THE GROUP,
in contrast, is wildly dressed (lots of stars, stripes, white fringe) and
self-assured. An occasional mistake, but no disasters, nothing poorly done.
Denny announces birthdays and such in the minute between songs.
Wally’s guitar and Steve’s organ project great blocks of
power. Ed’s bass punches reinforcement, but you can scarcely hear drummer Lenny
Potwora.
Denny can roar over the loud background and the harmonies
come through too, thanks to soundman Dennis Wnuk, but sometimes they’re flat.
Maybe they can’t hear up there.
“Chest Fever” has a freak-out
organ intro, Steve leaning his arm on the keyboard, then the chords come at
you, strong and evil. Walter Tomasik, Wally’s father and the group’s unofficial
manager, proposes going backstage. The band waves.
They really can’t hear up there. The words are obliterated
and all you get is a flood of organ and guitar.
* * *
“THE ONLY
way I know where the song is is by singing along by myself,” Steve remarks as
they break. “I’ll be glad when we get those monitor speakers.”
“We’re off tonight,” Lenny proclaims. He rubs his stomach.
“But I’ll be up to strength if I have a hamburger. I haven’t eaten anything
since 6.”
“All he buys is hamburgers,” Ed exclaims. “Six or seven at a
time after a job, 3 or 4 in the morning.”
“You know that sign that says 7 million hamburgers sold,”
Lenny says. “If it wasn’t for me, it’d be 3 million.”
* * *
IF IT ISN’T
their best night, there are plenty of reasons. Wally’s got a 24-hour virus,
says his stomach doesn’t feel good. Lenny’s big drumsticks have cracked his
snare drum head. No spare, so it’s covered with tape.
Ed’s got a sore throat, but at least it isn’t like after
Christmas Day, when he and his girl skidded into another car near
Finally, Denny’s mike goes dead at the start of the second
set and they have to give him the mike that was on the organ Leslie unit.
* * *
IT’S NOT a
bad night, though. “Color My World” and “See Me, Feel Me” draw screams in the
second set and a fresh, driving “Timothy” greets Baker basketball fans coming
in for the end of the dance.
“They’ve been struggling for two years,” the elder Tomasik
says, “and it finally looks like somethin’s gonna happen. I always had faith in
‘em, told ‘em to keep it up.”
That something turns out to be Superior Booking Associates of
Western New York. The agent, Jim Oddie, promises jobs in
“Packed up by 12, home by 5,” somebody says. Then soundman Dennis Wnuk and friend Ray Sieracki help them load equipment into Denny’s van in the falling snow. Ed and Wally plead illness and go home. The rest head for an all-night diner.
The box/sidebar:
They’re Not Geniuses
Pertinent and impertinent
information about Full Measure:
Dennis Bracci, 18, vocals, Lackawanna High, attends
Wally Tomasik, 18, guitar, Lackawanna High, attends
Steve Marsillo, 18, organ, Lackawanna High, attends
Ed Swannie, 18, bass guitar, Lackawanna High, attends Bryant
& Stratton Business Institute.
Lenny Potwora, 17, drummer, senior at Lackawanna High.
* * *
WALLY AND
Dennis started the band, both playing guitars, about 2 ½ years ago. Lenny had
been in a group with Wally when both were about 12. Ed joined shortly after and
talked his buddy Steve into taking organ lessons.
Wally says they have no leader because that might cause
arguments. “We’re not really musical geniuses,” he adds. “We sorta feel what
comes. When we feel what’s right, we play it.”
That’s why Dennis gave up guitar after mixing up words to a
song during a talent show. “I can play while I’m singing,” he says, “but I
can’t sing while I’m playing.”
Why Full Measure? A friend suggested it. It’s the name of a
song by the Lovin’ Spoonful. And, Lenny says, “it’s better than a half
measure.”
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