Chuck White's dirtywater.com Stompers treatment was so comprehensive that posting a Stompers article seemed like a redundant thing to do...but i get email regularly from folks asking me "where's the stompers page" so I guess it's time to put one together. Besides, Sal Baglio, the man behind the Stompers, is one of the very few fellow East Bostonians who made a mark on the local rock scene, so I guess it's only right that I give him his props. The facts are presented at the Stompers site and the aforementioned Dirty Water article, so I'll just throw out a few personal recollections.

As for memories, one day sometime in the late mid-seventies I remember Peter Lembo coming into Jack's Record Garage , all worked up. He and I filled reversed roles in Jack Griffin's organization at that time: Peter worked mainly at the Cambridge Music Complex, but sometimes he'd cover an empty shift at the Record Garage; I was mainly at the Garage, but I'd fill in at the Complex now and then. I knew Peter as a quiet guy, whose Elvis sideburns were the most radical thing about him, belying a polite, conservative cat who collected baseball cards. For the first time I was seeing him totally excited, raving about having heard a band so good he made his mind up then and there to change careers! And he did; he became the Stompers 1st manager.

Lembo's first managerial coup was to hook the band up with a weekly residency. He was so enthused about the group, pretty much telling anyone who'd listen that they had to check these guys out. My curiosity was piqued, so I went to see what the fuss was all about. The Stompers who were playing every Monday at the Rat, so I dragged my ass to Kenmore Square, still kinda shattered from the weekend. The singer comes out, plugs in a strat, looking sorta like a young, pre-speed Dylan -- a bit on the healthy side, wearing something like a railroad brakeman's cap. So far so mellow. I'm unimpressed. Then the band started playing, and despite the paltry Monday crowd this cat fronting the band was like a locomotive out of control. As I started to get the white soul-meets-rock 'n roll thing they were putting across, and dig it to boot, I realize there's something familiar about the singer. He was putting in the typical 110% effort that would later invite comparisons to Bruce Springsteen, but that wasn't what I was keying into. And then it hits me.

When I was a kid they sometimes had concerts at the City Yards in East Boston, up by the High School. I'd wander around and look at girls, think how cool it'd be to be in a band, and lie on the bleachers looking up at the stars 'til the group came on. One night some of my little friends -- we were all about 12 --were telling me there's this guy I had to see; he was "a pisser guitarist" and his band was "wicked". He was from Eastie, they said, and he was clearly already a local legend. So I go up to the City Yards, and watch a set, and sure enough the guy sounded great -- and since this was before I discovered drugs in earnest, that's an authentic "great". All I remembered later was that he was a guy named Sal. And now it's eight years and a lifetime later, and it hits me that that's the guy, up there onstage at the Rat! And he still sounded great!

I saw every one of those Monday night shows that the Stompers played at the Rat. Big crowd or no, feast or famine, Sal never punched the clock, he was always on, always working those songs. Our material and our approach were very different, but his work ethic was inspirational. Later I decided the residency was a good way to get the band sounding tight and solid, and after the Stompers moved on, and the Dawgs became Monday's House Band, I hounded Jim Harold until he agreed to let us follow the Dawgs. So my own band the bones became the third Monday House Band at the Rat in 1980 , maintaining an East Bostonian presence as it were. We were still kinda sloppy, but Sal came to some shows and was, as always, a gentleman, and truly gracious to our 3/4 Eastie-bred band. Some of the most enjoyable shows the bones ever played were as openers for the Stompers. At the Paradise and Mr. C's Rock Palace, in particular, it was unreal to see the reaction the band caused in it's fans, and we felt lucky to bask in the reflected glory, though in retrospect the fans were as generous and gracious as the Stompers themselves.

Much, much later --say, a decade -- Sal and the boys played at a Summerthing show , at Brophy Park in Eastie, just a fewblocks from my house. It was like a homecoming to get up and sing ("slow down") with the band ...it put me in like flynn with my local friends, too! I wonder how many people realize just how close the stompers were to new england royalty, as far as audiences were concerned? And isn't it the audiences that really counted? True fans, those Stompers aficionados, and a lot of diehard rockers to boot. It doesn't surprise me to hear from them often at my website, despite my lack of a Stompers article for many years! Here it is 2003 and Sal still gets out and plays shows with cats like John Lincoln Wright and Jon Macey, and a live Stompers LP has recently been issued. Here's to a true gent, an original and dedicated player, and both the original and newer Stompers... and to those fans who've remained faithful in an all too fickle world. Salut!

Visit the Stompers web site, but y'all come back now, y'hear!?