WE WERE A BUNCH OF PALLIES, OR "ME, THE MOB, AND THE MUSIC: ONE HELLUVA RIDE WITH TOMMY JAMES AND THE SHONDELLS," BY TOMMY JAMES
You know Tommy James and the Shondells even if you don't think you do. Think"Mony Mony," "Crystal Blue Persuasion," "I Think We're Alone Now," "Crimson and Clover" - you know - that guy.
If you did happen to think about the guy, you'd probably assume he'd have the usual musician bio - finding his voice, getting caught up in the record business, probably going broke or addicted to drugs, finding some sort of spirituality, and finally ending in triumph with a new marriage or music.
And you'd be pretty close. Except that not only does James' biography includes all the usual memoir beats, there's a pretty strong mafia plot as well! Do the two tastes compliment each other, like a peanut butter cup? Reader, they do!
James caught the rock and roll bug early, playing frat parties as a young teenager (and developing a taste for booze and pills around the same time, as well as becoming a teenaged dad). From there it's constant playing and touring, recording records in people's garages or back rooms and scoring a regional hit.
Then James signs with Morris Levy, record company owner, manager, and member of the Genovese crime family. From the moment Levy enters the scene, it's hard not to hear Ray Liotta's "Goodfellas" voiceover, especially with lines like "Morris would always rather make ten cents illegally than a thousand dollars honestly."
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| Now write me another "Crimson and Clover." |
While Levy's business practices were less based on royalties and more on, "Here, just have a couple of grand," James comes to respect and like Levy, and while he surely didn't get all he was entitled to, there's a large chance he'd be in the same boat with more respectable record businessmen at the time. Or now. Just ask your favorite artist how much money they've made streaming.
The story is over by 1974 when a major gang war erupts and James heads to Nashville to hide out and record a new project. The Liotta voice comes in again, with lines like "After the final gig we were taken back to the airport, and I boarded a plane with a bucket of fried chicken and a .22 automatic pistol that had eluded Morris's search and I had hidden in the bucket of chicken. Nobody ever knew."
7/10. James had a pretty major pill and booze habit. There's also all that Mafia business, where Levy is not above getting some baseball bat wielding thugs to bust up some bootleggers or renegotiate a contract.
Opens in Media res?
Yep. Its 1990, and James just came from Levy's deathbed and starts talking to an interviewer, making the whole book one big interview, kinda like "Interview with a Vampire," only with less puffy shirts. Actually, considering the time period, probably about the same amount of puffy shirts.
Could We Hang?
Probably. Dude comes off pretty entertaining, and you'd at least get some interesting stories. Probably wouldn't want to be married to him or anything, though.
You Might Remember Me From, or, My Totally Biased View of the Author's Best Stuff:
James is a total, "Oh, he did that song, too" guy where you know more songs than you think you did. In my mind, dude would be a legend just for "I Think We're Alone Now" and "Crimson and Clover," two "bad jams" as the kids used to say.
Percentage of Music in the Bio
Let's say 40 percent. James has a tale to tell, and while he might not be seen as serious a musician as some of the other bios covered here, he is dedicated and a music fan first and foremost.
Buy, Borrow from the Library, or Pass
Totally worth reading. Pick it up cheap or borrow it. Be aware that that "Goodfellas" voice will seep into your subconscious, however.
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