The Raspberries Blossom Once More

With a smattering of recent live shows receiving rave reviews, reunited power pop quartet the Raspberries have fans clamoring for a full-fledged tour. It may very well happen, but before committing to such an endeavor, singer/guitarist Eric Carmen, guitarist Wally Bryson, bassist David Smalley, and drummer Jim Bonfanti want to make sure things are just right.

"We are discussing it," Carmen tells Billboard.com. "There are a number of ways we can go about doing this. We've played three shows so far, and they've all turned out great, and I want to be able to keep that quality level where it is. We're talking to a number of different people; we've got a bunch of offers from agents, managers. Over the next few weeks, we will be discussing all those possibilities, and what we can do."

Understandably, since the group hasn't issued a full-length studio album since 1974's "Starting Over," Carmen is concerned about the demand not being as high as it could be. "I'm not really concerned about playing New York and Los Angeles -- those are media centers," he says. "But I've always been a little concerned that in secondary markets like Denver, Milwaukee or places like that, this isn't going to fly unless there is a concerted overall national publicity campaign of some sort. I just don't think we're going to fly into Milwaukee and set up shop on a stage somewhere, and people who haven't heard of this band in 32 years are going to come in droves to see us."

That said, Carmen figures there are several ways to boost the veteran group's profile. "I think the way to do it is to maybe talk to Capitol about a box set, including some of the live tracks that we recorded, maybe with a DVD involved. Then perhaps couple that with something like 'Behind the Music' on VH1 ][and] maybe a 'Conan O'Brien' appearance [laughs]. Then do a tour, so that you've raised the awareness of the band."

One Raspberries-related release that does seem to be forthcoming is either a live CD or DVD comprised of the two homecoming Cleveland shows the group played on Nov. 26 and New Year's Eve.

"I've heard a rough mix of the first show, and I'm waiting to get the rough mix of the second show," Carmen says. "We might want to do a few more shows and get them recorded before we actually seriously sit down and pick which tracks and whatever. And then it's going to be, can we work something out with a record label that will actually promote this? I think at some point it will happen [but] I'm just not sure where or how yet."

It also turns out that the shows have put Carmen back into a "power pop frame of mind," songwriting-wise. "Playing with the band has certainly rekindled some of the rock'n'roll thoughts that I used to have," he admits. "I think if I were to do anything now, I would think about writing something for this band, which would be fun to do. We haven't gotten to anything specific. But I think we could do that. We just have to see if there's anybody there who wants to buy it."

Once upon a time, in a sleepy little town called New York City, there dwelled a man of great charm and few scruples. Let's call him Vittorio. One day, a tape containing four songs written and produced by four young lads from the faraway Land of Cleve, found it's way to the desk of suave Vittorio who, upon listening to it, swore he could hear the magical jangle of a thousand cash registers, and decided to sign our unsuspecting lads to the most unconscionable of all the unconscionable kinds of contracts ever devised by the music industry to relieve artists of as much money as possible, should they ever earn any. It was called a "Production Deal." In addition to the 'Production Deal," he felt it was only fair that, since he had discovered them, he should also have a lopsided share of their publishing royalties. Vittorio flew our boys to New York and dangled dreams of recording contracts in front of them and, alas, being inexperienced in these matters, the boys took the bait. The boys did get to record, and even enjoyed some initial success but, as fate would have it, never quite achieved their dream. They returned to the Land of Cleve and broke up in frustration. But sly Vittorio still owned their publishing, because contracts do not end when bands break up. Soon after, the most foolhardy but stubbornly tenacious of the four young lads, let's call him Eric, had written a new batch of songs and landed yet another recording contract. He, too, met with great initial success but was beginning to wonder what lay beneath Vittorio's charming facade. One day, Vittorio came to Eric and asked him to sign some papers.He said he wanted to negotiate a new deal with him. Eric read the papers and was a bit confused. The papers asked Eric to recognize two new companies, called Camex and Camerica, and to agree that these were one and the same as CAM USA, the company for which Vittorio worked, and to whom Eric was originally signed. Eric asked why he needed to sign these papers and was given, what he deemed, an insufficiant answer, so he didn't sign them. Shortly thereafter,Eric moved to the Land of Lost Angels and hired a new attorney named Milt. One day Milt called to say he had seen an ad in an entertainment business publication called Variety that seemed a bit odd. In the ad, CAM thanked Vittorio for all his years of service and announced that they had split up some six months ago. Eric was stunned. "Who am I signed to?" he wondered. He immediately called Vittorio and posed just that question. Vittorio told him it was "just business" and it "meant nothing" but Eric wasn't so sure. He asked Vittorio to let him see the books. Vittorio asked if he needed money and prepared to write him a check. Eric said he still wanted to see the books. Vittorio refused. Eric asked his agent to find him "Wyatt Earp in a business suit." His agent suggested a high powered music business attorney named Elliot. Eric hired Elliot to look into the matter and they soon found that CAM and Vittorio had indeed split up, and they had done one more thing. They had split up Eric's copyrights as well. CAM had retained some, but they had given a large number of them to Vittorio's new companies Camex and Camerica, and some they had split up fifty- fifty. Eric recalled a clause in his contract that said that the copyrights could not be assigned to any other company unless it was "UNDER SUBSTANTIALLY THE SAME OWNERSHIP AND MANAGEMENT AS THE ORIGINAL COMPANY." Since CAM was owned by an Italian firm, and Camex and Camerica were owned by Vittorio, assignging the copyrights to the new companies would be a breach of contract. Moreover, Vittorio had tried to renegotiate Eric's publishing deal while reprenting that HE WAS STILL NEGOTIATING ON BEHALF OF CAM. That's fraud. Eric and Elliot filed a $10,000,000 law suit aginst Vittorio and his companies for breach of contract and fraud and another $10,000,000 suit for punitive damages. Over the next year or two, Eric ran up $100,000 worth of legal fees and was no closer to getting Vittorio into court. Because the contract had been signed in NY, legal action had to be pursued in NY. This meant hiring NY counsel, flying back and forth for depositions and much time and inconvenience. Eventually, Elliot left because he feared that even if Eric won, Vittorio might be "uncollectable." That means all the money might be in Swiss bank accounts with Vittorio's wife's name on them. Eric was depressed. All that time, all the royalties, all that money spent on lawyers seemed to have been for naught. But, just when things looked bleakest, out of the forest on a silver steed rode Sir Fred of Cleve, Eric's younger brother, who, as luck would have it, was an attorney. Sir Fred mounted the battle and for six more years they pursued the vile Vittorio. Finally, two weeks before the case was to go to court, Vittorio asked Sir Fred "What does your brother want from me?" Sir Fred replied "He wants your blood." Vittorio recoiled in horror at the tone of Sir Fred's statement. And his lawyer undoubtedly told him it was possible that, if the case got to court, he could lose. The next day, Vittorio's lawyers called to work out a deal. Eric wanted his copyrights back. Just the copyrights. And he wanted to be sure that any money he earned in the future would not find it's way into the pockets of Vittorio. Vittorio agreed and papers were signed. The four lad's former record company began releasing product on a new format called the CD, but alas, the other three were still signed to Vittorio under their DREAD PRODUCTION DEAL. Vittorio kept all their money. Once again, Eric had to sue Vittorio and eventually, reluctantly Vittorio agreed he would have to pay Eric. But he continued to collect the money owed to the other three lads and refused to pay them until..... One day, as if by some sort of kismet, one of the other lads, let's call him Wally, somehow found his way, quite accidentally, to the SAME LAW FIRM ERIC HAD HIRED to go after Vittorio, and finally, after thirty years, Wally regained his copyrights. When the boys got back together, they hired the firm to try and secure the copyrights of yet another of the boys. Let's call him Dave. Well, that brings us to today. The boys have rekindled their friendship, regained the rights to their songs, done a small tour and are busy putting together a new CD of their live performance in the City of Lost Angels. The attorney representing them is from the same firm where "Wyatt Earp in a business suit" still practices. Vittorio has moved to back to Europe. There are rumours that his wife is in an instituion. Celine Dion sold twenty eight million copies of an album containing one of Eric's songs. Il Divo have recorded it again and have sold millions more. This time, the money did not go to Vittorio. All is well in the Land of Cleve.

In unfortunately poor condition, but here's the original 1973 promo film for "Tonight":

You and I have spent more for super deluxe editions which had less important material. ([cough] Small Faces [cough])