A commonly shared consensus today is that bygone eras of music often yield some of the greatest songs. Pieces that bring generations together, pushing the limits of what was technically achievable at the time. Among those cherished pieces, one that effortlessly guides listeners into the mind of its creator, is Bruce Blackman’s “Moonlight Feels Right,” released in 1976. Each new piece of information learned about the front man of Starbuck, and this song, is akin to a sea jewel leading to a treasure trove bathed in moonlight.
When addressing the prevalence of “Moonlight Feels Right,” Blackman mentioned that it seems truly incredible. He had never expected such a thing, but believes it is wonderful. He credits the functionality of the internet, as both streaming radio and the internet make everything big. The sounds used to create the piece cannot be replicated today, and quite a lot of music created today is all computer sounds. Even though Starbuck incorporated synthesizers in their music, they had to be played manually. Nothing could play itself. Blackman says that today, artists can push a note on a track, and begin singing along with it.
Considering the world of today, and the presence of social media, artists have transformed the way they create music. Blackman says that there are a lot of artists, people who demonstrate their talent in singing. But on the other hand, there are many artists who are not talented, who merely became huge because they are a part of the machine. He mentioned that there are mainly three labels that exist today that control all radio. iHeartRadio, Townsquare Media, and Alpha Media. When Blackman toured throughout the 70s, he enjoyed tuning in to local radio, because of the different music it offered. Everything was different, every region had its culture. But things have changed significantly, and nowadays, there is a lot more music.
Within the opening chapters of his book, “The Road to Moonlight Feels Right,” Blackman encapsulates the cut-throat world he grew up in. A world, in which the influential figures of his childhood, instilled in him the lesson that success is dependent upon how badly you wanted something. He started out in music in the fourth grade, where twice a week, his class would participate in music lessons. They would learn to play tonettes, made of bakelite. Not only did he win a contest playing “Flight of the Bumble-Bee ” with it, but he would incorporate the instrument into recordings, as it sounded like a flute with a bit more air in it. Blackman still owns the trophy that he won from the contest, a small golden-colored plastic treble clef.
When word of Blackman’s musical capabilities traveled from his fourth grade music teacher, to the junior high band director, he was presented with a trumpet. The junior high band director told Blackman that he was going to be his first year trumpet player. The process continued on through fourth and fifth grade, till he went into the band. But it was not until he learned that one could not sing and play trumpet at the same time, did he make the switch to learning piano. But Blackman did not have a piano to play on in his home.
As a young boy, Blackman learned how to play piano through attending church. Unbeknownst to those who presumed he was the best little boy, he would sit in the front row towards the left, and observe the pianist’s hands while she played. Once service ended, Blackman would sprint to the back of the building, covering a distance that equated to two football fields, just to practice what he saw. While he could read music, it usually translated for positions on the trumpet, rather than a piano player. He was also influenced by big band arrangements. When people hear the synthesizers playing at the beginning of “Moonlight Feels Right,” he encourages others to think of a big band doing that. In addition , he was using a new instrument called a minimoog.
When asked to describe the 60s music scene, Blackman recalled being a part of the Laurel Canyon music scene, his band Eternity’s Children, and residing in Los Angeles. Three members of said band would also join Starbuck. They often interacted with the late Doug Ingle of Iron Butterfly, and record producer Terry Melcher. Not only was Melcher Doris Day’s son, but he was the producer of The Byrds. Once, Eternity’s Children played The Whiskey, and The Doors were their opening act. In an era defined by indulgence, Blackman decided to refrain from engaging with drugs, after an experience that did not jive with him.
“The bottom line was, we were just kids, and we wanted to make music. That’s all we knew, and we were all friends,” Blackman says.
Returning to the topic of Eternity’s Children, Blackman also mentioned Curt Boettcher and Keith Olsen. Olsen was Eternity’s Children’s producer, at the time they got their first record deal with A&M Records. One of the songs he produced was “Rumors,” which humorously mirrors him producing Fleetwood Mac’s “Rumors” album. Boettcher, meanwhile, recorded many of Blackman’s songs, such as “Mrs. Bluebird.” This genre of music was eventually known as sunshine pop. They recorded another song that Blackman wrote, called “Sunshine Among Us.” The studio had a grand harpsichord, and it was located in Dallas, Texas. Blackman also got to meet Sean Bonniwell, as Olsen was a bass player for “The Music Machine.”
Unfortunately, youthful naivety resulted in the band members signing with managers out of New Orleans. These managers were part of the Dixie mafia, and they took everything from the band. They forced them to live in motels, and left them with hardly any money to feed themselves. However, part of their contract was assigned to Kevin Deverich, the manager for Eric Burdon & The Animals. When Deverich learned of Blackman’s childhood growing up in Mississippi Delta, and his ability to play that music, he was elated.
Eternity’s Children once went on tour with the Blues Magoos. Blackman remembered one performance where he saw a royal guardsman VOX amplifier. It faced backwards, toward the microphone, and was used to help the singer hear themselves. This was a revelation to Blackman, who was acquainted with never hearing himself while singing onstage. Either the volume was too loud, or the PA speakers were located toward the front. This was especially the case when he played the Peter Marshall Variety Show. They played live, without any rehearsals, and there was no PA system. The microphones they provided were going through a cheap mixer, and since Blackman needed both his hands to play, he wasn’t able to cover one of his ears to find the proper pitch. He exclaimed that it was horrible. After that ordeal, they agreed they would not do another performance, unless his sound man was allowed to be in control.
During one summer, Blackman was preparing to take a world history course at Mississippi State. But after hearing the sound of cards shuffling while on his way there, he instead sat down to play a game of poker. Located on the wall was a photo, cut out of the newspaper. It shared the contestants of a beauty contest, specifically a young woman with green eyes whose radiance rivaled Elizabeth Taylor’s. Blackman was bewitched, immediately asking who she was, and where she went to school. He was told her name was Peggy Denman. By the next semester, he was registered at the school, hoping for the chance to meet her.
Blackman asked her out on a date twice, but on both occasions she declined. At the time, she was dating a football star. After asking her for the third and final time, she agreed. They remain in love, 51 years later. The story of how the couple fell in love was directly integrated into the lyrics of “Moonlight Feels Right.”
Starbuck earned their first record deal in 1970 through RCA Records, six years before “Moonlight Feels Right” would be written. Bo Wagner, their marimba player, had been playing out in Bakersfield beside a record producer named Gary S. Paxton, who engineered “Along Comes Mary” and “Cherish.” Both of these songs were hits for the band, The Association. Wagner, though, toured with The Fifth Dimension, and was Liberace’s music director. After Blackman parted ways from Eternity’s Children, Wagner was hired, because he liked what they were playing. But after learning the man responsible for writing those songs had left, Wagner followed. One day, in Atlanta during 1970, Blackman got a call from a stranger.
The man on the other end of the phone was Wagner, inviting Blackman and his wife to a Liberace show. They voiced their disinterest, but Wagner insisted, promising the couple they could come backstage and meet Liberace. Not only did they attend, but Wagner persuaded Blackman into putting a group together. After working for two weeks, the next thing that the group did was record an album in Nashville. Paxton helped them complete the album in four hours, and the deal with RCA Records followed soon after. The group was originally called “Mississippi,” but were instructed to change it, as a band from Australia had just been signed on with that name. That band would later become the Little River Band. When pitching ideas for another name, Blackman recalled a character from the novel “Moby-Dick,” named Starbuck.
Starbuck toured with everyone throughout the 70s. Including the likes of Electric Light Orchestra, Hall & Oates, KC and The Sunshine Band, Styx, and Atlanta Rhythm Section. Usually, Starbuck was the opening act, meaning that they had to face what Blackman labeled the “rock and roll pecking order.” Amusingly, it meant that they weren’t allowed to upstage anyone they were opening for. Yet, it did not stop them from getting thrown off some tours anyway, all because they outstripped the headliners. The group was unlike anything that had existed at the time, especially through their usage of the marimba and the minimoogs. During a show, for a headliner Blackman did not specify, people began stomping their feet, chanting for Starbucks’ return. Suffice to say, they did not last long for that tour, and were also promptly thrown off.
Anyone with a good eye can look at the back of the “Moonlight Feels Right” album, and see Blackman not wearing his identifiable white hat. When the piece gained traction, Blackman’s manager insisted that he needed more hair. So he was located at a place in Atlanta, where they shaved off the front half of his head, and sewed hair into his scalp. According to him, he walked out looking like Wolfman Jack. By the next day, everything was swollen, red, and infected. So his wife had to cut the stitches out with scissors.
But that same night, they were scheduled to take a red eye into Los Angeles, and perform on American Bandstand and Merv Griffin. Blackman had to cover his head, so his wife set out for Sunset Strip. She returned fifteen minutes later with a variety of hats for him to try, just before they were to go on stage. They agreed that the Kangol English cap looked the best, and the signature look persisted throughout television appearances. Soon enough, that was how people saw him, always wearing that white hat.
Three months later, Hamilton, Joe Frank, and Reynolds were opening for Starbuck in Kansas City. But afterwards, Blackman came on stage to play for an audience of over 10,000 people, but without wearing his hat. Suddenly, the crowd began stomping their feet, chanting “white hat.” His roadie raced out to the bus, fetched the hat, and returned to a standing ovation. From that point on, Blackman always wore it.
If someone is creating lyrics for their song, they should want the listener to be sitting on their shoulders. It’s about trying to help them see, feel, touch, hear, and smell, everything. Rather than writing words, the creator is painting a picture. Blackman himself does something more esoteric, where all meaning resides between the words, even in the silent places. He jokes, as he knows it sounds weird, but it works for him. One of the best preparations for excelling in poetry, he says, is simply learning how to write. An exercise he obtained from his English teacher, was arbitrarily coming up with three words. From there, he would write a song based around the selected words, and turn it into something that made sense. He mentions it is extremely difficult to achieve, but he still does it today. It’s much easier when inspiration strikes him.
When questioned about the younger generation’s gravitation towards songs of the past, he mentioned his visit to a popular nightclub in Atlanta, just a few months ago. He overheard a group of young women rush onto the dancefloor once KC and The Sunshine Bands’ “Shake Your Booty” began to play. It took him by surprise, because the song was hit before any of them were presumably born. Looking back on his senior year in high school, his generation was the first to embody rock and roll. The first record that he bought was “Love is Strange” by Mickey and Crew and Sylvia. But his mother would call it the devil’s music.
Blackman has met countless stars. Farrah Fawcett, Lee Majors, Dom DeLuise, Burt Reynolds, to name a few. But what he’s found most interesting, be it through encounters or sharing a meal with them, is that they never have a clever, perfect, or memorized line to say. With them, the world is different because no one is there. Blackman credits jazz pianist and composer Dave Brubeck, and composer and songwriter, Burt Bacharach, as the individuals who influenced him the most. He says one of the highlights of his life was talking about music, and having dinner with Bacharach, and Carole Bayer Sager. But he would have loved to have dinner with James Clavell, Andrea Bocelli, David Foster, Donald Fagen, and T.S. Elliot.
Just a few weeks ago, Blackman released a new single named “Beach a Go Go.” He’s had four number ones, and a number four in both the beach music and yacht rock market. He can penetrate about 50 to 100 stations in the adult contemporary market, and is often labeled as yacht rock, beach music, and trot rock. Blackman likes real players who play, and singers that sing. It’s the music he makes, and he knows there is a viable market for it. The yacht rock, trot rock, and beach music markets, appeal to 40 million people within the United States alone. He says that, if anyone wishes to be successful, they don’t have to be in the top 40. For Blackman, back in the 70s, Billboard had 4 charts. But today, it has over 200 categories.
There’s no telling the music people will be listening to 50 years from now. But if the quality of this song, and Blackman, are anything to go off of, then it’s safe to say both will be adored for generations to come. Information pertaining to upcoming projects, and Blackman’s memoir, can be found below. In addition, Starbuck’s rich catalog of songs are available to listen to there, and available for purchase. Ranging from the acclaimed “Moonlight Feels Right,” or the new classics of today. https://moonlightfeelsright.com/.
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