RASPBERRIES
Back In Season

By M. Wyckoff

Years after their first crop of hits, Eric Carmen and the Raspberries are on the road again cranking out deliciously catchy power pop.

Everyone credits punk with being the first movement to give the finger to pretentious '70s rock. But years before that belief was accepted as fact, a very different kind of genre was waging war against rock's self-satisfied set.

In 1972, as virtuoso "prog-rock" acts like Yes, Jethro Tull and ELP ruled the airwaves, the Raspberries stormed out of Cleveland with what became known as "power pop," a sound meant to slam rock back to Earth.

"When AM switched to FM, the focus went from tunesmiths to technicians," explains Raspberries front man Eric Carmen. "We felt the music became less fun than what we grew up with. And we sensed a void."

The Raspberries—whose very name is a tiny blow against the empire—proposed to fill it with punchy three-minute songs, yearning harmonies and the kind of focused branding that launched the original British invasion.

Over the course of four albums, Carmen (lead vocals, rhythm guitar, keyboards), Wally Bryson (lead vocals, lead guitar), Jim Bonafanti (drums) and Dave Smalley (lead vocals, bass) racked up several classic hits such as "Go All the Way," "Tonight" and "Overnight Sensation." Later, Carmen had a No. 1 solo smash with "All By Myself" and an '80s comeback with "Hungry Eyes" from the Dirty Dancing soundtrack.

But for the most part, the Raspberries' innovation was met with derision, misunderstanding and an early demise.

Now, 30 years down the line, the four original Raspberries have reunited for a series of concerts. One of them will be Friday at the House of Blues in Hollywood.

One of the biggest misunderstandings about the group surrounded their look: They wore matching suits at a time when everyone sported the hang-dog hippie look. "If I could take one thing back it would be those white suits," Carmen now laughs. "We wanted to make a statement visually." But audiences winced.

The band's first album cover also made a weird splash. It had a scratch-'n'-sniff strip that smelled like, you guessed it, fake raspberries. Retailers hated the stink. The group pleads ignorance. "We didn't see a cover of ours (in advance) until our fourth album," notes Carmen.

They blame their record company, Capitol, for generally mismarketing them. Carmen also says the band "had the worst sound systems, the worst stages and the worst management."

The resulting pressures caused them to split in '74. Promoters dangled money at them to reunite in 1999. But after several other '70s reunion tours failed to pay off, those offers vanished. A few band members (without Carmen) went through with a semi-reunion and released an album under the Raspberries' name in 2000, though few took notice.

Only now have the original four been able to come together, their differences smoothed by time and a love of the sound they started. "A certain mythology has grown up around the band after 30 years," says Carmen. "We didn't want to come back until we felt we could play and not pop that bubble."

While Carmen has made his living as a musician, his bandmates have found other careers: Smalley is a respiratory therapist, Bryson works with the disabled, and Bonafanti is a car buyer.

But Carmen says they've all kept their chops. "Thanks to good attitudes and new technology, we sound better than we ever did!"

The reunion has put Carmen back into a "power pop frame of mind," songwriting-wise. "Playing with the band has certainly rekindled some of the rock 'n' roll thoughts I used to have," he admits. "I think if I were to do anything now, I would think about writing something for this band. We haven't gotten to anything specific. But I think we could. We just have to see if there's anybody there who wants to buy it."

Ventura County Star / October 20, 2005