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BY JOEL REESE Daily Herald Staff Writer
Posted on January 03, 2002
Why one local band has spent thousands of hours (and dollars) trying to
sound like a rock group most people have never heard
To most people, the song titles "Natural Thing" and "Doctor Doctor" will produce
nothing but a quizzical, "Huh?"
After all, they were recorded by the hard-rock band UFO, which occupies a
sadly minor role in rock 'n' roll history (see sidebar).
For the uninitiated, UFO is an English group that saw its heyday in the late
1970s.
It released some albums that garnered a little acclaim, its guitarist left, and
that
was that - although UFO still tours periodically in true Spinal Tap fashion.
Suffice it to say, UFO hasn't exactly left a Beatlesque legacy.
But don't say that to the members of MST, a local band whose obscure name
stands for Michael Schenker Tribute, in honor of UFO's former guitarist.
To the six members of MST songs like "Natural Thing" and "Doctor Doctor"
maintain a crucial place in rock's collective catalog. These musicians are so
enamored with UFO, they've spent nearly five years and thousands of dollars
trying to capture every note, every nuance, of the band's unique sound.
"I have the same amp, the same pickups, and the same guitar as Michael," says
co-founding member Karl Fricke of Lombard.
MST consists of Karl, his brother Scott of Des Plaines on vocals, brother-in-law
Tom Flynn of Naperville on bass, Mike Sigman of Carpentersville on keyboards
and vocals, guitarist Paul Armin of Chicago and drummer Ron Zelasco of
Elmwood Park. Together, they have played bars, street festivals, and carnivals
from Highland, Ind., to Barrington, from Lemont to Schaumburg.
The band succeeds at its mission - there's no doubt MST sounds like the real
thing.
"MST plays UFO to a T," says Cary Shapiro of Chicago, who talks like he just
ate a bowl of alphabet soup. "I mean, they totally rock. They're great, man."
Which is all fine and good. But it might lead some to wonder why they spend so
much time, money, and effort replicating the sound of a band that, well, didn't
exactly burn up the charts.
The answer may be the ultimate form of tribute: By playing UFO's music, these
superfans can bring their overlooked heroes a piece of the fame that
inexplicably
eluded them back in the day.
"We're not the real thing. We can't even hope to be. But we're tributing our
favorites," Karl says. "It's a good feeling to be able to deliver that and keep
UFO's music alive. I'm surprised we're the only ones."
Irony or authenticity?
Most people would refer to MST as a cover band, a phenomenon that's been
around for decades.
But MST isn't a cover band - it's a tribute band. There's a big difference, says
Deena Weinstein, sociology professor at DePaul and author of "Heavy Metal:
The Music and Its Culture."
A cover band, Weinstein says, plays songs by different artists. A tribute band,
on
the other hand, plays only one artist, and often imitates the original band's
moves,
instruments and wardrobe.
"Cover bands are like a comedian who does imitations - there's an element of
wink-wink there," Weinstein says. "With tribute bands, there's no wink-wink or
irony involved."
Rather, tribute bands are in it simply for the love of the original group, says
Weinstein.
And there's no doubt MST has the love. The band practices for hours every
week to maintain that UFO-esque sound.
Does it pay off? They think so.
"A guy told me once, 'I've seen UFO, and you guys are better,'‘" says a proud
Scott Fricke. "That's the best compliment I've ever got."
Karl has heard similar words: "I've had people come up to me from places like
Gurnee, Belvidere and Indiana. They say, 'I close my eyes, and I swear we're at
a UFO concert.' People sing along with us like we're UFO at the Amphitheater."
Bell-bottom blues
Ahhh yes, the famed - and now razed - Chicago Amphitheater.
In a way, that's where it all started for MST.
Karl remembers fondly a 1977 concert at the nostalgic venue.
"Somehow, we squeezed into the 10th row," he says. "The crowd, the music, the
experience, and everything - I'll never forget it. From then on, I've been
hooked."
He's not the only one.
The Amphitheater is where UFO recorded much of its legendary live 1979
album, "Strangers in the Night."
UFO fans treat this album with the reverence normally shown for objects like the
tablets of Mt. Sinai - never mind the fact that its Amazon.com sales ranking is
a
lowly 8,396. Saying you were at that show is akin to saying you saw Halley's
Comet flash across the sky, or witnessed first-hand Michael Jordan's
championship-winning shot against the Utah Jazz in 1998.
"Did you see UFO when they reunited and played at the Vic in 1995?" Shapiro
asks.
No, comes the reply.
"Man, it was mystical," he says, shaking his head wistfully. "You couldn't even
hear the singer, everyone in the audience was singing so loud. It was just like
'Strangers,' man."
Sometimes, the band plays the entire, 13-song set from "Strangers," which gets
the crowd into a frenzy, Karl says.
"We don't do it too often - We try to make it special," says Karl, who really
was
there the night "Strangers" was recorded. "When people realize what we're doing,
they go crazy."
This attention to detail is what hooks fans like Sue England, who drives down
from Black River Falls, Wis., every time MST plays.
"I think I've probably seen every show they've done," she says. "No, wait - I
think I missed one."
So why the devotion?
She shrugs.
"They're great," she says simply. "They have a lot of fun when they play, and
they
make everyone else have fun, too. And they sound a lot like UFO."
England's emotional response is partially caused by the music itself and
partially a
yearning for the days of yore, Weinstein says.
"For almost everybody, the music that moved them when they were in the most
emotional state in their lives, their late teens, is the music that matters to
them
forever," says Weinstein, an admitted UFO fanatic. "These tribute bands are a
way to recapture that feeling of when you were really alive."
Dueling axemen
During an MST concert, guitarists Karl and Paul Armin present a study in
contrasts.
Karl stands by the microphone, expressively playing the guitar that stays right
at
his waist. Armin plays more to the audience, smiling, making eye contact, and
duck-walking.
Armin doesn't lack for confidence in his playing: "I feel I play my solos with
as
much heart and soul as Schenker would. Of course, on some nights you just nail
it."
Karl is a little more reserved: "Michael's vibrato, I come pretty close to," he
says.
"But I've been working on the solo to 'Rock Bottom' for 15 years, and I've just
got it to where I'm pretty close."
On a sweltering night last summer at a Chicago carnival, MST hit the stage after
Fleetwood Mac/Heart tribute band Fleeting Heart.
"I don't mean to brag, but most of those people are here for us," Armin says of
the 200 or so people watching the opening band.
When MST starts playing, a wave of air-guitar sweeps across the audience, and
several walk to the foot of the stage to be closer to the band.
A man with a hook for an arm pumps it in the air, waving it high, like a
metal-tipped fist. Then there's an extremely young-looking woman with fist
raised
and head bobbing, singing along with every word.
Excuse us, young lady, but many people considered UFO finished years before
you were born. Shouldn't you be listening to Britney Spears instead of UFO?
"That's my dad up there," explains Jenna Fricke, 18, nodding toward Karl. "I
grew up with this music. My dad wore a UFO concert T-shirt to the hospital
when I was born. I'm serious."
Hold on, now. Karl, you didn't really wear a UFO concert shirt to the birth of
your daughter, did you?
"No, it wasn't a UFO concert shirt," he corrects. "It was a Michael Schenker
shirt. I had that on under my smock."
This natal connection isn't the only way UFO is entwined with the important
moments in Karl's life. UFO also led him to his second wife, Paula.
"We both worked at a bar, and 'Lights Out' came on," Karl says. "I look over
and see that she's not just singing along, she's really belting it out - really
getting
into it. I said, 'Wow, somebody else actually possibly likes this music as much
as
I do.'‘"
Face-to-face
MST is one of only a handful of UFO tribute bands across the world. Japan
boasts two, Assault Attack and Shira-Yuri; England has Force It, who derive
their name from an early UFO album; and California is home to Strangers in the
Night.
But MST might well be the only of these bands that has been joined onstage by
one of the members of UFO.
A few years back, MST opened for a solo concert by former UFO bassist Pete
Way at the Penny Road Pub in South Barrington. After their set, Way strapped
on his bass and rocked out with them for a few tunes.
What was that like?
"I had perma-grin," Scott says. "I was smiling so big. I couldn't stop smiling."
More recently, the Fricke brothers met Schenker and Way backstage after a
recent Schenker concert at the House of Blues.
"It was so awesome," Karl says. "We were hanging out with Pete - he's really a
great guy."
A lot of rockin', indeed
In concert, MST plays some 35 songs, and the set can last as long as 2" hours.
Unfortunately, many of the fans don't hold out that long.
At the summer concert, people slowly ebbed away, lured by the nausea-inducing
Tilt-A-Whirl or the sickeningly sweet scent of cotton candy, spun under blinding
white fluorescent lights.
By now, it's getting near midnight. Less than 50 people are watching, and some
of
the band members' kids are sitting on the edge of the stage, sleepily holding
stuffed animals. But MST doesn't let up.
Around then, a realization occurs: there's something honorable and strangely
poignant about this. It's not just the extent to which MST sounds like UFO,
which
is indeed impressive.
It's more their earnestness - their even-eyed, blissfully un-ironic,
condescension-free sincerity.
But it's also that after they've finished their day jobs, helped the kids with
homework, and sent the check to the gas company, they rehearse to sound even
more like UFO. To improve that one tough bridge in "Mother Mary," or that one
problematic guitar solo in "Shoot Shoot."
And every now and then, they get to go onstage and become rock stars, doing
the songs of their favorite band.
The fact that this particular band has essentially disappeared from the public
consciousness is irrelevant. The members of MST are undoubtedly living their
dreams.
"I used to imagine myself singing 'Try Me' at a sock hop," Scott says, referring
to
an early UFO ballad. "Now, we have that song in our set. I'm like, what am I
doing here? Is this great or what?"