Read this May 23 tribute post on Tommy Conwell and the Young Rumblers from WNST.net's Nestor Aparicio in Baltimore called, “Cause You’re Looking For a Hero.”
'Cause You're Looking For A Hero
by Nestor Aparicio, WNST.net
May 23, 2020
You had to be there.
Amidst the mad
scramble and #AlmostFamous testosterone and leather and lace and beer and sex,
drugs and rock and roll lore – and the allure, quite frankly – of
Hammerjacks Inner Harbor Concert Hall in the late 1980s, I had a unicorn unique
gig as the music critic at The Evening Sun.
I had a
one-of-a-kind, universal all access backstage pass. (I never told anyone that
they spelled my name wrong on it! Nestor with O, not Nester with an E…)
I showed up at
the back door in the alley behind the club whenever I wanted, hit a little red
button and smiled up at the camera – and they waved me in. Conservatively
guessing, this happened 500 times over six years.
I was born on
October 14, 1968. I started reviewing concerts there as often as three times a
week in March 1986.
You do the
monthly math.
Usually,
Mickey Cucchiella and Jill Deville and Ann Marie were my backstage conversation
foils while I took in the night of music and mayhem as an underage reporter
watching beer and bands and bar backs and girls and groupies and guitar techs
and band managers all zoom in various directions of fame, fortune – or
misfortune. Or as the song coyly says, “Miss Whatever-Her-Name-Was”…
My dude Bud
Becker, who promoted and retained all of the bands in the heyday, says I never
had a drink inside Hammerjacks as a kid and he is not lying. It wasn’t that I
was square – far from it – but I certainly didn’t want to get fired at the
newspaper because I clearly had one of the greatest gigs on earth.
Sobriety was
an easy ask and the only ask. At least that held until the Bad English show
happened on October 14, 1989. Then I got $1 beers and life somehow got even
better…
There were
always incredible national bands like Poison or KISS or Ozzy Osbourne on stage
and an endless stream of celebrities or wrestlers or athletes rolling through
Hammerjacks’ halls and walls. But it was the local rotation of hair metal and
great touring rock bands that ruled my memories of the incredible nights under
the freeway and the glowing blood orange neon light that entranced and called
every child of rock music in the region to “Hammers.”
If anyone asks
me the best show I ever saw, I usually tell them The Alarm at Hammerjacks.
(Their 1986 album “Strength” deserved to make my list. Perhaps this means
you’ll be subjected to even more #MusicalNes in the future?)
And if anyone
asks me about the best times I ever had at Hammers, it had nothing to do with
the sex or the drugs but it was all about the rock and roll for me and the many
times that Tommy Conwell and The Young Rumblers destroyed the place.
Conwell had
some Elvis, some real showman in him and was such a “kid sensation” in his
youth with Rocket 88. Everyone in Ocean City and the Jersey Shore knew about
him.
There was no
hype, no big record company shit with Tommy Conwell. He was managed and borne
of the same Cornerstone folks in Philadelphia who made The Hooters dance and
zombie their way into MTV fame as Cyndi Lauper’s band.
I literally
have no recollection of the first time I saw Tommy Conwell and the Young
Rumblers or how I even wound up at the show – but I couldn’t stop seeing them.
I still can’t!
 |
| TCYR - Friday, February 2, 1990 at Hammerjacks |
They were the
best band that ever regularly played at Hammerjacks. And if you ever saw them
there, you remember it.
There were
several nights when Conwell jumped on my shoulders and rolled around clubs in
several states – and states of sobriety – over the years. Michael Beatty and
Batman and boats at the beach. Booze cruises. And Network and A.L. Gators and
The Stone Balloon and the 8X10 Club and all of his incarnations of blues and
funk and rock and, well more blues. The Little Kings were cool, too!
Every night with Tommy Conwell and The Young Rumblers was a party.
And as much as I would recommend his previous EP, “Walkin’ On The Water” and a great song called “Do You
Still Believe In Me?” from that Philly street release, this 1988
album “Rumble” is the best rock album you’ve never heard.
“Everything
They Say Is True” and “Love’s On Fire” are just great songs.
Later on,
veteran local rocker Billy Kemp joined his band and then it just all ended kind
of quickly when Conwell didn’t sell enough records after his second album. I
saw him open for Thorogood one night at the Patriot Center in Fairfax and he
blew Lonesome George and Delaware Destroyers off the stage.
I’m sorry he
never became rich and famous but I am grateful for every workout!
Tommy Conwell
is still kinda a big deal around Philly – and a school teacher last I heard and
he shows up on the radio spinning new music and bands. He was always a swell
up-and-comer rock star that I cheered for and promoted. His brother played
football for the Philadelphia Eagles. So that was another sports connection.
 |
TCYR - Friday, February 2, 1990 at Hammerjacks
|
I knew Tommy
well and always tried to write about him and his travels. And I never missed a
Conwell show in Baltimore.
I have seen
Tommy Conwell and The Young Rumblers in tact just three times this century –
and all of the reunions are truly a joy for me in Philadelphia whenever I can
make it up there. These are the kinds of shows I miss with the Covid lockdown
great club shows and bar bands. And it makes me appreciate just more than the Rolling
Stones or Rush or Springsteen or Pearl Jam in my life.
I am so happy
to have had this music and this energy and joy in my life back in those days.
And just like
Tommy told it:
“There ain’t
no tomorrow baby, there’s just right now…”
Can I get a
“Hell yeah!”?
