|
"When the Lord he gets ready. you got to move..."
|
|
A Gentle Giant
Tom Pomposello: 1949-1999
I’ve written two or three times over the years about a store in my hometown of Huntington called Kropotkin Records. It opened in 1970, when I was 15, and was an idyllic hangout...
|
|
|
|
|
...for hippie teenagers who loved rock ’n’ roll and the counterculture hat flourished in that era. As opposed to its one competitor in town, a fuddy-duddy business that had a larger stock of Perry Como than Buffalo Springfield, Kropotkin was an oasis where the young owners were two of "us," who dug the music and would gladly talk for hours about current releases, politics and the newest issue of Rolling Stone or National Lampoon.
The first LP I bought there, for $3, was Workingman’s Dead, by the Grateful Dead. I remember riding my bike early in the morning, about 6 a.m., picking up plums and pastries for the journey, visiting "straight" friends over in another part of town and then about noon, smoking a joint and reporting to Kropotkin’s, where I’d spend the next two or three hours. It was a cool way to kill a summer day. There was a "spare change" box at the counter, no cash register, a list on the bulletin board of which customers were on the "shit list" and endless talk from one of the owners, Tom Pomposello, about the blues. That wasn’t my interest, but it opened a whole new musical world for my buddy Mike Bifulco, who subsequently became very close with Tom. I also remember Tom and his partner Rob Witter good-naturedly making fun of me as I’d try to decipher hidden meanings in the pretentious covers of Moody Blues records.
Sadly, last week, at the age of 49, Tom Pomposello passed away. I hadn’t seen him in years but certainly remember him, and always will, very fondly, as a familiar and gentle figure of my youth. Following are the thoughts of a few friends whose lives were enriched by their friendship with Tom.
Alan Goodman: "Sorry I’m late, but I was on deadline today with something. But in a way, it’s good because I’ve just come from the wake and that was a scene. It brought together people from Huntington, musicians, animators, radio and tv producers, network executives, spiritual leaders–people who knew and knew of each other, people who hadn’t been together in decades, and at least one who flew cross-country to pay his last respects. And on everyone’s lips, you heard the same thing. Tom was a very special guy.
"I heard one story from Rob Witter about Scott Savitt and Bifulco that you will have to confirm with the two of them, but I will save it for the end because it’s too amazing.
"First, two quick stories I know about Kropotkin Records.
"By the time I visited it in the early 1970s, it was already a typical-looking record store, but anyone who just knows the Towers and Virgins of today can’t really know what that means. Modest. A few rows of bins to hold the 12-inch albums. Tom–the owner–smiling behind the counter. But apparently in the days when the business was young, there were no bins. Instead, the albums were lined up in rows covering the walls around the whole store. If you wanted an album, it was lifted off the wall, you paid, and walked off happy. But what no one knew was, those records on the wall didn’t represent Kropotkin’s stock. They were the stock. If Tom sold a copy of Jimi Hendrix’s Are You Experienced? or a disc by Big Brother & the Holding Company, he was sold out of the title. I think a couple of times a week, he’d get on the train, visit a jobber a few towns away, and replenish. With one more copy for each one he sold.
"And the other story is, when Tom would make those shopping trips, he’d leave the store open. Maybe it was the back door or something, that part I don’t know for sure. But regular customers who knew about it would come in and buy from him when he wasn’t even there. They’d open the cash box. Leave money. Make change. Occasionally, he’d find extra in the till! I know I sound like my grandfather (‘back in the old days, we trusted people’) but even then it sounded impossible.
"Anyway, when I first got to know Tom it was 1970. I was at Columbia University spinning jazz records on the radio, Tom was doing the blues show. His old Huntington pal Fred Seibert, another undergrad who was later my partner, brought Tom to the airwaves, and by universal acclamation this student, champion and performer of the blues was a natural talent on the air. He had a wonderful radio voice, a delight in his category, and an understated authority. He was also something of a celebrity, having recorded an album playing bass alongside his idol, Mississippi Fred McDowell. With Fred, he formed Oblivion Records to manufacture and distribute it, along with a few other releases that came later (all in the blues and jazz realms).
"Years later, when Fred and I were at MTV heading up advertising, plus on-air promotion and marketing for the channel, I remember it as not being the best of times for Tom. He was doing his music then. Fred had the idea to get Tom to produce some music tracks and live-action IDs to fill out the package of identity we created for the network. The scheme was basically to get some coin into the guy’s hands. (Not a lot, though. We were into volume at the time, we wanted a lot of animation for the dollars.) Tom had no experience, but we figured if the music was good, we could toss the films and it was still a good price just for the tracks.
"The simple bits he produced are still among my favorites of the hundreds and hundreds we put on the air. A cow in a pasture, munching on grass. As the camera pans around, we see some young prankster has painted an MTV logo on the cow’s hide. Or, a view of the White House in Washington, shot from a passing car window. A stencil covers the window, a spray can passes back and forth across the opening, the stencil is removed and it’s the channel’s logo obliterating the Presidential Palace (that one to the tune of a Hendrix-like ‘Star Spangled Banner,’ performed by Tom on guitar).
"When we took over the on-air for Nickelodeon and completely revamped the channel’s look and feel, we brought Tom on as our producer. Since I had done the day-to-day in that area for MTV since its inception, it was a bit like passing the baton for me. Yeah, right–until he left me face down in the dust with the results of his consistent talent, a huge body of excellent work.
"I like to think we brought Tom kicking and screaming into the commercial world, and I told Patty, his beloved wife, the same at the wake tonight. I remember the gut-wrenching, sometimes agonizing, struggle Tom waged with himself as he approached the work. For this man who had so much integrity and so much honesty (the name under which he always performed was Honest Tom Pomposello), who had worked so hard to popularize a form of music largely ignored and forgotten, who was earning a salary working for bosses who had clients, for Pete’s sake–the whole thing was so off for him. I think it was like anything else for Tom. Once he figured it out, once he could understand it in a context, he could reach comfort with what he was doing.
"Eventually, he did that. Tom was on his own with his own company, his own style, earning his own universal acclaim and reaping the rewards, not just for the work but for his decency. And he never left behind the personal work he loved. Along with the commercial career, Tom found ways to incorporate traveling around the world playing the blues, and more recently, producing a CD of sacred music by the nuns of the Abbey of Regina Laudis in Bethlehem, CT, where mass will be said for him tomorrow.
"In all the time we worked together, I never heard him raise his voice. There was always the gentlest approach with anyone with whom he was working–nothing was ever going badly. I can’t count the recording sessions I attended with him at the mixing board, but to listen to him direct the session, there was never a bad take, just not the one we needed yet. And there was always praise and gratitude from him for everything.
"I felt all that again when I spoke to him just four days before he passed away. We weren’t in the habit of speaking in recent years. A time or two a year, was all. But I needed some information I could have gotten a dozen ways, but figured a call to Tom could clear that up and give me a chance to catch up. It was as uplifting as always. He went on and on about the picture of our kids we sent him at Christmas. He spoke with pride about the work of his son Travis, who does David Letterman’s promos (my favorite ID at college radio was tiny Travis’ recording of the call letters). He was full of enthusiasm about upcoming projects, most notably a ‘new’ Mississippi Fred McDowell recording he was making. While we were still at the radio station, years before Fred died, Tom recorded McDowell singing with Tom on guitar. ‘Fred was sounding very strong,’ Tom told me. ‘I was horrible.’ But they were on separate tracks. So now, thanks to modern technology, Tom had stripped the vocal and was laying new tracks.
"So–full circle. A life completed, if not complete.
"Okay, the Witter story. Again, get confirmation. But apparently Bifulco hadn’t heard about Tom’s death, and Savitt felt he had to take him out to tell him. He brought him to dinner, choosing the Thai restaurant that lives where Kropotkin used to stand.
"Now, when it comes to spirituality I ricochet between the poles of ‘it’s all bunk’ and ‘name a religion, I’m an adherent, I believe it all.’ But from what I understand, Bifulco, who used to work for Tom and was very close, hadn’t seen him in several years. So he and Savitt are walking up to the restaurant and Bifulco stops and says, ‘You know, it’s so weird we’re eating here because last night I had the strangest dream. Tom came up to me and hugged me. And then he kissed me. And it seemed so real.’ And Savitt told him, right there, and Bifulco felt better than Savitt because he felt that Tom came to say goodbye.
"That’s the story. I wasn’t there. But go ahead and tell me that’s a lot of pooh."
Mike Bifulco and Scott Savitt: "On January 25 we suddenly lost a beloved friend and musical treasure–Tom Pomposello. ‘Honest Tom,’ as he was affectionately called, was simply one of the most influential and creative forces to emerge in recent memory in the entertainment world. In the early 70s Tom and his partner Rob Witter opened Kropotkin Records in Huntington. In the days before mega-record stores, Kropotkin, though small in size, stocked an astounding cornucopia of musical delights–everything from acid rock to avant-garde jazz–with a special emphasis on the music Tom loved and championed all his life–traditional American folk music. Country blues, old timey and Chicago blues records lined the walls; rare treasures all but impossible to find outside of Greenwich Village.
"The atmosphere of the store was as eclectic and colorful as its stock. Two poles supported the ceiling, painted like something out of a psychedelic barber shop. The ceiling itself was covered with black light posters–the favorite being a notorious x-rated scene of Popeye and Olive Oyl. The free record box is still fondly remembered as is the huge tie-dyed couch where people would hang for hours, listening to music, catching the vibe or making out.
"All the while Tom was the ringmaster of this circus. He was hard to miss–a big bear of a man with shoulder-length black hair, full beard and a mischievous sense of humor. Many current day filmmakers, journalists, media moguls, musicians and artists spent their formative years in this wonderful, once-in-a-lifetime environment.
"But it was Tom’s mastery of the bottleneck guitar and his charismatic stage presence that made him a legend. A musician from childhood, his life changed forever when he befriended and played bass with the great Delta blues man Mississippi Fred McDowell. Tom became a popular performer on Long Island and New York City, and his annual Heckscher Park concerts were the most eagerly awaited and heavily attended events of the year. In addition he was a music professor at Five Towns College.
"Tom moved on to Manhattan to found Pomposello Productions, producing music, animation, videos and records. He created music for, among others, MTV and Nickelodeon, including the famous ‘Nick-Nick-Nickelodeon’ theme. His accomplishments and awards are too numerous to list here, but it’s no exaggeration to say that if you are even just a casual television viewer, you are more than familiar with his work. In spite of all his success, Tom never lost his love of performing and continued to tour the world playing his cherished custom-made Dobro guitar.
"Many live in this world; few leave it an enriched and brighter place by having been here. Tom Pomposello will be missed by many. His legacy lives on."
|
|
|
MUGGER
Russ Smith
New York Press
Volume 12, Issue 5 - 2/3/1999
|
|
|
|
|
|
