When I look back to my childhood I realize how lucky our generation was to grow at a time where very few things existed to distract us, and our imaginations, from allowing us to just be kids in our own right.
I had just turned fourteen at the beginning of the 1963-64 school year. At that time, local and regional bands simply did not exist. School dances featured DJ’s—there was no live music. The emergence of the Beatles helped create the desire to make music instead of just listening and dancing to it, so six of us decided we wanted to put together a band. Although we had no instruments, we started writing and playing music in our minds: We decided which instrument each was going to play, words were written, beats were created, melodies envisioned, possible cover songs discussed—all during school lunch, detention, and after school.
By June of 1964 the band was pretty well set except…well, no one had any instruments.
Getting actual instruments seemed to take forever
That summer of ’64, Mark and I worked together planting, weeding, and harvesting fields at a very large farm stand, and accumulated enough money to buy guitars. One day in mid-July, I rode my bicycle two miles to Mark’s house, in another neighborhood. From there, Mark and I rode our bikes seventeen miles from Acton, MA to the Lafayette Radio Electronics store in Natick, located on Route 9— then, and still, one of the busiest and most dangerous roads in America.
Here, Mark bought his base guitar and I my Gretsch hollow body electric six string guitar.
The ride home from Natick to Acton was much more difficult than the trip there had been — we had enough money for guitars, but never had thought about guitar cases.
Luckily the guitars did have straps but, regardless, the seventeen mile trip home was challenging, to say the least. Alright, so maybe we hadn’t thought it out all that well, but hey, we were kids, and excitement overruled pain, suffering and stupidity. We had an adventure, on our own, with no adults mucking it up. We had a learning experience. Best of all, we had instruments!
I don’t recall when Mark and I got amps, cases, and cords to go with guitars, or where the other three got their equipment—John, the lead singer, only needed his Honer Marine Band harmonicas (then $5.00 each, today $50.00), an amp and microphones. I do know that by the beginning of the 1964-65 school year we were rehearsing with actual instruments. The only thing missing was a drummer, but we promptly found Brian, an older kid who had already graduated from high school. The band was complete: Four guitar players, bassist, lead singer and drummer.
Then came naming the band, which would be an issue today. Back in 1964, the term “politically correct” still wouldn’t be invented for some thirty years. We decided the perfect band name would be The Retreds, meaning “retards”. We meant no disrespect or malice to anyone— the name just kind of described us perfectly.
We began playing school dances in 1965
That first year we mostly rehearsed and played occasional school dances. Another local band, The Boss Todes, had formed, and a band rivalry quickly developed. We were two completely different style bands: Both did necessary covers like Louis, Louis by The Kingsmen, Hang on Sloopy by The McCoys, and You Really Got Me by The Kinks. Beyond that, The Boss Todes performed more pop-type songs, covers from bands like The Beau Brummels and The Turtles. The Retreds covered songs by Chuck Berry, early Rolling Stones, The Yardbirds. We also did some R & B and performed Dylan-influenced type originals. The Boss Todes was the nice band, while The Retreads the not-so-nice band. (To put it another way, you might let your daughter go out with a member of The Boss Todes, you probably wouldn’t with a member of The Retreds.)
Two guitars too many
At the beginning, The Retreds had four six string guitar players. One of our players was tone deaf and invariably played in the wrong key. We solved this problem by placing his amp on “stand by” when he wasn’t looking. We never even considered booting him from the band—he was a great guy, one of the original six friends who formed the band—friendship was everything. The problem did resolve itself in the Spring of ’65 when his family moved 46 miles away to Ipswich, Mass. Now the band only had one too many guitar players.
Shortly after the guitar player moved away we went to rehearse at our drummer’s house. When we arrived we found his mother in tears, note in hand, saying that Brian had been drafted into the Army, left a “goodbye” note, and headed for Canada to avoid the Viet Nam mess. Since I hadn’t really taken to playing guitar all that well, I bought a set of drums. The Retreds was now perfect: Two guitars, bass, drums and lead singer. That’s how the band remained until everyone went their separate ways to different colleges.
Of course we had to make a record
When early 1966 arrived, two weeks after I got my drums, we recorded a 45rpm single in 
someone’s basement in Newton, Mass. The “A” side was a detention original, Black Mona Lisa. The “B” side was our cover of Johnny B Goode.
In 1966 there wasn’t a lot of sound mixing equipment around— we recorded to a 2-track AMPEX tape recording machine. Microphones were placed to capture the band as a whole, with one additional mic for the lead singer. There were no overdubs. We’d play each song over and over and 
over again until we got the song as right as possible. I had only been playing drums for two weeks and I clearly remember thinking my wrists were literally going to fall off by the end of the session.
The tape was then sent off to be pressed to vinyl and we were excited 10th graders who now had a record, flaws and all. That Fall, when we entered 11th grade, we began playing “record hops”, hosted by some of Boston’s biggest DJ’s: Dave Maynard and Bruce Bradley from WBZ and Arnie “Woo Woo” Ginsberg from WMEX. We also entered Battle of the Bands competitions all over the state and were doing quite well. We brought our record to Boston radio stations hoping to get air play, especially from Dave Maynard, who loved our version of Johnny G. Goode and always voted for us at band competitions. But, we were told that the best we could hope for was air play on WBZ’s late night show, hosted by Dick Summer. You can’t even imagine how many nights I fell asleep with a radio on my pillow, hoping to catch our song when it got played. I still don’t know if it ever aired.
Gigs got more varied
We were also playing Bridgewater State College and clubs like “The Rat” in Boston.
Those gigs netted us little financially, but they kept us playing and made us a pretty tight band. We did make outstanding money hosting our own dances by renting the Acton Community Center for $25.00 a night, paying two required cops $12.00 each. Admission was 99¢ for an individual, or 2/$1.50. Upwards of 300-400 people would show up on any given night, so we had some serious money left after expenses, at least by 11th grade standards. (Bear in mind minimum wage in 1965 was $1.25 an hour.)
All good things must end, and members of our band went our separate ways in late summer of 1967. Most went to different colleges—it was never an option not to—and each of our lives eventually led us away from creating music, to mostly just enjoying it. The exception was Mark. He switched from bass to six string, and became an incredible blues guitar player. He toured with Luther Johnson of The Muddy Waters Band fame (not to be confused with Luther Guitar Johnson). Whenever Luther and Mark came to Massachusetts, I would drum with them at clubs in Allston, Boston, Cambridge and Cape Cod. That went on sporadically until I was a 23, but my drumming days pretty much concluded when The Retreds ended in the Summer of ’67. The last time I saw Mark play was with John Lee Hooker at the Boston Arena, in an amazing blues riff duel.
I often wonder: If I were a kid today—if my childhood play dates had been arranged, if my parents had chosen my friends, and taken me everywhere— would I have learned even a fraction of what I did being a member of that band, from creation to end? .
If 1964 were today, would I be inside playing video games or hanging on social media instead of peddling my bicycle seventeen miles to get a guitar? If so, I probably would have missed out on hundreds of great memories and learning experiences I have retained from those days. Life didn’t happen digitally then, it happened in real time.
How great was it to be a kid in 1964? I think it was pretty awesome.
Click the links below to hear what a few inexperienced kids, in a crude studio (to say the least) sounded like back in 1966.
Johnny B. Goode Black Mona Lisa
Old Dude Journal® 