Courtesy of Darryl Rhodes
Darryl Rhodes has been a fixture in Atlanta's music and comedy scenes since the 1970s. Born in 1950 and raised in Forest Park, Rhodes came of age during Atlanta's hippie movement centered around Piedmont Park and frequented the area's first rock clubs.
In 1975, he formed the Hahavishnu Orchestra (a play on the name of the groundbreaking jazz group the Mahavishnu Orchestra) with Darryl Rhodes, a 12-piece band that toured the country, often fusing over-the-top performance art with comedic, satirical songs. Rolling Stone Writer John Logan of MTV fame called Rose “one of the most gifted songwriters/performers working in America today” at the time.
Rose later formed the band Men from Grad, which rose to fame in Atlanta in the 1980s. In 1988, he turned to stand-up comedy. Although he still releases music, stand-up has become his primary focus.
He recently published a memoir. Nearing Achievement: The Depression Era . . . 1950-2024 The book is packed with tales of Atlanta's early rock scene, his wild stage acts, and his sharp sense of humor. Rose recently spoke to us about the book.
To borrow a phrase from the late Colonel Bruce Hampton, our culture is losing “individuality” – people who push the boundaries of what is considered normal. You've lived one of the most colorful lives imaginable. What inspired you to write a book, and how challenging was it to put those stories on paper?
I wrote the book after a few lifelong friends reminded me that the lifestyle many of us once lived no longer exists: Teen clubs are gone, fewer clubs promote original and diverse music, ticket prices have risen to make up for lost revenue from streaming music, and concerts are becoming harder to attend.
Bruce was right about losing “character,” but the problem is bigger than that. The birth of the influencer, the device of remote familiarity, and the sense of imitation rather than originality are making the world smaller. I wrote this book because I don't want someone to make up or change the story when I can no longer tell it.
You came of age and got into music during the “hippie era” in Atlanta, when kids were flocking to 10th and 14th streets and the city's first rock clubs were opening. How would you describe that scene to people who didn't experience it firsthand?
The atmosphere was very calming, I loved the music, the introduction to new sounds and smells (my first fog machine experience, which smelled like a Mercedes Benz with a leaking gasket, happened while playing in the Catacombs), and being surrounded by like-minded people.
I grew up in Forest Park but felt pretty isolated except for a few friends — it wasn't uncommon for construction workers to throw bottles at me from their trucks because of my hair. Being surrounded by people who were passionate about music and seemingly open-minded was a new world for me.
It was also when I learned how dangerous it could be to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. The police were always looking for a reason to search me, hoping for some reaction that would trigger them to handcuff me and throw me in the back seat. I have never done drugs, but I have been in two situations where my friends were arrested for drugs, and both times they were greeted by the cops at the door. I was released because I did not have drugs in my possession, but I don't know if everyone was treated that way.
I met so many wonderful people while working at the Catacombs, many of whom are sadly no longer with us. I was blown away when I heard Ellen McIlwain, who blew my mind as a lyricist, singer, and one of the best slide players I have ever heard. Many others became my mentors, including Joe South and Ray Whitley (both lyricists inducted into the Georgia Music Hall of Fame). These days, I can stand on the corner of 14th and Peachtree and not hear the ghosts; the traffic noise drowns them out.
Courtesy of Darryl Rhodes
When the Sex Pistols made their infamous North American debut at Atlanta's Great Southeast Music Hall in 1978, you performed with opening act Cruise-O-Matic. What was the excitement like?
I was asked to sit in at the end of their set and play a song I'd played many times with the Hahavishnu Orchestra, “Boot in Your Face.” It was a Ramones parody, but it still had the potential to upset punk fans, especially Sex Pistols fans. We knew there would be a backlash, in fact we were hoping for a backlash, and we got it.
Yes, it was a circus. I sat with them in the dressing room and everyone seemed nervous except for Sid Vicious. He seemed to be spinning in another galaxy. They were resistant when Cruise-O-Matic came onstage. Pistols fans probably hadn't heard “I'm a Girl Watcher” or “Secret Agent Man.”
When I was introduced I was wearing a baseball jersey with “Kill Me” spray painted on my chest. I had a giant safety pin made from a hanger stuck over my mouth and a very large safety pin made from welded metal wrapped around my waist to make it look as if I was running through my stomach. I was given a few tomatoes and enough eggs to make a small omelet. The Pistols had been warned not to spit on anyone, but I had not been warned and so I took the blame.
Courtesy of Darryl Rhodes
Your music career was marked by the legendary and infamous band Hahavishnu Orchestra. It was comedy, performance art and music. How do you feel looking back on that band?
it is, [Frank] Zappa, Bonzo Dog Band, The Tubes, and a few other bands that suited my tastes. I wrote then and I still write now, whatever fit my groove. I started out writing songs like “Leprosy Queen,” “The Song is Boring,” and “Suicide,” which were simple and funny, but so over the top that when you hear them, the impact just snowballed.
When I started dating [legendary New York City songwriter] Doc Pomus encouraged us and understood what we were doing from every angle. Martin Mull was a fan, but he saw us as rivals. I'm not criticizing him; he's one of my heroes. He told me it was humiliating when he had to follow us, but I understood what he meant. He would come on alone, sitting on a couch playing guitar, and perform well-crafted songs after a circus-like extravaganza with costumes, dancers, cross-dressing backup singers, and a very tight-knit band playing every style of music.
You did a lot of work on WTBS. And you were part of Tash Universe, the cutting edge comedy show hosted by Bill Tash in 1980 that launched many notable careers, including that of Jan Hooks. Saturday Night Live Cast members, and later 3rd Rock from the Sun and That '70s ShowWhat is your favorite memory from that show?
The segment where we impersonated the Johnny Carson show was hands down my favorite. Jan played the role of an egotistical famous singer and performed “I Am Woman,” a parody of Helen Reddy that I wrote back in my Hahavishnu Orchestra days. I was in a lime green leisure suit, a roadkill wig, and a Mr. T starter kit around my neck. Jan was as sweet and funny as advertised. She's appeared on several of my WTBS appearances and was always great, but this episode will always be the best for me.
Although you continue to release music, you turned to stand-up comedy in 1988. What prompted that move, and what were the biggest challenges compared to performing music?
Touring with 14 people is like herding cats: maintaining a large band with several vehicles on a national tour is tough enough, but when you add to that the challenge of doing it on a not-so-thin budget, it becomes nearly impossible.
After Men From Grad broke up in 1988, I entered some comedy competitions and soon started getting work and a steady paycheck. My desire to be on stage was fulfilled and I love being alone most of the time on the road. The downside is that I miss the camaraderie onstage and the banter with good friends.
My comedy is a little different from most of the comedians I've worked with. I do everything from stand-up to music to talk to acapella. Sometimes I work in front of an audience for quite a long time, but I rarely do blue comedy and I never get involved in politics. If I went in that direction, I would upset a lot of people. That's because they see what I see and hear what I hear. I still love stand-up comedy, but I try to only work in places where I enjoy it. I'm not chasing something. There's something to do every day, wherever I am.
If you could go back in time and give your 21-year-old self one piece of advice, what would it be?
It's not a long list, I did everything I wanted to do back then and anything I haven't done yet is on my to do list, I've been surrounded by great friends, I've broken some hearts, and I've been hurt a few times, so I'd say we're even.
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