I LOVE THIS JOHN PEEL QUOTE (IT WAS WORTH THE 37 YEARS WAIT)

[Richard Shaw-Brown]

(Feb 1967) shortly after record launch, while the band was busy with interviews and other 
PR, singer/songwriter Rick Brown was drafted by the US army for the Vietnam War. Brown 
ended up escaping from boot camp and hiding in India for 12 years, until he was granted 
amnesty in 1979. Without their lead singer and frontman, the band ended up in disarray 
and broke up.

--- In peel@yahoogroups.com, Paul Bryant <pbryant98@...> wrote:
>
> Fine story, but remind me why the Misunderstood were
> never successful - sounds like they really should have
> been.
> 
> 
> --- Richard Shaw Brown <rsbj66@...> wrote:
> 
> > I LOVE THIS JOHN PEEL QUOTE (IT WAS WORTH THE 37
> > YEARS WAIT)
> > 
> > (In 1966) The Misunderstood played at Pandora's Box
> > on Sunset in LA,
> > about which John Peel told Index Magazine in 2003,
> > "If I had to list
> > the ten greatest performances I've seen in my life,
> > one would be The
> > Misunderstood at Pandora's Box, Hollywood, 1966. It
> > was the only time
> > I've seen an audience reduced to impotent silence".
> > 
> > HOW WELL I REMEMBER 

> > 
> > CHAPTER 34: Pandora's Box
> > 
> > Would you believe? We start out pretending to be
> > English, and we
> > actually become a British band, in real-live London.
> > 'How in the world
> > did that happen?' you wonder. Well, it all started
> > with John Peel, at
> > Hollywood's crazy Pandora's Box rock club. A mighty
> > wild night that
> > would really change our lives.
> > 
> > We're on stage. The club's lights are out. The only
> > light is the
> > flashing coming from behind our amps. We're playing
> > The Yardbird's
> > classic, 'I'm Not Talking' – in OUR style. And we're
> > just coming to our
> > long freak out solo, where we leave the stage with
> > music on auto-pilot.
> > No sh*t!
> > 
> > The music suddenly jerks to a halt, and into the
> > microphone I shout,
> > 'I'M NOT TALKIN'
> > 
> > Then the band comes in together
CRASH!
and again
> > jerks to a stop. I
> > finish the rap, 'THAT'S ALL I GOTTA SAY!'
> > 
> > Drum roll
. Feedback: 'Bhuzzzzzz' Whoa, here we go.
> > Glenn begins
> > amazing shrieks and screeching sounds in Indian raga
> > style, and all the
> > guys get their guitars feeding back in different
> > tremolo speeds, some
> > fast, like 'wah wah wah', some slow, like, 'woo woo
> > woo.' The guys
> > remove their guitars, lean them against their amps,
> > and we all jump off
> > the stage into the audience, leaving the guitars
> > feeding back. Moe is
> > the only band member on stage, keeping the beat. The
> > lights flash in
> > sync with the screaming feedback, accompanied by
> > Moe's pounding drums.
> > The scene is unreal. 
> > 
> > Me and the other guys go behind the crowd to see how
> > it looks. It's
> > spectacular! Mind-blowing! The bartender even closes
> > the bar to watch
> > the spectacle of the world's first-ever psychedelic
> > light show. We all
> > stand with him looking as our unattended guitars
> > wail away in
> > controlled feedback, the likes of which Hollywood,
> > and the world, has
> > never seen.
> > 
> > John Peel is standing with the band, and has to
> > shout into my ear to be
> > heard. 'Rick! RICK! Look at the crowd!' We both see
> > the crowd,
> > hypnotized, all their eyes on the near empty
> > flashing, screaming stage,
> > their mouths just hanging open...
> > 
> > 'Ha!' I laugh. 'Looks like the Misunderstood are
> > better off stage than
> > all the other groups are ON stage!'
> > 
> > John is straining his voice to tell me, 'Rick, I
> > know we've tried the
> > record companies here. All they want is what sells:
> > pop music!'
> > 
> > The stunning sounds suddenly get louder. Glenn has
> > climbed back on
> > stage and starts an Indian raga-riff, making it feed
> > back even more.
> > Moe keeps the steady beat, along with Steve who also
> > joins in again.
> > 
> > I'm still standing behind the crowd with John. I ask
> > him, 'What? What
> > did you say?'
> > 
> > 'I THINK YOU SHOULD MOVE TO LONDON!' he shouts into
> > my ear.
> > 
> > 'What? What about London?' I holler back.
> > 
> > 'The band should move to London! My brother Alan can
> > help!' John
> > suggests.
> > 
> > Duh! Dumb me, I'm like, 'Where's Alan?' - or better
> > yet, 'Where's
> > London?'
> > 
> > 'He lives in London, so does my Mum! I come from
> > England, remember?'
> > 
> > But I don't reply. Instead I weave my way through
> > the crowd – the
> > people are so amazed by the musical drama that they
> > don't even notice
> > me – and I jump back onto the stage to join the
> > other band members.
> > 
> > I take the shrieking bongo drum off the head of my
> > microphone and we
> > jerk to a halt. Again I belt out, 'I'm not talkin'!'
> > CRASH! 'That's
> > what I gotta say!' And we're back into the song
> > again, blasting at full
> > volume. All amps set on volume 15 (out of 1-10).
> > 
> > After the sustained noise of the feedback the music
> > is even more
> > powerful, and the audience are really getting into
> > it. Bitchen! YEAH!
> > 
> > I glance at Glenn, and he has a look like, 'Wow!
> > Have we stumbled on to
> > something here, or what?'
> > 
> > Moe is shaking his hair, spraying sweat into the
> > lights.
> > 
> > Greg is bouncing up and down as he plays his guitar.
> > His head hits the
> > roof of the low stage sending down a small shower of
> > plaster.
> > 
> > When the 10-12 minute song ends there is a moment of
> > dead silence -
> > 'gulp x 5' - then the audience breaks into a loud
> > roar of sustained
> > applause, surging towards the stage. We're all
> > smiling in a dazed,
> > bemused kind of way. Greg is rubbing his head, which
> > he's surprised to
> > find has blood from where he'd hit it. In the
> > audience, John Peel is
> > looking on like a proud father figure. 'Yo Papa!'
> > 
> > After the gig we're on the way home. Greg is
> > driving, Steve in the
> > passenger seat, I'm leaning forward between them;
> > Moe and Glenn sit in
> > the back, crushed between all the equipment.
> > 
> > 'So it's simple,' I'm telling them. 'John can fix it
> > all up. His mom
> > lives right in the middle of London, we can stay
> > there. His brother's
> > an actor or something – he's totally connected – he
> > can hook us up with
> > a manager, maybe even a record deal.'
> > 
> > 'So, what are you saying?' asks Steve. 'We just like
> > pack up everything
> > and fly to England
'
> > 
> > Greg interrupts, '
 and become an overnight
> > sensation, hang out with
> > the Beatles and the Stones, and then conquer the
> > world
'
> > 
> > 'Well, yeah. Basically.' I prod, 'What would you
> > rather do, sit here
> > and rot in Riverside? None of the Hollywood record
> > companies will even
> > give us the time of day. We gotta go for it, dudes!'
> > 
> > http://www.themisunderstood.com/like-novel.html
> > 
> > Send instant messages to your online friends
> > http://uk.messenger.yahoo.com 
> > 
> 
> 
> 
>       
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