Devils & Blue Dresses: My Wild Ride as a Rock and Roll Legend

roadies, I forget who, sat in the passenger seat of the car. J.B. was our spiritual leader and a member of a Detroit motorcycle gang called the Renegades, whose clubhouse was on 8 Mile. For many years 8 Mile Road served as a dividing line for the races in Detroit. The photograph was a bit intimidating in a time of cultural peace and love. Actually, it was scary. We looked more like a motorcycle gang filled with bad intentions than we did flower power hippies.
    The music, though, was powerful. We heard stories about Aerosmith playing our recording as they flew from one city to another in their private jet. We, however, were struggling to stay alive in spite of our peer admiration. The band Detroit soon changed.We picked up a young guitar/keyboard player from Colorado named Brett Tuggle who eventually made a good name for himself in L.A., but only after he left the Mitch Ryder school of insanity.
    One day I personally accompanied Mark Manko to clean out his older brother’s apartment. In an attempt to collect money, his brother had been murdered by drug dealer “friends.” We couldn’t get the blood out of the carpet. It wasn’t long after that when I stood by Mark as he buried his baby brother, who had shot himself in the head while sitting in a bathtub full of water. His poor parents discovered the red water as it fell over the edge of the bathtub and throughout the house.
    That group was the most violent group I had ever been exposed to. But, none of the players looked at themselves as violent, even as we adopted a biker code and philosophy that drove our lifestyle for the next two years. In a way I look at Barry’s introduction of that band into the music scene the same way I now look back on the movie
King Kong
, except there was no love interest. The music was powerful because it was filled with naked hate, frustration, attitude, and desire. Every note played by every whacked out, freaked out, high as a motherfucker band member contained energy no mortal could ever summon. They wouldn’t even know where to begin looking. And then you had poor Steve Hunter, every night doing his brilliant guitar work totally straight, as the demons flew light speed around him and he was still able to make sense of it all. He gave it direction. A real country boy.

     
    The band Detroit, minus the wheels. L-R: J.B. Fields, John Badanjek, Harry Phillips, Dirty Ed (Oklazaki), Steve Hunter, Ronnie Cooke, and Mitch
.
    The recording, having finally been cut to completion, had to now be introduced to the world, and that was where Barry Kramer was at his best. None of the writers at
Creem
owned an idiomatic style, but their intentions were unique. Dave Marsh had evolved into a national reputation and was asked to write the liner notes for the album.
    Another character, Lester Bangs, had arrived at
Creem
with great talent as well, and the quality of writing and the magazine itself were now being taken seriously in the marketplace. Lester presented no apologies for his often-acidic reviews of the new wave of artists being promoted by the major labels. Like Dave Marsh, he understood that the music coming out of Detroit was fundamentally unlike the wimped out West Coast pablum, or the cold, calculated, contrived steps of the New York “wunderkind” that were being shipped out to the heartland on a weekly basis.
    Barry had acquired the new distribution deal with Curtis Distribution in New York and people like Charlie Auringer brought the layouts and photographs to miraculous heights. The writing, interviews, and critiques were a far cry from the original
Creem
. The magazine now had some power and influence on a national scale, and was steadily increasing circulation. The Curtis deal would prove to be temporary, but necessary.
    Barry knew all of this, but instead of stopping to take a bow, he began to apply the magazine’s influence toward his goal of resurrecting Mitch Ryder. On the down side, the success of
Creem
and the spotlighting of regional talent it did, served to increase competition to the Mitch Ryder goal.
    We had a very good product in the
Detroit
album and with Barry’s connections and favors we marched back into the belly of the beast, New York, with a promotion money could not buy. I wasn’t overly anxious to return to New York, but felt somewhat protected from the ill-will of my enemies under the protective guidance of Barry.
    We released a single called “Rock ‘N’ Roll” that was written by Lou Reed. Lou had