Al Dodge PART ONE: Music From the Masses I was a happy soldier in the ranks of what appeared to be one of "Hoxies" harmonica legions of the 1920's. This is actually The Pasadena Boys Club Harmonica Band. They may have been performing their cacophonous treatment of "Little Liza Jane". There was something about the raging dissonant musette sound that imprinted on my youthful psyche and remains with me to this day. My red plastic "Herb Shriner" harmonica was upgraded to a Hohner "Marine Band" which was in keeping with the repeated and unsolicited performances of my favorite song; "The Marines Hymn". c.1954 I'm in the forward ranks of this outfit. "The Big Banjo Band". My front row posturing seems to disregard the safety of my wingman on the left, who is about to loose one of the lenses in his glasses to my hovering banjo peghead as I hunker down for some serious plunking. That plunking could also be responsible for some serious inquiry to the eardrums of anyone wondering into the vicinity of this nineteen banjos and a set of drums ensemble. Our outdoor venues, such as the parking lot of a drugstore celebrating a grand opening, were less dangerous than indoor events, as pictured above. These indoor events had limited exiting possibilities and this testosterone-fueled outfit was almost as loud as Dick Dale playing through the first Fender Dual Showman amplifier. The white socks are a nice fashion touch. An important milestone in this period came while playing a banjo rendition of the Orlon's pop hit "South Street" in front of my fellow banjoist and neighbor Al Barnes' parents garage on a city street in Pasadena Calif. Al Barnes, now a legendary host of vintage jazz programming in Seattle is also pictured in the banjo band photo above. (He's in the row behind me on my right; the knot in his tie is loose). We were approached by the proverbial little old lady, who flipped us each a dime, our first musical tip. On one hand we were feeling a lack of proper compensation, although in the donors mind it may have been regarded as quite sufficient from a "1920's dollar" point of view. On the other hand the gears in those youthful brains were wildly churning over the possibilities of glomming onto more of this marginal remuneration. There was some doubt however that these old banjos would ever take us beyond the walls of local pizza gobbling bistros. c.1962 Part TWO: Transitioning out of the loop of success and popularity. Five fresh faces approach the camera with undecipherable expressions; Seemingly angelic but truly with mayhem on their minds. The jug player is Bob Armstrong, at age 15, and was later to become a core member of the Cheapsuit Serenaders. I'm holding that same tenor banjo. At this point it's an icon of the establishment and vilified older generations. There's just a hint of white socks and no pizza in sight. c.1965 Two years later and beyond the pale, three counter culturists rag the Wedding March. Lohengrin, huh??? c.1967 R. Crumb's Keep On Truckin' Orchestra…just trying to cash in on that optimistic catchphrase. We proudly display our first record, which was 78RPM. Not a profitable format. c.1972 At the gulag in the Pines, completely off the grid, wood shedding outside of Crumbs' ramshackle cabin by the river, The land of rubber boots and attack geese. c.1973 This is the second incarnation of R. Crumb and the Cheap Suit Serenaders. Is that an ice bag on my head? c.1977 Everyone has to go here sometime. This instrument was a collaboration with Ralph Novak. I found I could raise as big a ruckus as the nineteen banjos, it just wasn't as quality a ruckus. c.1990 The original Cheap Suits "celebrating(?)" a forty year association. May 9, '09, Oakland, Ca. We're plunking on some Kaleponi Ukuleles I made that are copies of the early portuguese Santo & Diaz ukuleles made in Hawaii in the 1880's. Part Three: Remaining out of the loop of success and popularity I created the concept of "Couch Rock" as a humanitarian effort to keep hordes of electric guitar blues and jazz noodlers at home where only their significant others would be subject to the inane music- like inventions punctuated by ridiculous histrionics that characterized the crap that was pop music in the last decades of the 20th century. Needless to say the couch rock movement was ahead of its time and I had the couch all to myself. c.1981 The current Cheap Suit Serenaders personal lost in the 80s. Date and location of photograph session unknown. c.198? The old millennium Suits; R. Crumb and the Cheap Suit Serenaders somewhere in a far off land. c.1995 Little has changed over the years except the color of my plastic harmonica. Now it's white instead of red.