A Cub Koda Story submitted by Dave Chavers
(A.K.A. "Jukebox Dave")




I only caught the late, great, and never sedate rocker/composer/music historian/journalist twice on the tube; the first, as a bleary eyed teenager, trying to stay up during "midnight special" to see Brownsville Station rip through their latest hit "Kings Of The Party". I distinctly recall Cub, in his outrageous glam duds and oversized specs (hey, I wore 'em too—the specs that is) introduce the band like this (or somehting close): "Hi. We're Brownsville Station. Now there ain't too much else to watch on TV this late at night besides us, but if you wanna flip around a little bit and see what's playin' on the other stations, go right ahead—we'll wait!..." And Cub did, arms folded, smirk across his face, for about a minute. Then he confidently resumed, saying, "See? Told ya!" Then they launched into " Kings Of The Party", proving of course, that they really were. The man had it all, especially a sense of humor.

Next time I saw Cub on the boob box, it was fifteen years later, and he was wearing a Santa hat, blasting away at "Run, Run, Rudolph" on some local New Hampshire long forgotten country music show—my best Yuletide present that season.

Sometime in between, I was fortunate enough to catch Cub Koda in person (the very best way, by the way) at a small beach club near my home (cozy enough that I could hang very near the stage and witness my idol in action). Instead of a grab-bag of Brownsville "hits," Cub was content (and confident) enough to take us on a musical mind-trip through blues, hard rock, R&B, country, surf, pop, rockabilly (you pick a genre), climaxing, of course, with that all-time juvey delinquent singalong anthem "Smokin' In The Boys Room". A better night of boogie I have not experienced since! ...And all for eleven bucks!!!

I also fondly recall "The Cub Koda Crazy Show," which he broadcast for several weeks on WCGY on Saturday nights, cherry-picking the very best obscure sides of rock 'n’ R&B to share with his listeners, interspersed with his unique comical deejay patter.

Now I find myself reading his books/liner notes, digging on his solo stuff, and wishing the Brownsville catalogue would miraculously make it to CD (I'll hang onto my albums, just in case!). Cub may have gone to that great greasy gig in the sky, but I've still got countless treasures to remember him by.

(If you have a story about Cub, something funny, how you met, etc., please email them to: webmaster@cubkoda.com so that they can be added for others to enjoy!)