“Cocaine Drain” (Omnivore Recordings)
By Eleni P. Austin
For music nerds, nothing is more thrilling than the prospect of unreleased recordings from a favorite artist. No doubt, it’s the allure of the unknown. Of course, there are myriad decisions that happen behind the scenes, sometimes a record label isn’t satisfied with the finished product, often, there are creative differences. But that rarely matters to a dedicated fan.
Happily, a few legendary “Lost” albums have seen the light of day, like The Who’s Lifehouse, The Beach Boys’ SMiLE and Prince’s infamous Black album. But several remain moldering in the vaults, they include Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young’s Human Highway, David Bowie’s The Gouster, Marvin Gaye’s Love Man, Pink Floyd’s Household Objects, Jeff Beck’s The Motown Album and Jimi Hendrix’ Black Gold. Thankfully, The Cowsills’ unreleased 1978 album, Cocaine Drain has finally escaped vinyl purgatory and has just been made available by the cool kids at Omnivore Recordings.
The last few years have seen a kind of career renaissance for The Cowsills that rivals the band’s late ‘60s heyday. 2022 saw the release of the family band’s first new music in 24 years. Two years later, their long out-of-print effort, Global was rereleased. If you’re unfamiliar, The Cowsills were a family band that originated in Newport, Rhode Island. They were the inspiration for the hit ‘70s TV series, The Partridge Family.
Along with the rest of America, oldest brothers Bill, Bob and Barry Cowsill had their minds blown when they watched The Beatles’ American television debut on the Ed Sullivan Show. Within a year, the preternaturally talented trio became The Cowsills, Bill and Bob on guitars, and Barry on drums. When he switched to bass, younger brother John took Barry’s place behind the kit. Rather quickly, the nascent four-piece began making a name for themselves in their hometown.
When their father, Bud, retired from a career in the Navy, he began managing the band, they wound up releasing a handful of singles released via independent labels. That changed when Leonard Stogel took over for Bud and they signed with a well-known label, MGM Records. At that point, their mother joined the band, and they recorded their first hit single, “The Rain, The Park And Other Things.” Released in 1967, the only thing that kept the song from reaching #1 was The Monkees’ “Daydream Believer.”
Over the next three years, the band, which expanded to include younger siblings Paul and Susan, went on to record five long-players. They reached the upper echelons of the charts a couple more times, hitting #7 with their sunny original, “We Can Fly.” The sugary “Indian Lake” (song foisted on them by Bud), made it to #10. Their iconic take of “Hair,” from the counterculture musical of the same name, was produced and arranged by Bill and Bob and shot to #2.
Unfortunately, Bud asserted parental control at every turn. He insisted Barbara join the band, but irrationally excluding Richard, Bob’s twin and pressured him into military service at the height of the Vietnam war. But left to their own devices, Bill and Bob thrived, unleashing their protean talent. Their original music split the difference between Psychedelia and Sunshine Pop. Following one too many clashes with his dad, Bud kicked Bill out of his own band. Bob dutifully shouldered the load, soldiering on with the family band, who by now had relocated from Rhode Island to Santa Monica.
Television execs spent time with The Cowsills, intent on creating a sitcom tailored to the family’s musical strengths. The deal fell apart when the network was willing to cast the Cowsill kids, but only if Shirley Jones played their mom. ABC wound up casting singing-actors, including future teen heart-throb David Cassidy. The series aired on Friday nights for four seasons.
While the band averaged 200 live performances a year, by the early 70s, they discovered they were virtually penniless and actually owed back taxes on money they had never seen. Realizing their financial woes were due to Bud’s mismanagement, the band quietly disbanded.
Professionally, the siblings went their separate ways. Bill moved to Canada and had some modest success with his band The Blue Shadows. Bob returned to school, working in the medical profession by day and playing shows in the evening. Susan has sustained the highest profile, first performing with Dwight Twilley Band in the early ‘80s, then a decade later, as part of The Continental Drifters. The shambolic super-group included future sister-in-law, Vicki Peterson as well as Susan’s first husband, ex-dB, Peter Holsapple. Having relocated to New Orleans, she has carved out an intriguing solo career, with the help of current husband, Russ Broussard. She has released a few well-received albums.
John has remained a working musician, for more than two decades he pounded the drum kit, played keys and added backing vocals to Mike Love’s touring version of the Beach Boys. Along with his wife, Vicki Peterson (of The Bangles) and old pal Bill Mumy, formed The Action Skulls and the trio released three albums. Paul worked behind the scenes as a road manager and later formed the band Bridey Murphy with Waddy Wachtel (Cowsills’ musical mentor, Waddy was already a legendary session player who went on to tour and record with heavy hitters like Linda Ronstadt, Warren Zevon and Stevie Nicks). Bill, Barry and John were briefly involved on the A side of the band’s one and only single, “The Time Has Come,” a brilliant slice of Power Pop goodness.
Meanwhile, Barry was every inch the hardcore troubadour, leading the life of a nomadic musician, He recorded two idiosyncratic solo efforts that are well worth seeking out. He was living in New Orleans near Susan when Hurricane Katrina hit in 2005, while Susan’s family evacuated, he chose to ride the storm out. He went missing and his body was located months later.
In early 2006, at Barry’s memorial, the family was informed that Bill had succumbed to myriad health issues and passed away. The Cowsills have endured their share of heartache. Barbara passed away from emphysema in 1985, and Bud lost his battle with Leukemia in 1992. Sadly, Richard, who occasionally performed with the band (once Bud stopped calling the shots), passed away in 2014. Of course, the spirited documentary film Family Band: The Cowsills, from Louise Palanker, frames their story in more elegant and poignant terms.
Happily, the last several summers, Bob, Susan and Paul (and sometimes John), have performed as The Cowsills along with other vintage ‘60s acts like The Turtles, Gary Puckett and Jay & The Americans. New Cowsills music emerged in 2022. This year, John and Vicki released a pretty perfect album, “Long After The Fire, spotlighting songs written by Bill and Barry throughout the years. Now, finally, Cocaine Drain is being released for the very first time.
The record opens with the title track, written by John Hall (of Orleans’ “You’re Still The One {that can scratch my itch” eek!} fame, later a Democratic Congressman). Barbed guitars brush up against indolent bass lines, bendy keys and a conga-fied beat. The melody shares some musical DNA with the Warren Zevon/Jackson Browne classic, “Tenderness On The Block.” Susan’s honeyed contralto lands somewhere between Bonnie Raitt’s Bluesy grit and Linda Ronstadt’s grandiloquent ache. Unsparing lyrics tackle L.A.’s powdery fixation: “I remember you, when you were the talk of the town, you always said hello and goodbye, you looked me right in the eye, I could be sure of you, you’d never lie, you’re so different now, ae you going down that cocaine drain?” Slack Key-tastic rhythm guitars collide with a speedy electric solo that somersaults across the break.
Even though they were no longer part of the zeitgeist, this iteration of the band, which included Bob, John, Paul, Susan (and occasionally Barry) were at the top of their game. The lion’s share of the tracks here are Cowsill originals, and their songwriting skills are honed to a knife’s edge. Take “Gettin’ Ready,” a low-key charmer powered by tensile guitar riffs, icy keys, thrumming bass and an akimbo beat. The siblings wrap their trademark harmonies around lyrics that revolve around a carnal connection: “When I’m feelin’ like a caged-up tiger, I just have to let you know, then you’ll be comin’ right over, and that excitement’s gonna rise up in me, knowin’ that you’re gonna be (gettin’ ready). Bramble-thick guitars uncoil on the break, underscoring the concupiscent ache.
Completely flipping the script, is the cowpoke lament of “Thinking Of You.” Drawling guitars, shimmery electric piano and loose-limbed bass lines are tethered to a clip-clop gait. The loneliness feels palpable as Susan’s keening vocals assay the depths of heartbreak. The opening couplet says it all: “I never knew that loving you could go on without loving me.” She spends the next three minutes navigating the rocky shoals of a broken romance: “Alone, moving slow, no place that I can go, all the way down this long lonesome road, until I’m with you, I will feel the way I do, so I’ll spend every day, every night, thinking of you.”
Meanwhile on “Dance In A Dream,” is a propulsive Rocker that weds brawny guitars, lithe bass and zig-zag keys to a driving back-beat. Lyrics like “Got your head in a halo, feet planted firm on the ground, can’t hold out any longer, need to let you know I’m around,” toggle between mixed signals and mutual attraction. A squiggly guitar solo mirrors the lyrical one-step forward, two-steps back.
The best tracks here find the Cowsills expanding their musical horizons. “Is Your Love Alive?” was supposed their stab at the era’s most popular genre, Disco. But it didn’t quite work out that way. Although it’s anchored by a four-on-the-floor beat, the arrangement explores more wide-open spaces, as shang-a-lang guitars connect with slithery bass and wily keys. Susan’s voice is up front, but hereditary harmonies lock into a groove, as lyrics focus on resuscitating a flatlining romance.
“That Particular Way” is a stylistic 180 that finds The Cowsills exploring the twitchy angularity of New Wave. Guitars slash and sway atop lean bass lines, buoyant keys to a crisp backbeat. Lyrics offer a bitter kiss-off to possessive ex: “You wanted to own me, you wanted to hold me down baby, I’m not the kind to be loved in that particular way.”
Finally, “Bitter Jest” is a meandering, minor-key masterpiece. Susan seems lost and forlorn, as sunshiny guitar licks glide around her shoulder, ahead of a walking bass line, slinky keys and a kick-drum beat. Lyrics offer a blunt treatise on what Bad Company once referred to as good lovin’ gone bad: “When I wasn’t looking Babe, I feel in love with you, you said you couldn’t make it alone and you needed me too, now the road you’re on is turning round a different bend, and when I said I’d follow you, I never thought it would end, and now the days are longer, nights are colder without you, there was a time when I was meant for you, I tried my best but love paid me a bitter jest.” It’s “getting better” on the break as choppy rhythm riffs and jaggy Jazzy 9th chords coalesce, adding a bit of Fab Four heft. The boys up the ante, unspooling a series of filigreed licks that spiral with serpentine grace.
Although they are interesting, the songs penned by outside writers lack the familial finesse found on The Cowsill originals. The see-saw melody and busy arrangement of “Give Me A Chance” might as well be date-stamped 1978. “I Will Always” is a perfect showcase for Susan’s nuanced vocals, but not much else. Then there’s “Part Of Me,” which is mired in melodrama, all the while cocooned by Yacht Rock excess (the Pablo Cruise kind, not the Steely Dan kind).
The original album was meant to close on “Dance In A Dream,” but the band and producer Chuck Plotkin had found their collective groove. So, they recorded another five tracks, meant for a follow-up album.
Left to their own devices, The Cowsills recorded five originals that play to their strengths, rather than worrying where the music might fit on Top 40 radio. That means the alt.country Rock of “You Got A Way To Make Me Smile” (which pre-dates R.E.M.’s “Don’t Go Back To Rockville” by more than five years) is fueled by their emblematic harmonies.
“The Next In Line” blurs the lines between Country, Rock and New Wave. Spring-loaded guitars, wiry bass and a pounding backbeat are matched by Susan’s insistent vocals as she chases down a reluctant Romeo.
The best of the bonus tracks are “Couldn’t It Be Love” and “Say You Love Me.” The former simply swaggers with authority as staccato guitar riffs partner with Honky-Tonk piano notes, agile bass lines and a badass Bo Diddley beat. Susan’s emphatic vocals ping-pong between exasperation and genuflection, as lyrics attempt to salvage a relationship that’s fraying at the seams: “You complain about the things I say, make me walk a thin line, I’m all over you when things don’t go my way, talking you down the same line, but I’m looking to make it right, I want to cut out the fight, we don’t need another showdown, let’s settle it baby for tonight.” A stinging guitar solo struts across the break, reflecting the emotional ambiguity. It’s a rollicking roller coaster ride.
The latter takes the siblings back to their ‘60s roots as Byrdsy guitars take flight, soaring above stripped-down rhythm riffs, nimble bass lines, stealthy keys and a boomerang beat. Of course, Susan’s melismatic voice takes center stage as she takes an indecisive lover to task: “Words are complimentary every day, but something you don’t say gets in your way, is your vocabulary incomplete, or are you just afraid, why don’t you give me what I need?” Sinewy guitars ricochet through the mix, bookended by the band’s always impeccable harmonies.
The album closes with another winner, “Fallin’ For You.” Landing somewhere between quirky New Wave and sharp, Girl Group energy, springy guitars, wiggly synths, wiry bass and a caffeinated beat converge. Somehow, the Cowsills managed to anticipate the Go-Go’s signature sound, three years ahead of their Beauty And The Beat debut.
Clearly, short-sighted label executives couldn’t figure out a way to market a family band whose impeccable harmonies were matched by sharp arrangements and sparkling melodies. The real “problem” is that, try as they might, The Cowsills’ sound had nothing in common with the prevailing musical trends of the late ‘70s.
But the beautiful thing about this family is they keep plugging away. Music is in their blood, they keep making it, keep playing it. Despite the hardships and setbacks, the missed opportunities, the inherent cruelty of the music biz. And thank fucking God. Cocaine Drain is another integral piece in the brilliant mosaic that is this band.
