The J. Geils Band
The Morning After

If those dandies from Aerosmith – yes, I mean Aerosmith, the ones who spend more time with their trusty fashion hair stylist rather than in the recording studio just to make it big on MTV – are the hoodlums of Boston, then what are the Del Fuegos?

But more importantly, what about the J. Geils Band?

These questions are far from idle, considering that Boston, Mass., the equivalent of Detroit Rock City, is their trademark.

Of course, I'm talking about J. Geils Band and Del Fuegos.

Given that someone has already written about the Del Fuegos on these pages, I will try to write something about the J. Geils Band, of which there's no trace here.

The first point to clarify is that the band is named after J. Geils, but John Warren Geils – for the census clerks, J. for everyone else – is not the bandleader. It's like Bruce Springsteen not being at the helm of the E-Street Band or Tom Petty of the Heartbreakers.

John Warren founded the band back then together with two college mates, just to liven up the dances organized by the institution. Originally they were Snoopy & The Sopwith Camels, to emphasize their passion for reading the Sunday Peanuts strips and one of the fantastic characters that populate them. J. sings and plays guitar.

Then the story becomes serious, and Snoopy passes the baton to the J. Geils Blues Band.

Peter Wolf arrives, and John Warren hands him the microphone.

Seth Justman joins, introducing keyboards into the lineup.

So, they are the bandleaders, Peter and Seth. Their signatures are at the bottom of (almost) all the band's pieces. And when Peter leaves the group, due to the usual artistic misunderstandings, the group ends. Or at least it becomes another story, certainly less fascinating.

But before that, it's worth mentioning that the "blues" disappeared from the band name, leaving just the J. Geils Band. Ready to take off, as well or better than Snoopy's Sopwith Camel.

It's 1968.

The second point to clarify is that, at that time, the best way to appreciate the J. Geils Band was to attend one of their concerts.

Back then, I was two years old, and my parents wouldn't allow me to go to concerts – no concerts, let alone J. Geils Band shows – because there were hippies and too many drugs around. So, I made up by listening to records and watching videos. But I still don't know today if, at J. Geils Band concerts, one ran the risk of running into bad company and forbidden substances.

The third point to clarify is that the J. Geils Band had little to nothing in common with the hippies – the long-haired folks as they called them in Boston. They were indeed long-haired, but in the same way that Lynyrd Skynyrd or Bob Seeger were, gangsters of hairstyles and manners. Gangsters in the same way as the Rolling Stones with longer and more disheveled hair than Jagger and co., and perhaps that's why none of them were knighted. Yet, even today, for those few who bother to ask who the J. Geils Band were, this is the recurring answer: «The American Rolling Stones». In fact, they opened for several Rolling Stones concerts. But also opened for Emerson, Lake & Palmer and Black Sabbath. In short, they played their music, indifferent to the audience in front of them, at their own risk. And they survived every battle, always.

The fourth point to clarify is that the J. Geils Band, while on stage igniting fire and flame, were also capable in the studio of raising temperatures. The first three albums – the self-titled 1970 album, «The Morning After» from 1971, and «Bloodshot» from 1973 – are compelling evidence of the sound barrage that the J. Geils Band could unleash on vinyl.

Three equally deserving albums, and for those who love the genre, a must-have. It's soon explained which genre the J. Geils Band originally dabbled in, from blues to rock, soul to funky. Very black music played by whites, but no one had complaints.

My preference goes to «The Morning After», where two of the band's most overwhelming tracks – «I Don't Need You No More» and «Looking for a Love» – shine powerfully, as does the instrumental romp «Whammer Jammer», where harmonica player Magic Dick reigns, and the big soul ballad «Cry One More Time» which shortly thereafter would be covered by Gram Parson in his album «Grevious Angel».

The fifth and final point to clarify is that – having known both – if you prefer going to hell with an Aerosmith CD in the briefcase and a spritz in your right hand, I'll head to my own hell with the J. Geils Band vinyl under my arm and an ice-cold beer in hand.