The Great Speckled Bird Dec 10, 1970
Atlanta has had Radar for about two years now, and still
isn't aware of it. Besides the hunk Rock freaks who are subtly possessed and
those insane followers from Radar's roots in Sandy Springs, there exists few
people whose spirits are lifted by the prospects of a Radar performance. This
is an oddity, for Radar is one of the three Rock groups in Atlanta who have
something to offer with their music. There are other groups with potential, but
Hampton Grease, Booger, and Radar are the only ones who've matured to a point
of originality and performance to rate acclaim.
I first heard Radar early on a warm Sunday in the Park during the
season of 1969. Their material was fresh and away from the trends, but in the
time passed they've unified the band and the music into a strong solid drive
that excites and arouses. They've shown a growth in every performance, new
material, new blends for old material, personalities, exploring each component
of the Radar music for its maximum effect. They are four intense personalities
who* have found that hard slot they best move together in, their energies
providing a full cycle of lyrical motion and entertainment through one set.
Characters
Jim Cobb is a product of music, dressed like he just pulled off
his tie leaving church, bedroom slippers, and his notebook of song charts under
his arm. Performing, Cobb's bass draws motion from his open imagination,
single-noting his runs through tight elative patterns that illustrate his knowledge
and skill with the bass, innovative and progressive, yet he retains that purity
and spirit of the early Rock that stormed our culture into its^ eventual
recycle. Jim's vocals are handled with a comparative fervor, loose with his
casual yet forward manner, filled by that drive and whole with the Radar
motion. Chris Cornish once seemed a rather plain and sober guitarist, but he is
coming out as his musician's confidence builds. His quality is not in being a
"lead" guitarist, but a tasteful component of the whole. He listens
and moves in where it's needed, never overpowering the group sound with flashy
up-front runs, an attitude used by George Harrison when he filled in the gaps
for the Beatles. Meanwhile, Chris is nodding his body, making faces, and stretching
into the mike to make his disciplined and capable voice perform for Radar.
Singing the tales of noble reptilic monsters and senior class tragedies, his
unique style and animated personality form the delivery and excitement.
Ottie Offen is all hunked up with motion. His skills, torn by a
spectrum of influence, collect into successive flows through the progressions
and burst into spiraling riffs in between, occasionally becoming a little too
crowded during these peaks, but most often his piano is contributing to their
entity. Ottie's voice has a slight gravel vibrato and inflections that hint
soul roots, violent, compassionate as he pours his dynamics into the swell of
Radar.
Crazy Tony Garston addresses his drumming much the same erratic
way he listens or talks. He's constantly involved in finding new patterns and
changes to give the music, never content with those tired patterns that makes
Rock repetitious and horny. Tony pounces right out on top of you when you least
anticipate his explosions. But Radar is rarely humble, and justly so, therefore
it makes sense.
These four heroes concentrate to make the Radar music we fans all
know and love. Even that "old war horse" of Cobb's, the Mozle, is
still stirring excitement, and more so than before for Radar |s always learning
new tricks. Review
Radar's climactic performance of the Mozle '70 highlighted their
last Gate: appearance, October 23. Their deranged following jammed the room to
get their dues, and ever faithful Radar gave their all. The whole place was
syncopated with that "motion" as Radar pumped out their music. Such
favorites as "Jailhouse Rock",' "Louie, Louie", and a
"Whole Lotta Love" complete with destructive finale, shook the old
house full that night. The clear feeling of their originals stimulated an aura
of rushing excitement that peaked and calmed in complete cycles. 1 especially
relish their performances of Chris's "Swashbuckler," Ottie's
"Georgia Moon," the blend of Cobb's "Heavenly Heartache"
with Ottie's "American Mag," and Cobb's two new songs introduced that
weekend, "Long, Long Way" and "White Sun," which
illustrated his maturing as a writer and arranger.
The excitement eased and nearly subsided as piano-bar-style
hip-medley-man Joel Osner played a terribly boring guest set, but was
reinstated as Radar opened their final set with a one-act installment of
"The Adventures of Lightning Lad," a serial that is dedicated to good
and evil simultaneously. The material, the antics, the between song patter, it
cycles and Radar is always fun. Projection
Friday and Saturday evenings, December 4 & 5, the 12th Gate
once again proudly presents Radar for your pleasure and elation. Ottie tells me
that Radar has five new numbers to display and further "Adventures of
Lightning Lad." I expect Radar's following to grow, in a town with so many
people there should be absolute sell-out crowds to see a band this good,
therefore it may be advisable to come early. It is well worth the effort and
more than worth the lousy dollar admission.
Ñuncle tom
Vol. 4 #17 pg.
24
RADAR !
BUSTED
Acting on a tip
from their usual reliable sources, the GBI pulled a vehicle raid New Year's Eve
on several cars in Tifton, Georgia, suspected to be hauling distributional
quantities of illegal narcotics. If their tip had any factual foundation to it,
the culprits eluded the long
arm of the law.
However, the GBI was able to arrest Radar, along with some friends and Tifton
acquaintances whom they had met at the gig they played that evening at Abraham
Baldwin Agricultural College. The only contraband found was about a quarter
ounce of marijuana and a little less than a gram of hashish: the straight press
in Atlanta and Tifton also reported some amphetamines, but it seems that was
merely a media invention. The GBI were hardly pleased with their find and were
almost apologetic to Radar. One agent was reported to have said, "We're
after the trees, not the leaves."
The ultimate
results of all this was but one conviction and sentence. Jimmy Cobb, bass-vocal
and leader of Radar, was sentenced to sixty days in Tifton County Jail. This of
course, means that Radar will be out of action for this period of time, already
having to cancel their appearance
with Spirit and Trapeze this past Sunday. It's actually a good thing for the
other two groups, for with a good wind Radar would have blown them off the
stage.
Ñuncle tom