Jefferson Airplane star's art 'takes off'
Singer to show paintings
Posted: March 6, 2011 - 12:00am
Marty Balin stands with one of his paintings at a gallery on King Street on Saturday. By DARON DEAN, daron.dean@staugustine.com
Marty Balin, lead vocalist of the influential psychedelic bands Jefferson Airplane and Jefferson Starship, knew or played music with most of the subjects of the vibrant paintings he's brought to St. Augustine.
And the paintings -- about 40 in all -- are like a short list of music legends, including Jimi Hendrix, Jerry Garcia, Robert Plant and Led Zeppelin.
But his favorites, Balin said, are of a subject he never met: Le Pétomane, born Joseph Pujol, a French 19th-century performer with the unusual ability to make music with a different instrument -- his rear end.
Pujol frequently entertained kings and queens and warmed the stage at the famous cabaret Moulin Rouge, Balin explained.
"I wondered why (Henri de) Toulouse-Lautrec never painted him," he said. "They were in the same place and scatologically oriented."
Balin was in town over the weekend to perform and to attend the opening of "The Marty Balin Band: A Journey Into His Art and Music," a show featuring the paintings he's done over the past decade and a half. They'll stay up through March 19.
Toulouse-Lautrec, a French painter, painted during the last half of the 19th century and became one of the most influential post-Impressionist painters but he never painted the red-jacketed Le Pétomane.
So, "I tried (to paint a picture) and it didn't come out like Lautrec, it came out like me," Balin said.
That's not such a bad thing.
The pictures surrounding him as he stood in the space the 130 King Street Gallery rented for the show seemed to glow with life and personality, their flourescent colors undimmed despite a lack of light.
In one, Elton John stands in a white suit, dark glasses aglow with glitter. In another, Jerry Garcia looks pensive as his fingers work a guitar.
On a different wall, Al Green arches his back as he belts out a song along a long slab of cardboard.
And throughout the gallery hang several images of Balin's friend Janis Joplin, cloaked in feathers or rings or hats. She is smiling in most of them.
"We were good drinking buddies," Balin said with a smile that makes him look much younger than 69. "We shared the same girlfriend one time.
"She found out and drank me under the table," Balin said.
He has painted many of the most influential musicians of the last half of the 20th century, but he has many more to go.
He said he has yet to paint Santana, Creedance Clearwater Revival and its lead singer, John Fogerty.
"I'm doing a Who, trying to get it so the drums are flying out of the painting at the moment of destruction," he said, flashing that same boyish grin.
Most of Balin's paintings are acrylic on canvas and sometimes mix in sequins and glitter, said gallery owner Donna Wendler. Wendler organized the show with sister Sue Geier, who owns Studio 212 in Tarpon Springs.
She said the opening drew about 500 people Friday night.
"He is a true genius," Wendler said. "People were amazed ..."
The paintings change with the lighting, she said.
"At nighttime the colors pop, they really come out," she said. "He sees it the way he sees things when they're on stage because you're looking from different vantage points."
She said the paintings would stay in town for a couple more weeks, eventually going to her sister's gallery and then on to other places.
They're for sale, of course.
It might be interesting to see Balin part with Le Pétomane, though.
"That's his absolute favorite (subject)," she said. "He's very impassioned about that series. When you see it, you'll know why."
Did you know?
Lead Guitarist/singer Jorma Kaukonen suggested Jefferson Airplane's unusual name. Jorma had once jokingly been dubbed "Blind Thomas Jefferson Airplane" by a friend in reference to the blues singer Blind Lemon Jefferson.
Source: All Music Guide
About Jefferson Airplane:
"Jefferson Airplane defined the San Francisco sound in the 1960s, with the acid rock guitar playing of Jorma Kaukonen and the soaring twin vocals of Grace Slick and Marty Balin, scoring hit singles and looking out from the covers of national magazines."
-- William Ruhlmann of the All Music Guide.
MARTY BALIN: Press
Crawdaddy! The Magazine of Rock
http://www.crawdaddy.com/index.php/2010/12/16/jefferson-airplanes-marty-balin-gets-out-of-his-own-way/
Jefferson Airplane’s Marty Balin Gets Out of His Own Way
In his nearly 50 years of performing and recording, Marty Balin has seen plenty—mostly ups, a few downs, but hardly a dull moment. After spending his youth growing up in the tough San Francisco Mission District, balancing gang life with drama classes, he kick-started his recording career in 1962 by cutting two perfect pop singles for the Challenge label (“I Specialize In Love” b/w “Nobody But You”), both very much indicative of their time with jumpy backbeats, strings, backup singers, and his swooping, diving vocals, which showcased unusual confidence from such a young performer.
Balin’s knack for adapting musical styles was also evident as he deftly moved into the folk circuit by joining the Town Criers and, briefly, the Gateway Singers. He knew that genre was dying, however, and the future was in electric instruments, so he went and co-founded the Jefferson Airplane with another folkie, guitarist Paul Kantner. If that wasn’t enough, he also helped finance, build, and run San Francisco’s first rock ‘n’ roll club, the Matrix. It was 1965, and he was already a bit of a renaissance man.
His introspective worldview didn’t always fit with the increasingly rocking Airplane; guitarist Jorma Kaukonen referred to Balin’s songs as “trite” (to his face) and thus began inward tensions. With the arrival of vocalist Grace Slick in late 1966 he withdrew even further, bristling at the lack of credit given to him. The symbolic end came at the band’s performance at the Rolling Stones’ free show at Altamont Speedway in December 1969, where Balin was stomped by members of the Hell’s Angels after the singer tried to break up a fight. See? Renaissance man.
The Marty Balin who left the Airplane in 1970 was exhausted and burned out. But after a few side projects he stepped in ever so slowly to the world of Jefferson Starship, a band created from the ashes of the Airplane by Kanter and Slick. Originally it was just a one-off as he fit lyrics and melody to a Kantner track. The resulting song, “Caroline”, was a huge success and the response was overwhelming enough to where he was a full-fledged member of the band for three albums beginning with 1975’s Red Octopus. Within a short span of time, his songs had raced up the charts into the American consciousness and pushed the band into arena rock superstardom. The biggest of these, “Miracles”, remains one of the most played songs from the ‘70s. His first solo LP, 1981’s Balin, contained two hit singles, establishing a solid solo career that was distinctly separate from his Airplane and Starship affiliations.
It’s been over 30 years since Balin has spoken to Crawdaddy!; one of the last interviews in January 1977 (with the magazine’s title unpunctuated) was perhaps the most notorious interview of his career. The writer, Mitchell Glazer, tagged along for a couple of days on tour with Jefferson Starship, taking place alongside the band in hotel rooms, a friend’s house, backstage, and on stage, giving us a grand version of their rock ‘n’ roll behavior. He described Balin as having “a dancer’s body with a gangster’s glide,” and the singer came off as both the loner and savior of the group, all the while trash talking other band members. It was this article in which he uttered the now infamous words: “I wouldn’t let Grace Slick blow me.” He was also misquoted as saying he was “too big for Jefferson Starship.” (Balin actually said, “The Starship isn’t big enough to keep me busy”.) All in all, he was painted as a complex figure: Angry and frustrated with the confines of fame, yet excited over what could happen next.
We caught up with him at his home in Tampa, Florida, where he is presently in the throes of an unprecedented creative surge having recently recorded three albums worth of material. The latest, Blue Highway, came out this summer and will be followed by The Witcher early next year. He’s also started his own label, Balince Music, and retains creative control of his output and master tapes. He speaks in a slow and serious voice, taking time to consider the questions and answering them thoughtfully without candy coating them. When I began the interview by asking him his thoughts on the current state of the music industry, he answered with a brisk: “You’re talking to the wrong guy.” But it didn’t take long for Balin to warm up, using his charm and nonchalant attitude to prove his point.
**Marty Balin vs. the Ever-Changing Music Industry**
Crawdaddy!: Tell me about Balince Music and talking control of your master tapes.
Marty Balin: Well, I can’t find the industry. I don’t know anything about the new world of recording, and everybody told me the album was dead, [so I] thought I’d make one for the funeral. I just put my own label on it because I don’t know anybody else. Handled it myself.
Crawdaddy!: And you have complete artistic control and distribution?
Balin: Yeah, I’ve got a major distributor and talked to a few other people who handle recordings, and they all have the same distributor, and that’s about it. In fact, right now I’m working on a big show called “Teach The Dream,” which is an all-day seminar with people talking from the industry and different bands playing. I’m playing towards the evening. They’re talking about the situation for musicians right now and what’s going on and how to deal with it. So, I’m learning as I go.
Crawdaddy!: Is it disheartening seeing the music industry change so much or do you see this as just another way it’s evolving?
Balin: Well, you know, to young kids coming up, they don’t know what went before. They can get everything on their phone and download everything they want and check things out… People are always coming up to me and going, “Oh, I saw a clip of you and the Airplane doing something way back when…” I don’t know who puts that stuff up there and finds it, but seems like there’s a lot out there. The musicians aren’t necessarily getting paid for anything anymore, but the access seems to be a lot. [If] I’m looking for a certain record, [it’s] something I have to really research. We have a couple of really old stores here where I can go find old recordings, but even that’s kinda hard. Or you can go on the web; I was looking up some Skip James blues stuff the other day—couldn’t find it in the record store, but I found it on the web. It’s a different ball game totally. I put this record out and I don’t know if people are going to hear it. A few people will, I guess, who like my music, but I don’t really know what’s happening out there. I just watch and see and help promote it the best I can.
I’m working now with a whole big band down here, and doing a bunch of songs and getting to do a good show, and they’re all interested in the same thing: People are calling from all over the country wanting the show to come tour. So there are people out there looking for something more than what you can get on your TV set.
Crawdaddy!: It’s almost too immediate these days.
Balin: I used to love to get up and play a set, and I’d tell the guys, “Hey, let’s play this song, I just wrote it today. Key of E, c’mon guys.” Then I go do the next gig and someone says, “Are you going to play that song you did last time?” And I say, “Oh, you were there?” and they say, “No, I saw it on YouTube.” I’ve learned to be a little more careful, but it takes some of the fun away.
Crawdaddy!: The spontaneity goes out the door.
Balin: Yeah. I stayed home from touring with [Jefferson] Starship and put down about three albums worth of material in the studio, and some of the guys who came in to do overdubs were such good players, I just said, “Hey, let’s go cut a new album.” We went in all together for three days like the old way, and cut a whole new album and had a real good time and everyone was saying, “Gee, haven’t done it this way in a long time.” The engineer was saying the same thing. It was easy ‘cause we did it one time together in the studio. I guess there’s still a lot of ways to record.
Crawdaddy!: How do you feel about the new studio technology?
Balin: What they can do now on a computer is amazing: Cut and paste, stretch notes, auto-tune a note. Now I gotta make sure the guy doesn’t auto-tune me. If I hit that note, that’s what I felt. The possibilities are endless, but can you duplicate it live? That’s what counts. If you play live, are you as good as your record? It should be even better ‘cause it’s kinetic and exciting, and you have an audience to feed back from, and you’re feeding off each other in the band. I like that, I like the live thing.
**On His New Record**
Crawdaddy!: Are you going to tour behind Blue Highway?
Balin: Well, if anybody wants me to. I don’t have any agents. I’m just working with a band down here. These guys have my songs down and we’re starting to get offers to tour. I’d like to, yeah, but I don’t know yet. If not, I still got my guitar and still writing songs.
Crawdaddy!: You’re in a position where you could go out by yourself with a guitar and do shows that way as well.
Balin: Yeah, I’ve done that or gone out with just a guitar player or a few guys. I like to do the big band thing, and then do a few small clubs in between and make up some extra money and play an intimate setting. Coming up tomorrow night, we’re playing a café just for the fun of it, ‘cause it sounds good broken down like that, too. I like going back and forth.
Crawdaddy!: The string section on some of the new songs are a really nice touch. “I Need Love” turns into quite an epic.
Balin: Well, I like some of the string things; they add a lot but I didn’t want them too obtrusive, but a little bit here and there is good. I couldn’t get all the ideas I wanted across, but I got some of it. I just wanted to reinforce that riff.
Crawdaddy!: I don’t think people were expecting that.
Balin: I don’t really know what they’re expecting. I was working with [Jefferson] Starship for a couple of years and I’d write a new song, go to sound check, and play ‘em the new songs, and then they turn around and say, “We’re going to go in and do a folk album.” I said, “Well, let’s write the folk album.” Paul [Kantner] said, “Oh no, I wanna do a Peter Seeger/Weavers again.” I said, “Paul, even Springsteen didn’t have a big hit with his Seeger album.” So I said, “You do that and I’m gonna go in and put down all the songs I’ve been sitting on for a while because I’m tired of waiting for you guys.” So I did that and I’m having fun—getting to my show, my way, my songs, and don’t have to wait for the other guys. They wouldn’t let me be involved that much; it was Paul and the manager and I never had a say in who did what. I earned the right to be the lead singer, but I guess they didn’t feel that way. So now I’m having a ball.
I met this guy in the grocery store [laughs], and he said, “Do you know who you are?” and I said, “Yeah, do you know who I am?” He said, “You’re Marty Balin!” Turns out this guy’s a guitar player and had a hard-rock band. He asked me over to sing some backgrounds on their record.
Crawdaddy!: The song “Versace” has a strange film noir feel to it, even though it’s a true story, and it’s unlike anything you’ve ever written.
Balin: Actually, I was working off some weird chords, and I love Versace, his design, his style… thought he was a great artist. I was just playing these chords and walked into the room and the news was on and they were talking about the Versace murder. I started singing [emphasizing the syllables] “Ver-sa-che.” I just loved that word—“Ver-sa-che”—and bam, five minutes later I had that song. The best kinds of songs come out real quick that way; those have all been my favorites. “Get out of your own way”—that’s always been my philosophy for songwriting.
You ought to hear the dance mix I did for that—different bass line. It’s really funky. This friend of mine in Boston, he’s gay and he said, “Oh, I love that song, man.” And I thought, “Hmm, gay guy, Versace…” So I went back into the studio and did a whole re-mix of it for a gay club, and it came out great, and he freaked over it.
Crawdaddy!: And your next record is which one?
Balin: Joe [Vertino, Balince Music manager] came in with this recording of me in this club with a band I had in Frisco, and he said, “Do you remember any of these?” And I said, “Jeez, these are really good songs, I forgot all about them.” When I was recording with the guys, overdubbing, I said, “Hey, would you be game and just record?” I redid these songs I had done in the ‘80s, and we did them live and it was real kinetic. It’s called The Witcher. It came off really hot. I’m ready to record again. I’ve got so many songs. I’ve been inspired by working with these guys, and I’ve been writing my head off. Plus, I’ve got some other songs from friends I’ve been sitting on.
Crawdaddy!: What do you find easier, writing by yourself or collaborating?
Balin: Either. I like when somebody gives me a challenge, try to hear what he’s sayin’ and try to make it work and see if I can hear what he’s playing. Or sometimes I’ll have a lyric and I’ll give it to a guy, and they’ll collaborate with me. Or I’ll have an idea for myself. Sometimes I’m not even thinking, and I’ll play some weird chord and something pops out—like, I get out of my own way and let it come through. I like all the different ways of working; it’s like a little game for me. What is this music conveying to me, how can I get that across and sing it to people?
**On the Repetitions of the Past**
Crawdaddy!: Just before Blue Highway was released, Sony [Collector’s Choice Music Live Series] put out not one, but four archive releases from one of your old bands.
Balin: Really? Huh. I don’t know where they keep finding that stuff.
Crawdaddy!: Do you ever feel you’re in competition with yourself?
Balin: No, I’m better than my old self. I’m much better now than I ever was.
Crawdaddy!: Is it frustrating that you’re known mostly for something you did 45 years ago when you’ve been creating this whole time?
Balin: Not really. The world never catches up with you. I’ve always been there, but other people have always taken credit or gotten credit. I’ve never had that pressure too much. I’m still doing what I want to do and still getting by without anyone inundating me with fame or any of that crap. I’ve seen too many people under that pressure take the credit. I don’t care; I’ll go over here and do my thing. I just follow the music. I love the idea of singing an old song, and I love singing the old songs because if they’re good, they always last. I pull out the old ones and people sing with me. I dig that. If it’s a good song, it’ll be one forever and ever.
Crawdaddy!: So you don’t get sick of singing [Airplane’s 1966 single] “It’s No Secret” for example?
Balin: No! It rocks and it works. As long as they still work, I’m happy. I’ve played performances where people have come up and said, “You know when I was a kid I wanted to go see you at the Fillmore but my parents wouldn’t let me go there. But now my kids are really into you, and they brought me here tonight.” I get the whole gamut of ages. It’s fun.
**Marty Balin’s Best Bad Day**
Crawdaddy!: One of my favorite Marty Balin moments is your fight at Altamont. The band was fried from too much touring; no one wanted to do the show. Tension within the band was peaking, some of which was due to [guitarist] Jorma Kaukonen referring to your songs as “trite” a few years earlier. Yet you had the balls to jump into the crowd and try to break up one of the many fights that had broken out that day. Was there any reaction from the rest of your band to that move?
Balin: Nobody was listening to me that day. I was kinda angry. I saw the whole crowd step back en masse and allow these guys to beat this guy to death in front of me, and I just figured he needed some help, you know? And nobody was there and nobody was listening to me, that’s for sure, so I joined in the fray. In fact, some of these Hell’s Angel guys had pool cues, and they were like, [adopts tough guy voice] “Hey Marty, whaddya doin’? You’ll get hurt; you should be singing.” I got back up and started singing again, and they’re beating up the guy behind me, and, oh, the hell with it. I guess I had a few drinks.
I was winning actually, I was backing this guy up, and I’m thinking to myself, “I’m actually doing pretty good.” We were pretty evenly matched, and I was backing him down and then, boom—I got knocked out. I woke up from being stomped. I had all these boot tattoo marks all over my body, and the only person who said anything was Jorma, who said, “You’re a crazy motherfucker.” And here’s Jorma who travels with machine guns and knives and guns—big, macho, bullshit lead guitarist crap. “Where the hell were you? I could’ve used a machine gun right there, it would’ve been great.” I just looked at him. “Sure, thanks a lot for helping.”
I remember sitting with Keith Richards and Jagger in [filmmaker D.A.] Pennebaker’s studio in New York; we were looking at the footage. Keith kept running it back and forth over this little part, the murder, and I said, “Why do you want to point that out for?” And he goes [adopts slow Richard’s like drawl], “It happened man… It happened.” [laughs]
**Marty Balin vs. Crawdaddy**
Crawdaddy!: One of your most notorious interviews was with this publication [title unpunctuated] in January of 1977 where you were misquoted as saying you were “too big for Jefferson Starship,” as well as saying you wouldn’t let Grace Slick “blow you.”
Balin: [Irritated] Oh right, I remember that. The guy freaked out over that, all he wanted to do was go to bed with Grace, and that’s all I kept talking about through the whole interview so that became the big quote. Big deal.
Crawdaddy!: The writer wanted to sleep with her?
Balin: Oh yeah, he was enamored with her; he wanted me to set him up with her. That was a big thing. I never slept with Grace, I causally threw that off. I wouldn’t let her blow me, and that became the big thing. [laughs] I didn’t mix business with pleasure. We sang on stage and everybody thought we were married, and I would burn her down, drive her crazy. Off stage, I couldn’t be bothered. [Mitchell Glazer could not be reached for comment.]
Crawdaddy!: In that interview you seemed both elated with the future but also really despondent with the present. Do you recall that period of your life?
Balin: That was a crazy time. I left [Jefferson Airplane in 1970] and came back [to Jefferson Starship in 1975], and it was the same old bullshit—a bunch of cocaine and everyone thought they were god’s gift to the world. You couldn’t talk to anybody; everyone had their own entourages. It was boring, everyone was so full of themselves, you know? I don’t really care for that. Once you get that famous they want to do “Their Thing,” and I don’t believe in that. I believe in doing “The Thing.” I hate that; it happens every time. Even the roadies are on coke, and you can’t talk to them. And me, I’m a student of yoga, and I’m meditating and in a calm place. I just… oh well.
Crawdaddy!: What with you bringing in hit songs and all but saving the band from mediocrity, it’s amazing you lasted as long as you did, considering you could’ve kept those songs for yourself.
Balin: I was back playing with Paul [in the ‘90s] after years and years, and you’d think I could get across to the guy, “hey let’s write together.” I sent him songs and demos and lyrics; at soundcheck I’d give him a couple of songs. He’s got that manager guy… I told the manager, “Hey man, either use me or lose me.” I don’t like just being trotted out to sing a few songs, not knowing where we’re going or how much money we’re makin’ and not being included in anything. So, I had to go and do something else. It’s the same old, same old.
**Marty Balin’s Mysterious Autobiography**
Crawdaddy!: There was talk of your autobiography coming out in 2003—
Balin: Really? Hmm.
Crawdaddy!: That’s according to the Jeff Tamarkin’s book [Gotta Revolution: The Turbulent Flight Of Jefferson Airplane].
Balin: I’m not writing an autobiography.
Crawdaddy!: There’s even a title for it.
Balin: Really? [laughs]
Crawdaddy!: [reading from the book’s postscript] “… he also wrote his autobiography, Full Fight: A Tale Of Airplanes And Starships which was scheduled for publication in early 2003.”
Balin: I’ve never done an autobiography, and I wouldn’t title it Full Flight, that’s for sure.
Crawdaddy!: [laughs] Where’d he get that info?
Balin: I’d probably call it… Best Seat In The House or something. I’ve written a play about those old days I’d like to put out. I’d like to write something some day, but writing is the hardest thing in the world. You gotta get the seat of your ass to the seat of the chair long enough to do something. I’m still writing songs. I like reading books, but I haven’t written anything.
Crawdaddy!: Your story would make a pretty good book.
Balin: Oh, it [would be] just one of those books on the shelf. I sit around and talk to people, and I notice a silence falling over the room [laughs] when I’m telling stories. [Mockingly] “Then Jim Morrison and I… then Janis and I… one time Garcia and I…” People hung on my words, and I think to myself, “Hmm, maybe I should write this stuff down.” Maybe I’ll have a last burst [of creativity] and have some good chapters at the end of the book.
Watch: Jefferson Airplane at Woodstock [at youtube.com]
Watch: Marty Balin circa 1982, “Hearts” [at youtube.com]
Jefferson Airplane founder Marty Balin shares music, artwork in Tarpon
By Demorris A. Lee, Times Staff Writer
In Print: Thursday, December 23, 2010
F
TARPON SPRINGS — Hand-painted portraits of some of the world's greatest musicians hung on the walls of Studio 212 Arts Guild.
There were John Lennon, Janis Joplin, Jerry Garcia, the Beatles and Sam Cooke, to name a few.
The artist? None other than Marty Balin, the founder of the Woodstock-era and Rock and Roll Hall of Fame member band Jefferson Airplane, which later became Jefferson Starship.
He was at the downtown Tarpon Springs art studio Saturday night for a special preview of his original artwork and to perform.
Balin didn't disappoint with his paintings or his performance.
"His voice was really amazing," said Becky Dempsey, a Tarpon Springs resident who grew up listening to her older cousins' Jefferson Airplane albums. "Sometimes, we go see guys from that era sing and their voices don't hold up. But he (Balin) sounded great. And his art is just amazing."
While Balin, 68, was singing, someone yelled from the crowd: "Your voice has never changed, Marty!"
Balin took the crowd of about 75 people on a musical journey of his hit songs.
For the last decade or so, Balin has lived in Tampa. His wife, local musician Karen Dean, died last month. He is raising their 15-year-old daughter, Balin said. In the last year, he has recorded three new albums at the Big3 Studios in St. Petersburg. The first album, Blue Highway, was released a couple of weeks ago, he said.
"I think I sound a lot better now that I'm not drinking anymore and doing drugs like I did in the old days," Balin said, with a laugh. "Some of those recordings were done under drug-ress."
Saturday's performance in Tarpon Springs was his first visit to the city known for its Greek culture and Sponge Docks. Art advocates say that Balin's presence is another example of the city's ever-growing and thriving arts community.
"It's taken a beautiful and exciting turn," said Sue Geier, 54, who co-owns Studio 212 with her husband, Larry, and sister, Donna Wendler. "And not just downtown, but all of Tarpon is pulling together cohesively, and it's drawing people to the whole community."
City Commissioner Robin Saenger agrees. An artist herself, she has worked to highlight the importance of a strong arts community. She points to the city's 2007 passage of a public arts ordinance.
"Tarpon has always been an arts community, but the ordinance showed the city's commitment," Saenger said.
Balin said the big homes and old buildings reminded him of San Francisco, where he got his musical start.
"It's a nice community," he said.
As for his art, Balin said he has been painting for as long as he can remember. He even went to San Francisco State University initially to be a painter.
Everyone paints well known artists, Balin said, but he likes to paint musicians he's had contact with. He even jots down notes of those encounters. A book might be forthcoming, he said.
"I had so many great times with Janis Joplin, hanging out with drinking sessions being recording sessions," Balin sad. "She's fun to do and easy to do, because she has a wonderful smile and curves.
"Jim Morrison (the late lead singer of the Doors), we were drinking buddies and had some wild times together. Jerry Garcia (the late lead singer of the Grateful Dead), those people are so iconic in music, it's easy to do those people."
Ursula Vassiliou drove over from St. Augustine for Saturday's art show and concert and remained in Tarpon for the weekend. And while she too enjoyed the art, it was Balin's music that took her to another place.
"It was just a fun time," said Vassiliou, 55. "I've always loved Jefferson Airplane. It's just so exciting to be here, and he sounded exactly the same 43 years ago."
Contact Demorris A. Lee at dalee@sptimes.com or (727) 445-4174.
If you go
In Tarpon Springs
What: Balin will perform and his original art collection will be on display.
When: 8 p.m. Jan. 8
Where: Studio 212 Arts Guild, 204 Tarpon Ave., Tarpon Springs.
Admission: $20.
For more information: Call (727) 944-2237
On the Web
For more information about Marty Balin, visit www.martybalin.net
