CHAPTER 24: YOU'VE HEARD OF US NOW
Vincent
Saturn and I were hanging out watching TV at my mother’s place when Danielle and Al walked through the front door together on that early March afternoon. My mother had spent the better part of two weeks in the Bahamas and didn’t return until A. she had a sufficient tan; and B. Al had talked to her enough times on the phone to convince her she would not be harmed for lying to him all these years.
“Welcome back, ma and Al,” I said, getting up to greet and hug them both as Saturn remained on the sofa.
“Hello, my wonderful son,” my mother said.
“And hello my wonderful son,” Al happily chimed in before depositing a bag of groceries on the kitchen counter. “How about a home-cooked dinner on me? A little sausage, peppers and pasta.”
“Yes, just the four of us,” my mother added, rushing over to hug Saturn. “It’s so good to see you again, Saturn.”
“Likewise, Danielle,” Saturn said, standing up and trying her best not to feel awkward. “It’s been too long.”
“You look good, ma,” I told her.
“Why thank you, Vincent,” she replied.
She did, too. She had a glow about her I don’t remember ever seeing before and it wasn’t just the amazing tan. She looked completely invigorated and energetic. Dare I say happy?
“You and Saturn look great, too, especially together,” my mother said with a wink. Saturn smiled.
“They are an adorable couple,” Al added.
Everybody was so sweet it bordered on sickening, but I found it refreshing. I’m sure it didn’t hurt that Saturn was there. That’s one of the reasons why I had insisted that she be with me when we all reunited; not to mention the fact that she was my girlfriend now and she should be welcome to attend a family function on occasion.
Al did the cooking while my mother, Saturn and I got a chance to relax and catch up in the living room.
“So how have you two been while I’ve been away?” my mother asked. “How’s the band?”
“Great,” I said. “We’ve been rehearsing for the tour and working on a couple of new tunes. The guys can’t wait until the Power Chord story comes out.”
“I know. I can’t wait either,” my mother said with a touch of playful sarcasm.
“So you and Al seem to be on good terms,” I whispered.
“We’re working through it,” she replied in full voice. “It’s gone far better than I could’ve hoped. Al and I both have you to thank for that, Vin. You handled this whole thing so well and you’ve helped bring us all closer together with your positive attitude. I’m sure Saturn has been a good influence on you as well.”
“No, no,” Saturn blushed, “I’ve just been supportive. Vin has grown up a lot since I first met him and that’s why he’s dealing with everything so well.”
“And Saturn is the major reason why I’ve grown up so fast,” I pointed out.
“Yeah, he’s benefited from all my wisdom because I’m so much older,” Saturn said with a grin. I smiled and kissed her on the cheek.
“I’m so happy you two are hitting it off,” my mother beamed. “It makes all of this so much better.”
And it was better. Everything, in fact. Al cooked a great dinner, we all ate like we hadn’t in months and we got along like the word dysfunction never existed. Call it the Saturn effect or whatever you like, but I was beginning to think life wasn’t so bleak after all.
When the April issue of Power Chord magazine came out a couple of weeks later, Al was back in Miami and he mailed each of the band members an advance copy. I rushed to the mail box on Monday and Tuesday and was disappointed both times, but on Wednesday, there it was. Ozzy Osbourne was on the cover and there was a small teaser line to “hot new bands you’ve never heard of.” I ran inside, jumped on my bed and got comfortable. When I flipped to page 48, I couldn’t believe my eyes: my Uncle Frank’s gravestone and I were staring right back at me. Talk about a surreal moment. On the facing page, there was a sweet shot of Freeway jamming at dusk on his porch with the artsy blur of headlights streaking past him in the background. Then I looked back to the page my picture was on and absorbed the headline: “Freeway & the Vin Numbers: Gravestone Secrets That Rock.” Holy shit.
Then I began reading Brad Wolzinsky’s story:
Freeway Wilson looks, plays guitar and sings like the second coming of Jimi Hendrix. Vincent Masoli writes songs about his dead father and then finds out later, during his interview for this article, that his father is very much alive. The two driving forces behind the Rhode Island-based band Freeway & the Vin Numbers, Wilson and Masoli likely never would’ve met if Masoli hadn’t stolen money from his senile grandmother to cover a series of bad football bets last September.
Buck Griffin, the band’s drummer and initial liaison between Masoli and Wilson, unconvincingly denies rumors that he doubles as Masoli’s bookie. In the liner notes to the band’s debut double CD, “Shaggin’ Dragon Paddy Wagon,” the musical contributions of band member/gang banger Ronnie “Friday” Perkins, who typically stands on the stage and does nothing during live shows, are listed as “unknown.” And guitarist/keyboardist Craig Hurley proudly wears a mullet because he wants to be “ahead of the curve when the hair fashion cycle inevitably comes full circle.”
If those little gems aren’t enough to pique your interest in this very promising band that nobody has heard of outside the nation’s smallest state, then just go to one of their live shows. At the band’s Halloween gig last year at the Heartbreak Lounge in Providence, Wilson asked the crowd to select the most boring fan. After the gangly young man was unceremoniously dumped on stage, Masoli’s scantily clad girlfriend, Saturn Satriale, lured the unsuspecting stooge into a game of Twister. As the fellow drooled and failed to connect the dots, Perkins rushed on stage wearing a “Texas Chainsaw Massacre” mask and brandishing a real, running chain saw. He scared the boring fan out of his acne-covered skin and chased him off stage to the delight of the costumed revelers. Later that same night, Masoli changed the lyrics of the band’s first single, “Papa Was A Gravestone,” from “Auntie rocked the lobster” to “Auntie preferred the butt hole.” Though most in the crowd seemed to love the alternate lyrics, Masoli’s uncle wasn’t so pleased. Al Masoli — a reputed mobster and nightclub owner in Miami, Fla. — rushed the stage packing a gun. Perkins pulled a gun of his own and police swarmed them to stop the melee. The show was cut short, the club was cleared out and the Heartbreak Lounge has since banned Freeway & the Vin Numbers from performing on its stage.
All of that only fueled the band’s buzz and creativity. Not only did Freeway & the Vin Numbers record an impressive debut indie CD packed with two dozen rock and blues hits that dropped in February, but they also became a YouTube sensation for the infamous Halloween show videos. In addition, “Papa Was A Gravestone” (original lyrics) is getting heavy radio play from Providence’s most popular college station, WBRW-95.5. And now the band is preparing to kick off an Atlantic Coast club tour, which begins May 19 in Miami.
Freeway & the Vin Numbers put on amazing live shows, led by Wilson’s charisma, guitar talent and fervent reverence to rock legend Jimi Hendrix. The band has performed moving covers of such Hendrix hits as “Love or Confusion,” “The Wind Cries Mary,” “Fire” and “Castles Made of Sand.” In a February show at the Sea Mist along Rhode Island’s beachfront, Wilson segued from the band’s unreleased track “Ain’t For Sale” to a verse from the Hendrix classic, “If 6 Was 9,” and updated the lyric “white-collar conservative” to “Wall Street executive.”
“Hendrix is on another planet, man — no other Earth-based guitarist even comes close,” says Wilson, who at age 20 is still seven years younger than Hendrix when he died in 1970. “Jimi’s music is better today than it was back then because there’s nothing out today that can even touch him. He’s our muse and we channel him the best we can into our music.”
Wilson grew up in a broken home, lived for a while in a tent city among Provi
dence’s most poor and now plays his Les Paul guitar on the first-floor porch of a three-story tenement overlooking Interstate 95. Two of the band’s songs, “Jamming By The I” and “Freeway in the Front Yard,” celebrate that scene. Another song strongly suggests that Perkins, his longtime friend, stole the Les Paul that Wilson plays. “He stole from Peter so I could play my Paul,” Wilson sings on the track, “My Paul,” one of the best on the CD.
Other highlights from the double album include the heavy rocker “Medieval Upheaval,” “Dashes to Ashes,” “Zero Gravity,” “Bucket of Blues” and the funky title track “Shaggin’ Dragon Paddy Wagon.” But it is the lead single, “Papa Was A Gravestone,” that has taken on a life — and death — of its own.
Still just 18 years old, Vin Masoli originally wrote the song last fall because as far as he knew, his father actually was a gravestone. Frank Edward Masoli died when Vin was only 10 months old and Vin was raised by his mother, Danielle Nardelli, an exotic dancer at the Roxy in Providence.
“My mother would take me to see my father every now and then when I was young,” Masoli recalls. “That’s how I always saw him: a gravestone.”
Vin said his mother told him his father drowned on a fishing trip and he never challenged her version of events, though he suspected his hot-tempered Uncle Al may have had something to do with his death.
For the first time since Frank’s suicide in 1992, Nardelli decided to share her secret with Power Chord. She confided that she was involved in a love triangle with brothers Al and Frank Masoli. Early in her marriage to Frank, she had an affair with Al. When she got pregnant, she knew the baby was Al’s but managed to cover it up with Frank until they had a major fight when Vin was 10 months old. Danielle asked for a divorce, Frank threatened her life and she asked Al for help. Al confronted Frank, told him about the affair and advised him to leave Danielle alone. After Frank took his own life, Danielle lied to Al and said the baby was not his. That’s when Al left Providence to start a new life in Miami.
“I didn’t want a mobster raising my baby,” Danielle says.
Nardelli said she always thought she would take her secret to the grave, but she changed her mind when the band brought Vin and Al closer together. After having reconciled with Vin and the band following the Halloween show debacle, Al used his considerable clout and wealth to talk the band into becoming its manager.
Clearly, Vin was not at all prepared for Danielle’s bombshell: Uncle Frank is the gravestone and his papa, Al, is very much alive.
“I had no idea Al was my father,” Vin says. “I was blown away when you told me what my mother said.”
For Vincent Masoli, his band’s first single will never be the same.
“I don’t think I can play that song live anymore … at least not in its present form,” he says. “I may have to change the lyrics for the third time.
“I also feel terrible for my uncle,” Vin adds. “But after all is said and done, I’m glad my mother finally told the truth and I’m glad my father is alive. That’s more important than any song.”
Even if their lyrics aren’t always accurate, Freeway & the Vin Numbers are attempting to resuscitate a gravely ill music scene with an injection of inspiration, passion and intensity that would make their immortal muse, James Marshall Hendrix, proud.