This
blog about our cherished instruments started in January
2022 and will be updated in each new post, until we cover all of our
significant instruments. (We send the updates out through our
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MARCH
2022
Larry's
12-String EKO Guitar
First
of all, I must apologize
that there are very few original photographs from the period. I didn’t
own a
Kodak Instamatic at the time, and even if I did, it simply didn’t occur
to me
to snap pictures. If you hung out around the area then, I hope some of
the
places I mention bring back memories for you.
At
the age of 15, with my Bar Mitzvah money, I
bought this lovely EKO
guitar (on my own!) in a store on
Allenby Street in Tel Aviv. Not the famous Ginzburg
store, but a store that doesn’t exist anymore. (We’ll get back to
Ginzburg in a
later post.)

The label inside the guitar:

I
did not take the EKO with me to the army – it
was too precious. And heavy! But during my army period, I went on
what’s called
“Nofesh Tzva’i,” or “Military Vacation” in Givat Olga, there I met
another
soldier who sang my style of songs. We clicked musically, and together
we sang
a lot for the other soldiers, sitting outside on the grass.

Givat Olga Military Resort Hotel
After
I completed the army, I was contacted by
that (ex)soldier who told me she had a friend who was opening a club in
Tel
Aviv, and that if she could find someone to accompany her on guitar,
she would
be able to perform there. The place was called “Briza”
and it was
located on the beach front, right next to the US embassy (where Yotvata
is
now). That was the first club I performed at post-army.

Location of the "Briza' Nightclub
During
the army, I used to go with friends to
Danny Litani’s club “Habikta,” on the Tel Aviv
exhibition grounds, and
we succeeded in getting up on stage there too… but not for pay, just
jamming
for fun. Later on, I would perform there many times, solo or with
friends – and
almost always with Danny Litani joining on the tambourine and harmonica.

Danny Litani. He actually had a beard when I knew him, but you get the idea.
Anyway,
at Briza, always with the EKO guitar, I
performed with the other ex-soldier for just a few weeks – it didn’t
suit her,
and she really didn’t suit the place. She had a pleasant voice and all,
but had
no idea how to perform, and she decided it wasn’t for her.
On
the first night that I went to check out the
place before performing there, I saw a duo performing… he played
guitar, she
sang. The girl, Shelly, was about 4’10” in height, and had a voice just
like
Janis Joplin, with the same stage presence. She was in the audience one
of the
last times I performed with the other ex-soldier, and after the show
Shelly
came up to me, said that her partner was leaving the country, and asked
if I
would like to perform with her.
That
collaboration lasted about a year. We
performed at Briza, at Habikta, and a few other clubs and venues in Tel
Aviv
and the surrounding area. We were even invited to perform at two
different army
bases for officer parties! During that time, at Briza, a guy came up to
me and
asked if I wanted to join their band. I asked what kind of music they
do, and he
said fairly heavy rock and punk. I declined. The group was called “HaClique.”
During that time, I met a few other performers, mainly at Briza. There was one young couple, before their army service – he was originally American, she was born in Iran. They were very cute together, and extremely talented. I knew they would go places with their music. A year later, they joined the army together and performed in a “Tzevet Havai U’bidur” or “military entertainment duo.” Only after they got out of the army did they become known to the public as Rami and Rita. I often collaborated with them and the other singers for fun – but mostly with Rami on piano, me on the EKO – we would often join each other’s sets. It was a very free-spirited atmosphere.

Rami and Rita, the way I remember them then
I
heard about the opening of a new club in Tel
Aviv, on the beach under the Hilton hotel, called the “Assam.”
It was
owned by Mati Caspi and Arik Sinai.
I decided to try to perform
there on my own, since the collaboration with Shelly was petering out
and I was
losing interest. I took my EKO and offered to perform there. As an
audition, I
sat with Mati Caspi on the balcony at the entrance of the club and sang
Paul
Simon’s song Night
Game
with my EKO. Mati was impressed enough to
employ me to perform at the club weekly for the following year, until I
decided
to leave performing to study hotel management.

Don't look for me in here - it's from the HaOlam Hazeh newspaper, before my first visit to the club.

The beach structure that included the Assam nightclub (arrow) on the second floor. For many years after the Assam closed down, the location was a thriving fish restaurant.
While
performing at the Assam, I met another
bunch of famous performers. I remember sitting at the same table with
Mati,
Arik Sinai, Ephraim Shamir, Korin Alal and her girlfriend, Danny Pe’er
(the
pianist from Gazoz, not the TV announcer), the Parvarim, and many
others, and
some other talented performers that didn’t go on to become famous. The
reason
we all sat together was that I was usually the warm-up performance,
before the
“real” performers got up on stage. We were asked to sit together so we
performers didn’t take up too many tables - the place was usually
packed.
One
guy that I hit it off well with was the guy
who accompanied Arik Sinai. He was mostly in love with the Beatles, but
he also
had a great love for Simon and Garfunkel. I can’t count how many times
it
happened that I would go on first, then he and Arik would do their set,
and
when they were finished, Arik would get off the stage, I would take
Arik’s
place, and together with this guy sang mostly S&G songs
together until the
early hours when we were too tired to continue. That guy wasn’t yet
famous
either. His name – Danny
Robas. We even looked a
bit similar to each
other at the time – both with bushy, curly hair and a beard. The
combined sound
of his guitar and my 12-string was magical.


Danny on top, me on bottom. Not quite twins, but still...
I
also performed regularly at a club inside
Dizengoff Center called “Shablool” (which means
snail). Only years later
did the club reopen in a new location as a jazz club. The club had
interesting
architecture – it was actually built like a snail! It was about three
stories
high inside, tables were set up on a circular path that went up in
levels, all
around the walls (somewhat similar to the structure of Dizengoff Center
itself,
only of course much smaller). The bottom floor was covered with
restaurant
tables, and the top floor was where the bar was. The stage was about
halfway
up, on one of the wider sections of the circular path, and it was
impossible to
see the stage from the bottom floor and the bar floor. I am explaining
all this
so you will be able to picture what happened there when I tell you
later…

Dizengoff Center
One
day, I stopped at an ATM on Dizengoff
street, and a man came up to me, saying, “You are the singer Larry,
right?
(Like Rita and Rami, it was popular for unknown people in that circuit
to be
known just by their first names.) He said he had been searching for me
for
months and had a business proposition for me. He asked me if I could
come meet
him in Ramat Hasharon. I asked him what it was all about, he said he
would
explain everything at the meeting. I needed more information to comply,
so he explained
he has a business partner who is very famous, and together the two of
them were
once eating in Shablool on the bottom floor and heard music from
upstairs. The
guy I was talking to said it sounded like a recording of Don McLean,
the other
guy said it was live music. They made a bet, and of course the famous
guy won.
They decided to offer me a proposal… but he wanted to talk about it
only at his
office. So I agreed to meet him there.
I
arrived at his office a few days later. He
was alone – I was hoping to meet his famous partner, still not knowing
who he
was. He finally told me what it all was about. His business partner was
Yigal
Bashan, and this guy was his lawyer. Yigal was
interested at
the time in
promoting young talents and trying to get them into the Pre-Eurovision
contest, and they wanted to do that with me!
The
first stage was to meet Yigal and let him
hear me singing and playing again. Since Yigal was a very busy man, we
scheduled a time for me to meet him one day at his luxury apartment at
6:30am,
spend a little bit of time with him auditioning me, and then go
together with
him to the recording studio where he was working on the album that came
out
right after his hit album “Sivan.” There I met all the guys from his
amazing
group “Brosh” and watched them work on a song called
“Rotzeh
Habayta”
(not the same song as the one that later came
out, sung by Benny Elbaz). When guitarist Shmulik Budagov (one of Israel's top guitarists,
since the early 70s and still active)
saw my guitar,
he asked if he could use it in the recording! So, yes, it’s played
there and
quite prominently, too. I sat there for a number of hours waiting for
them to
finish the guitar tracks. During the session, the album’s producer Gary
Eckstein came into the studio, took one
look at my guitar,
said he had the
same model, and that it was one of his favorite guitars!
Yigal Bashan's song, featuring my guitar, played by Shmulik Bodagov
I
never heard anything from any of them again.
I’m glad – I was NOT interested in getting into the Eurovision song
contest,
even if I could!
After
I started studying hotel management, as I
previously mentioned, I stopped performing music altogether. This was
in 1982.
My next encounter with performing music only started again in 2003
(stories for
future posts, with different instruments), and this lovely guitar sat
in its
case for many years. Only after Mindy and I moved to Tuval in 2012 did
I take
it out of the case and hang it on the wall where it is now behind me as
I write
these lines. It wasn’t even playable because something in the fret
wires had
shifted.
I’m
happy to say that just a few months ago, I
took down the EKO and decided to see if I can find exactly what the
fret
problem was. And I found it! One of the fret wires had simply moved
from its
position and was distorting the sound. With a bit of work, I managed to
file it
down and push it back into place, so that the guitar now works
correctly! I
changed the strings (something that hadn’t been done to it for about 40
years!), and now enjoy playing it very much! Maybe someday I
will take it
up on stage when Mindy and I perform.
Over
the years, I have bumped into some of the
singers that I knew from then. My parents lived in Kfar Vradim, not far
from
where Mati Caspi lived. I saw him one day at the coffee shop in the
Kfar Vradim
shopping center, and went up to say hello. He just looked uncomfortable
and
showed no signs of remembering me at all. Likewise, I bumped into Arik
Sinai in
the Klei Zemer store in Dizengoff Center the day I bought a different
guitar. He said he didn’t remember what he had for breakfast - how
could he
remember me from back then.
On
the other hand, Mindy and I went to see Rami
Kleinstein in an intimate workshop he did on songwriting, in one of the
small
rooms in the back of Tzavta Tel Aviv. Rami did
remember me from then and
was happy to hear about Mindy and I’s singing career together. Rami is
a great
guy!
Next month, we’ll tell you about an instrument that both Larry and Mindy have a medical history with!



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