able to reconcile the constraints that record companies wanted to impose on them with their desire to make wild psychedelic jam music. Eventually the inevitable happened and the band split up. “It was about ’71-72. Our managers who owned a chain of hippie clothing stores amassed a lot of excessive debt keeping us out there, i.e. trucks, transportation, paying a tech to keep the amps and gadgets going, studio time, roadies and so much more. We were left high and dry and eventually we just could not do it anymore – probably a typical story. This was extremely hard on Greg who eventually drank himself to death.”


After the split, Bob drifted from coast to coast. “In ’73 me and my first wife moved to rural Arkansas. I heard about some musicians called Sass who were looking for a new drummer. I seem to have a knack for finding good bands. [After that] a couple of guys told me about auditions for a Nashville band called The Jessica James Gang (Jessica James was a stage name but her dad was Conway Twitty). I got the job. The band would travel on a bus while Jessica James travelled in her own camper bus. What a gas I was having – consuming two bottles of Jack Daniels a day with amphetamines and magic mushrooms, until one night after a show I got arrested at a Kings Inn for being out on a balcony naked with a women, firing off my gun.”


Thirty years and four wives later, Bob has settled down somewhat in upstate New York where he is recording again. “I started a power trio to re-record SAF songs – we’re currently waiting to finish mixing what we recorded.” One of these songs will appear on a new CD reissue of the SAF album released on the superb Rockadrome imprint, with additional sleevenotes and unseen photos. Pick it up forthwith.


acid he would read from the road map and take everyone on a very weird trip. Funny thing was I always knew where he was going.”


The band was certainly living the dream to the full at this time. “A lot of record companies were supplying their artists with drugs to play harder and be more creative. I didn’t have to buy drugs any more, because they were supplied to us by guys in suits who would watch us do it right off the console board. We eventually discovered we could play improvising music longer and more creatively using LSD. The sex thing earlier on was happening (lots of groupies) but soon we all had wives or girlfriends who would hang out backstage so we had to behave. Though, there were always road ladies.”


With such a popular stageshow and strong material, the band soon made it into the studio. “We were just coming up with so much original material we actually had enough for two albums. The managers started shopping around demos in NYC so we ended up in studios – mainly L & H studios owned by one of the members of The


Critters. Felix Pappalardi was supposed to produce the album but he wanted too much money, so we recorded ourselves. We were in there sometimes three days and nights at a time. They sent the masters to Motown to be mixed though Motown and heavy loud rock did not mix, so we eventually had it released on our own label – Zonk Promotions.” The finished album is a raging slab of heavy psychedelia with the odd hint of funk and an absolutely essential purchase for those into the raw early metal sound.


It was no wonder that the record companies soon came knocking. “The biggest one was Atlantic Records who came out to see us play at The Anderson Theatre in Greenwich Village. They liked us and two weeks later we had contracts in our hands. They wanted us to re-record the album in their studios and then they offered $10,000 to our managers to go away. Management invested a lot of time and money in us. Greg was too loyal to the managers plus he didn’t want to be told when, where and what to play as per the Atlantic Records contract, so we rejected it.”


The band continued gigging but were never L-R: Tom Nardi, Savona “Bob” Sharples, and Gregory Onushko (“Ohm”) 19


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