A Cub Koda Story
submitted by Dave Chavers
(A.K.A. "Jukebox Dave")
CUB KODA: FROM BROWNSVILLE TO BLUESVILLE!...
HERE ARE JUST A FEW FOND MEMORIES
FROM A "CUB REPORTER":
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: firstname.lastname@example.org
so that they can be added for others to enjoy!)