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Miss Pittstop - I admire your style (as one Hanna B to another) but these revelations (see down) have left me breathless.....
ARCHIES' "CANDY GIRL'' TELLS ALL By John M. Donovan
(from THE OCTOPUS, Friday May 2, 1997 edition)
Their debut single went to the top of the charts. They had their own TV show. They were adored by young people who loved their music, and by an older generation who saw them as a clean-cut throwback to a quieter, more respectful time. Yet life wasn't all burgers and malts for the Archies, whose meteoric success and equally rapid collapse is the subject of Betty Cooper's new book: I'M NOT YOUR CANDY GIRL: THE RISE AND FALL OF THE ARCHIES ($18.95, 336pp., Riverdale Press).
Betty, who played keyboards for the group, paints a picture of a band torn apart by in-fighting, creative differences, and the inevitable pressures of fame. ``People still think of us as bubblegum music,'' Betty notes, ``but our original sound had more of an edge. The idea in the beginning was to be a real in-your-face, screw-the-establishment band-- the kind of music our parents hated. But Archie's mother put the kibosh on that.'' It was Archie's mother, Mary Andrews, who strongly suggested that the group 1record ``Sugar Sugar'' which hit number one on the billboard pop charts in 1969. ``She didn't like what we were doing.'' recalls Betty, ``She though we should be playing nice, happy, non-subversive music like the Ohio Express. So Archie came in with the arrangement for `Sugar Sugar' and after rehearsing it one time, Juggled literally puked all over the garage floor. The rest of us hated it too, but it was a losing battle. Archie's mom had a really perverse sense of control over him, and he wouldn't go against her wishes for anything. After we bitched about it long enough, he asked us very calmly to look and see whose name was on the drums (NOTE- the drums said `The Archies'). That was always his answer when things didn't go his way.
Mrs. Andrews' influence led to the group's follow up hits, ``Bang-Shang-A-Lang'' and ``Jingle Jangle.'' Betty remembers derisively asking Archie if he had plans to cover `Inka-Dinka-Doo' as well. The success of the group's initial effort created a major rift in the band. ``It was like, 'OK, we've made our commercial albums, so now lets get down to making some music,'' says Betty. ``But Archie didn't see it that way. He liked being able to buy those $500 sweater-vests.'' Cooper had already penned seven songs for a concept album GRUNDYLAND, that would showcase Jughead's jazz-influenced drum solos, and her own psychedelic keyboard improvisations. (She is unfailingly modest about her talents throughout the book, and mentions only reluctantly that Keith Emerson once called her ``the undisputed queen of rock keyboards.'') The other Archies --- Reggie in particular --- laughed at the idea of a concept album, though none of them could agree on an alternative. Archie insisted on sticking with the bouncy, innocuous, three-minute pop songs that were proven sellers, while Reggie wanted to lunge into Yardbirds-style blues rock. ``Reggie never played a single rift that Clapton hadn't already done, and done better'', Betty laughed. With Archie standing pat, Reggie leaning towards the blues, and Betty and Jughead hoping to take the band in a more innovative musical direction, the lone band member with no expressed preference was Veronica Lodge. In public, Veronica said she was anxious to get started on the next album , ``whatever it turns out to be.'' In private, however, she often contributed to the dissension by playing one band member against the other, taking sides. Betty notes, ``according to whether it was Archie or Reggie wearing the tighter slacks that day.''
Betty has little good to say about her female bandmate. ``In the first place,'' she says, ``Ronnie had no reason to care what kind of songs we were playing. All she had to do was bang a tambourine on her ass, but even that was too much for her to handle. When we were in the studio the sound engineer made sure there wasn't a live mike within fifty feet of her. ``In the second place, it shouldn't come as a surprise to anyone that Veronica was two-faced. She needed the extra face because the first one was usually busy, if you know what I mean. It was like having a groupie right there in the band.''
While Veronica's affairs with Archie, Reggie, and Jughead are well documented, she has neither confirmed nor denied Betty's other claims. ``Ronnie did it with Fred Andrews (Archie's Father), a roadie named Moose, and out booking manager, Mr. Flutesnoot,'' Cooper says. ``And I know she'll deny it, but one night she made it with two-thirds of Jose and the Pussycats--- the black one and the dumb one.'' With the band in constant Turmoil, it was Archie himself who delivered the groups death blow. In late 1970 he had shed the influence of his mother but had taken up with a model-turned-racecar driver Penelope Pittstop, described by Betty as ``pure white trash.'' Pittstop sat on a stool next to Archie during the practice sessions, and gradually began making critical comments about the musicianship of the other band members. ``At one point she told Jughead to lay off the high hat, and Juggie just went berserk,'' Betty recalls. ``He was so mad, he actually opened his eyes.'' Though there was no official breakup, the rest of the Archies simply stopped coming to rehearsals, and by the end of the year had gone their separate ways.
Reggie formed the blues rock ensemble known as Mantle is God, but his ponderous, arty arrangements and egocentric lyrics failed to find an audience. The group's only album foundered at the bottom of the Top 100. Jughead toured briefly with the Banana Splits, but the association ended disastrously after his famous on-stage fight with Fleagle in Monterey in 1971 Archie and Penelope Pittstop recorded one album together, a drippy collection of flower-power mush that failed to chart. After the two split up, he turned to writing commercial jingles. Betty continued her work on GRUNDYLAND, finally releasing the collection of psychedelic organ solos at the height of disco in 1977. ``The timing wasn't great,'' she admits. In 1980, Jughead persuaded Betty to join him and rhythm guitarist Dilton Doiley in a band named after and fronted by radical lesbian Big Ethel. The group proved to be too much punk-oriented for Betty, she left in protest after Big Ethel ripper her shirt open during an appearance on ``Saturday Night Life.''
Ironically, Veronica has enjoyed the longest uninterrupted post-Archies music career, working steadily as a session tambourinist. ``Even after all these years, Archie's the only one who ever suggests an Archie reunion.'' says Cooper. ``But nobody's interested because we all know he still owns that same set of drums with his name on them.''
We all have stages - I hope I can be with you on one of yours...
Magilla
ARCHIES' "CANDY GIRL'' TELLS ALL By John M. Donovan
(from THE OCTOPUS, Friday May 2, 1997 edition)
Their debut single went to the top of the charts. They had their own TV show. They were adored by young people who loved their music, and by an older generation who saw them as a clean-cut throwback to a quieter, more respectful time. Yet life wasn't all burgers and malts for the Archies, whose meteoric success and equally rapid collapse is the subject of Betty Cooper's new book: I'M NOT YOUR CANDY GIRL: THE RISE AND FALL OF THE ARCHIES ($18.95, 336pp., Riverdale Press).
Betty, who played keyboards for the group, paints a picture of a band torn apart by in-fighting, creative differences, and the inevitable pressures of fame. ``People still think of us as bubblegum music,'' Betty notes, ``but our original sound had more of an edge. The idea in the beginning was to be a real in-your-face, screw-the-establishment band-- the kind of music our parents hated. But Archie's mother put the kibosh on that.'' It was Archie's mother, Mary Andrews, who strongly suggested that the group 1record ``Sugar Sugar'' which hit number one on the billboard pop charts in 1969. ``She didn't like what we were doing.'' recalls Betty, ``She though we should be playing nice, happy, non-subversive music like the Ohio Express. So Archie came in with the arrangement for `Sugar Sugar' and after rehearsing it one time, Juggled literally puked all over the garage floor. The rest of us hated it too, but it was a losing battle. Archie's mom had a really perverse sense of control over him, and he wouldn't go against her wishes for anything. After we bitched about it long enough, he asked us very calmly to look and see whose name was on the drums (NOTE- the drums said `The Archies'). That was always his answer when things didn't go his way.
Mrs. Andrews' influence led to the group's follow up hits, ``Bang-Shang-A-Lang'' and ``Jingle Jangle.'' Betty remembers derisively asking Archie if he had plans to cover `Inka-Dinka-Doo' as well. The success of the group's initial effort created a major rift in the band. ``It was like, 'OK, we've made our commercial albums, so now lets get down to making some music,'' says Betty. ``But Archie didn't see it that way. He liked being able to buy those $500 sweater-vests.'' Cooper had already penned seven songs for a concept album GRUNDYLAND, that would showcase Jughead's jazz-influenced drum solos, and her own psychedelic keyboard improvisations. (She is unfailingly modest about her talents throughout the book, and mentions only reluctantly that Keith Emerson once called her ``the undisputed queen of rock keyboards.'') The other Archies --- Reggie in particular --- laughed at the idea of a concept album, though none of them could agree on an alternative. Archie insisted on sticking with the bouncy, innocuous, three-minute pop songs that were proven sellers, while Reggie wanted to lunge into Yardbirds-style blues rock. ``Reggie never played a single rift that Clapton hadn't already done, and done better'', Betty laughed. With Archie standing pat, Reggie leaning towards the blues, and Betty and Jughead hoping to take the band in a more innovative musical direction, the lone band member with no expressed preference was Veronica Lodge. In public, Veronica said she was anxious to get started on the next album , ``whatever it turns out to be.'' In private, however, she often contributed to the dissension by playing one band member against the other, taking sides. Betty notes, ``according to whether it was Archie or Reggie wearing the tighter slacks that day.''
Betty has little good to say about her female bandmate. ``In the first place,'' she says, ``Ronnie had no reason to care what kind of songs we were playing. All she had to do was bang a tambourine on her ass, but even that was too much for her to handle. When we were in the studio the sound engineer made sure there wasn't a live mike within fifty feet of her. ``In the second place, it shouldn't come as a surprise to anyone that Veronica was two-faced. She needed the extra face because the first one was usually busy, if you know what I mean. It was like having a groupie right there in the band.''
While Veronica's affairs with Archie, Reggie, and Jughead are well documented, she has neither confirmed nor denied Betty's other claims. ``Ronnie did it with Fred Andrews (Archie's Father), a roadie named Moose, and out booking manager, Mr. Flutesnoot,'' Cooper says. ``And I know she'll deny it, but one night she made it with two-thirds of Jose and the Pussycats--- the black one and the dumb one.'' With the band in constant Turmoil, it was Archie himself who delivered the groups death blow. In late 1970 he had shed the influence of his mother but had taken up with a model-turned-racecar driver Penelope Pittstop, described by Betty as ``pure white trash.'' Pittstop sat on a stool next to Archie during the practice sessions, and gradually began making critical comments about the musicianship of the other band members. ``At one point she told Jughead to lay off the high hat, and Juggie just went berserk,'' Betty recalls. ``He was so mad, he actually opened his eyes.'' Though there was no official breakup, the rest of the Archies simply stopped coming to rehearsals, and by the end of the year had gone their separate ways.
Reggie formed the blues rock ensemble known as Mantle is God, but his ponderous, arty arrangements and egocentric lyrics failed to find an audience. The group's only album foundered at the bottom of the Top 100. Jughead toured briefly with the Banana Splits, but the association ended disastrously after his famous on-stage fight with Fleagle in Monterey in 1971 Archie and Penelope Pittstop recorded one album together, a drippy collection of flower-power mush that failed to chart. After the two split up, he turned to writing commercial jingles. Betty continued her work on GRUNDYLAND, finally releasing the collection of psychedelic organ solos at the height of disco in 1977. ``The timing wasn't great,'' she admits. In 1980, Jughead persuaded Betty to join him and rhythm guitarist Dilton Doiley in a band named after and fronted by radical lesbian Big Ethel. The group proved to be too much punk-oriented for Betty, she left in protest after Big Ethel ripper her shirt open during an appearance on ``Saturday Night Life.''
Ironically, Veronica has enjoyed the longest uninterrupted post-Archies music career, working steadily as a session tambourinist. ``Even after all these years, Archie's the only one who ever suggests an Archie reunion.'' says Cooper. ``But nobody's interested because we all know he still owns that same set of drums with his name on them.''
We all have stages - I hope I can be with you on one of yours...
Magilla
