Image provided by: Texas A&M University
About The Battalion. (College Station, Tex.) 1893-current | View Entire Issue (Sept. 16, 1983)
I -rs > £ « 0-5JS 2, “ £ s s 5 £ ^“1 oJ |lf nnairtii - * - 1- 3 ^ bCj5 KT. - S T3 c?~£< c r 2-3 5 f..: _-S ^ 5 2 ^ = '3 Q .3 -5 o ■ c 2 2 o ^ o c ■ £< 3 .3 • cx^r: a-i rs . •58 5 ancf they're ours <v o o 00 -8gss™'is f «o^^ | *50 CJ = r;^ = - s^? ^ ^ ~ s - c - g-l ^ 33cS"3^'cS§"«iu.-S _. (_3 2 S w >L> c oox:“-«j ;—1 ^35 ^ P S 4 ^ 2 ^ ^ S3~E S c 03 -a »——1 YW Z.HV^\\ sr k^§. 's: - Band ys" shows in his di um solos, it a Whatever the label, the band rers members are enthusiastic about and their material. When writing songs, Archer works with Hutch- ians ko and D. B. to develop a concept iide and a melody. Then Maloney and -lot Sledge write the rhythm and bass line. ead “It’s complete freedom,” and Sledge says. "Nine out of ten ;m- times, the first input is right. We this click just right. ” He says the mem- hko hers expect each other to write a ney part that complements the other ‘musicians. ;vid The band’s members enjoy ing themselves thoroughly. They like ton to kid around and pick on each ical other. But there’s more to the ard band than good times. The band’s concern with and are positive attitude toward the future ne. shows up in its music. Members iral agree that what Sledge calls the M. “dreary, gloomy, cut-your- les- mother-with-a-chainsaw” lyrics of md some rock have no appeal for the ant group. “You don’t need violence and t to evil to sell your music,” Maloney not says. “There’s enough energy in rock it,” to amuse yourself without vio lence,” Sledge says. ilar A line in one of the group’s 'to songs, “Plastic People,” sums up members’ attitude best: “I wonder "op how pur children will see us is a through their eyes. ” zz- “I use a little philosophy in my by lyrics,” Archer says. “I try to put some kind of message in it. ” :ed Sledge describes the band’s en- philosophy well: “There’s a 1 to chance of hope if you look for it. e a Don’t hurt anybody to do it.” 1 it Hutchko says the group is work er Kevin Bomar, guitarist Terry Dos- nd keyboardist Mark Wilson ofRack- ne the instruments before a session. ing on enough music for an entire album. The only live performance the group has given was Aug. 28 at the Woodstone Shopping Center. Future plans include trying to be an opening act and more re cording sessions. Archer says another video definitely is in the works. For most members of the group, this is the first time they have had a chance to play all ori ginal music. Members agree it’s fun to en tertain a crowd with other group’s hits, but there’s no future in it. A band has to be able to play its own songs to get recognition. “We’ve got material,” Hutchko says. “We just have to get people to hear it.” by Scott Griffin Battalion staff Prizner is a local hard rock band whose music attempts to follow the footsteps of AC/DC and Def Leppard — but on a much smaller scale. Once known to local fans as Warehouse, the band now con sists of five spandex-clad mem bers: vocalist Kevin Wiggins, drummer Christian Pitts,’ lead guitarist Rob Lytton, bassist Dan McCulley and guitarist Keith Pre scott. The group has an elaborate light show and wild, Van Halen- like stage antics. Wiggins — known to his female fans as “Ramon” — says the band, while based in Bryan, initially had to search elsewhere for gigs. “We first built up a following in Caldwell,” Wiggins says. “We played at this place called the SPJST Hall — alphabet hall, we call it. It was pretty strange ’cause everyone who came in put on skates and skated around the floor while we played. ” After several performances in Caldwell, the band moved on to Cuero, where it got its first big gig- “We were playing at this place called Big Jim’s,” Lytton says, “and somebody from a place called Jim Hamilton’s showed up and asked us about a dance battle with a local group called Chase.” Lytton says an average gig nets only about $250, but the “dance battle” gig with Chase netted the group their largest sum ever — $1,200. After conquering Cuero, the band then moved on to Brenham, where the Van Halen-like antics began. “We were playing in Brenham and this girl comes up and asks me for my shirt,” Wiggins says. “So I told her I’d give it to her if she’d take hers off and trade. So she took her shirt off right in the middle of the club. She didn’t have a bra on, and everyone was taking pictures, but she didn’t care. When we got home we hung the shirt up on the wall. Now, we usually get one or two bras thrown at us every show, and we hang the best ones up there with the shirt — it’s called the Prizner Bra Collection.” Besides bras, the band has also collected a rather impressive list of equipment for a small-town band. Lytton says the stage ex penses run up to about $5,000. Included in the set is a 26-foot “Prizner” backdrop, explosions, flashpots and flashing fights. Lytton says the only problem now is bringing their show to Col lege Station. “The problem with this place, ” Lytton says, “is that places like the RoxZ and Park Avenue would rather spin records than have a five band playing, so nobody lis tens to live music in this area.” But Lytton says the situation is improving. “We’ve played several times at Murphy’s. They’ve got five bands playing there every weekend.” Lytton says the band plays ev erything from the “heaviest metal to rockabilly.” “We mainly play what we want,” Lytton says. “Heavy metal is our favorite, but we ll play something else if the crowd wants it.” As far as their own favorite bands are concerned, both Lytton and Wiggins says they try to mod el themselves after the likes of Def Leppard, Krokus, and AC/DC. And while the band has no album, it does have a collection of seven original songs which it hopes to release soon. Rackitt by Louis Hilgartner Battalion reporter Rackitt is a rock band that doesn’t look like a rock band. None of the members have long hair cut in the trademark style of so many hard rockers, but make no mistake, they are wolves in sheeps’ clothes. In the confines of the Roadrun- ner Productions studio behind Tip Top Records in Bryan, guitarist Terry Dossey and keyboardist Mark Wilson keep the melody alive, while drummer Vance Nel son and bassist Darrell “Shookie” Schulte form a solid rhythm sec tion. Kevin Bomar, a loan officer at a local bank, handles the vocal duties with a voice reminiscent of Loverboy’s Mike Reno. Rackitt has been together for six months, but all its time so far has been devoted to studio work and rehearsal, some sessions last ing into the early morning. That will change on Oct. 29, when they take the stage for the first time, opening for Joe “King” Carrasco at the debut of the Heavy Metal Coliseum, a venue hoping to showcase national acts. Rackitt plays only original material. Schulte says the band wants to have an original sound, and will steer away from doing a song if it sounds too much like another band. “People listen closely, and will catch on if you sound like you’re trying to copy someone else,” he says. “Also, it’s important to me to have something to call my own.” Guitarist Dossey expresses similar sentiments. “I like to play fast, but I also like to play slow, so a melody will stick in the audience’s mind.” Dossey is the epitome of the rock guitarist of the ’80s. With his roots in the power rock of the ’70s, he combines a variety of standard rock guitar tricks and scales with his own innovations. T like the feeling of playing on the verge of losing control,” he says. “When I first started playing, I really liked the music of Wishbone Ash. They always seemed to be playing right on the edge of losing control, but managed to pull through. I also really liked Thin Jazzy because of the dual harmo nized leads.” Currently, Dossey says his favo rite guitarist is Eddie Van Halen. “He has that ability to play right on the edge of losing it, and stay in control. ” With a college degree in elec tronics and experience as a guitar repairman at a music store, Dos sey often modifies his guitars to achieve a specific sound. On the other side of the melody section is keyboardist Mark Wil son. Seated behind his stack of pianos and synthesizers, he sear ches for whatever it takes to give a song a catchy line or a full sound. The lead vocals are sung by Kevin Bomar. In a contest to find a rock singer who didn’t look like a rock singer, Bomar would be a hands-down winner. He looks like the stereotypical banker. Bomar refuses to let his “non-look” inter fere with his singing. His range and control give him the ability to sing a variety of songs, from bal lads to the hottest rock. The newest member of Rackitt is drummer Vance Nelson. En thusiastic almost to the point of hyperactivity, he provides a solid foundation for the group’s music. Schulte, whose influences in clude Deep Purple bassist Glenn Hughes, says one of the most posi tive things he’s seen in the band is the willingness of all the members to give and take constructive cri ticism. “A good attitude is crucial if a band is going to stay together,” he says. A lot of bands start playing, and then expect too much too soon, he says. This often leads to internal squabbles and the demise of an otherwise good band. Rackitt is making every effort to see that doesn’t happen to them. “We have an attitude of being friends both on and off stage,” Schulte says. Rackitt plans to continue its studio work and have an album completed in time for the Carras co show. See also SunRise, page 5, and Tamoo, page 12