The story thus far: a quarter century ago, four guys rented a house in Whitestone, Queens, New York. They were in their early twenties, weren’t going to school, and held down ordinary jobs. This was a recipe for heavy partying, and the parties they threw, dubbed "Blue Whale Bashes" for the tropical drink of the time, became legendary in the neighborhood. Eventually, they realized that music was needed to liven up the parties, so they ventured down to the basement where they found guitars and equipment left behind by a previous tenant. In that basement, after one or two permutations, The Fleshtones were formed.
"It’s good to be around for Sound Check 2001...". Still fueled by their basement desire to get people dancing and having fun, The Fleshtones greet the new millennium playing and recording as vitally as ever. All four band members live within blocks of each other in Brooklyn. Guitarist Keith Streng is the original Queens housemate in the band; co-founder Marek Pakulski left in 1987, replaced by Ken Fox two and a half years later. Singer and harmonica player extraordinare Peter Zaremba came over one afternoon, joined in with the band, and never left. One day in early 1980, Streng and Pakulski, eating lunch at the Stage Restaurant on Second Avenue near St. Mark’s Place, complained loudly about their need for a steady drummer. In a classic hustle, Bill Milhizer, sitting nearby, overheard, introduced himself, and has been a Fleshtone—and a Fleshtone fan—ever since.
"We’re all just really good friends," Streng said recently on the roof of his apartment where The Fleshtones were gathered for an impromptu photo shoot orchestrated by Keith’s wife, Anne, "and we love to make rock and roll together." The Fleshtones were once considered outcasts in the fabled CBGB’s scene of the late seventies. A second-generation band after The Ramones and Blondie, they missed the club’s vault into national limelight, but with their spirited blend of fifties rhythm and blues, sixties garage rock, and timeless joie de vivre they never really fit in on the Bowery anyway. "They called us a ‘mindless twist band’," remembers Streng of some folks back then. "Our punk rock was different."
They were soon playing weekends at CBGB’s, but the band found a regular home a little further north at legendary Max’s Kansas City. "NOBODY was dancing," remembers Norton Records’ Miriam Linna, then a regular on the East Side scene who was derided by one club’s management for pushing tables and chairs to the side so she and her friends could dance. "I mean, people have a hard time fathoming what that whole scene was like, but nobody danced! Each member of The Fleshtones was trying to encourage people to get up." The band got their wish at Club 57 on St. Mark’s, a small Polish Student League-turned-dancefloor where the band charged a buck a beer and where their fans could dance, dance, dance.
Eventually, impresario Marty Thau signed them to Red Star Records, which promptly folded before a full-length Fleshtones album was released. Undaunted, The Fleshtones won a "Battle of the Bands" at New York University, gigged in the city and up and down the east coast, and wowed fans with their memorable entrances and even more memorable exits, which usually involved a band-led conga line out the door of the club. I.R.S Records signed them in 1980, and the band enjoyed roughly five years as label-mates with The Cramps, R.E.M., and others. Zaremba landed a monthly spot on MTV hosting "The Cutting Edge," the raw and lively precursor to "120 Minutes." The Fleshtones were soon playing all around the world and making lots of rock & roll, and they continue to do so for passionate and dedicated fans.
Up on the roof in Brooklyn, Anne Streng managed to shoot one roll of film. As the sun retreated rapidly behind the Empire State Building, she gamely packed her camera and gathered up her daughter. The four Fleshtones left the roof discussing rehearsals, dinner plans, and an upcoming mini-tour in the South, enduring uncooperative daylight like it’s any other bump in the long rock and roll story.
But at least they’ve finally got their Gold record.