Along Comes The Association is the story of how Russ Giguere and his fellow band members in the legendary and influential pop group The Association came together to create unparalleled music, unique to the time and place, and never again to be repeated. Yes, there were drugs, and there were women, such as the lovely Linda Ronstadt and Helen Mirren, but it was the sixties, after all. In reading Along Comes The Association, you are transported back in time to post-1963 America. Go on, try to resist the urge to roll one while floating on the musical cloud of melodic rock that Russ Giguere and his band of troubadours popularized and we still cherish to this day…
|Publisher:||Rare Bird Books|
|Product dimensions:||5.50(w) x 8.50(h) x 0.00(d)|
About the Author
Russ Giguere joined The Men, a folk-rock group born out of Hootenanny Night at The Troubadour in West Hollywood, in 1964. When The Men disbanded, six members formed The Association, in which Russ sang lead on songs like “Cherish” and “Windy” and played rhythm guitar, serving as an integral part in The Association's sound for the next six years. During one of rock music’s most influential time periods, Russ rode to the top of the music charts with The Association, opening the legendary Monterey International Pop Festival and some of the biggest concert venues in the US to the very first sounds of rock and roll. Along Comes the Association, featuring a foreword from David Geffen, chronicles Russ’s time with sex, drugs, rock and roll, and three-piece suits as a member of The Association, his solo career, and the decades when he later rejoined the band. More than 50 years later, The Association’s songs rank among BMI’s Top 100 Songs of the Century. Somewhere in a city near you, The Association is playing a concert to a packed house of adoring fans.
Ashley Wren Collins is an award-winning author, director, producer, choreographer and actor. She lives in New York City.
In 1967, our country was at war and rock and roll music was the anthem of the anti-war protesters. I had dropped out of college and fudged a document to make it look as though indeed I had graduated from UCLA, all to keep my job at the William Morris Agency, and I was interested in advancing my career in the music industry by working with the best rock and roll talent.
I was representing Janis Ian at the time and she was on a split bill with The Association at the Village Theatre (later the Fillmore East) in New York City. The concert promoter, Bill Graham, had accidentally put both Janis and The Association down as headliners. Well, you can’t have two headliners. There were afternoon and evening concerts lined up, but I walked into the theater to find Lee Liebman, The Association’s road manager, and Janis’s manager arguing over who should headline. For me, the solution was simple. “She headlines one,” I said, pointing to Janis, “and they,” I nodded in the direction of 6 twenty-something men, “headline the other.”
If anyone ever tries to use words to describe what happens when you hear beautiful music liveincredible, rich, complex vocal harmoniesit can't be doneyou just can’t do that feeling justice. No group sounded like The Association. They were the real deal. Eager and ambitious to make my mark in music, I was determined to sign them.
Pat Colecchio, The Association’s manager, rang me up to thank me for handling the headliner incident. Colecchio got the group out of their contract (with an agency that was thought to have mob connections), and I signed them to William Morris.
The rest, as they say, is rock history. In this book, Russ Giguere has gone back in timeover fifty years nowto chronicle the experience of what it was like to be in the music scene in 1960s LA, where everyone knew everyone, played and sang with one another in various bands at all the clubs, and forever changed musichow we hear it, how we feel it, and what it means to us. His memoir is candid, frank, and at times, laugh out loud funny. If you know Russ, you certainly wouldn’t expect anything less from the man who used to call my office and answer my assistant’s question, “Who shall I say is calling?” with a dramatic pause followed by: “The Phantom.” My assistant would patch Russ straight through to me without missing a beat.
The Phantom days are long gone. The music business ain’t what it used to be, that’s for sure. But music made by The Association, well, there’s a reason it’s still living on the airwaves today.
Turn the page, and cherish.
Los Angeles, CA