Once
upon a time, a couple of guys in San Francisco cooked up an idea to form a
French '60's covers act. One bet the other he could find some chick who
could sing in French to front it. If he did, the other had to play
bass. Our fairy godmother waved her wand... et voila: a tall blonde
California girl who'd studied at the Sorbonne appeared before them. The bet was
won, more musicians were found and the band called themselves Rue '66. Before
long, yet another lovely, tall American gal appeared who could sing in French
and shake a mean tambourine besides. Now the band was graced with a harmonizing
duo.
They
rehearsed, cut some demos and started doing gigs. A horn section offered their
services and the band could hardly fit onstage. Audiences seemed pleased,
smiling as they recognized some of their old favourites, this time sung in
French, and dancing to the 60s go go beat. At one of these shows, a real
Frenchman by name of Serge hopped up onstage and joined them for a couple of
numbers. The atmosphere suddenly went from euphoria to mania. When the set
ended, the crowd yelled for more... they wouldn't let the group step offstage. Serge
had literally whipped them into a frenzy. He was subsequently invited to guest
appear with the band again. Each time the same thing happened. Even when he stepped in with a band opening for Rue '66, the crowd went
nuts. Finally, Serge became an official member and now the band had no
less than three people who could sing in French. The fellow from the start
of this tale, who'd lost the bet and had taken up the bass in payment, shook
his head in happy disbelief.
The
happiness was not to last however as it was known that the talented performer
who had just joined was living with a terminal illness. Against all odds, Serge
hung on, no doubt strengthened by his love of performing with the band. This
situation was not new to the group. Mark Zanandrea, the guy who dared the
other that he could find a singer, was also in dire straits, physically. The
odds finally began to catch up with him and he left the group and died after
awhile. Serge now dug his heels in even further... when he wasn't kicking them
up on stage... ever the entertainer. The group's last show with Serge was in
San Francisco, the venue sold out... oversold in fact... with people spilling
into the space next door just to hear, if not see the performance.
Rue
'66 talked for years about cutting an album. Serge made that happen. Organized
it, found the money and helped with the production. He contributed an
original song that he'd written in 1968 and co-wrote a new song just for the
album. He also adapted French lyrics he wrote for a song the bass player had
released back in the 80's with his band, The Trip. Serge played 12 string guitar
and sang chansons by Jacques Dutronc and Eric Charden. The songs from the Rue
'66 repertoire doubled when he joined because now the band was not only doing
the ye ye girl stuff but the guy stuff as well.
Most
of all, Serge Martial kept Rue '66 going. His enthusiasm and hard work
never wavered. It truly was an inspiration to all and his tireless efforts were
unmatched plus, he was a real charmer. Cyril Jordan of the Flamin' Groovies who
sat in with the band occasionally called him his "favorite
Frenchman". Serge was truly one of a kind and this author feels greatly
blessed to have known him and having been fortunate for getting the opportunity
to work with him.
He really loved the group. Serge was Rue '66's biggest fan.
He really loved the group. Serge was Rue '66's biggest fan.
Au
revoir, mon ami.
Donald
Ciccone (or as Serge called me, "Antoine")
