MACK’S MONSTERS
FAns PAy triBute to loCAl MusiC leGend BoB MACk At dAnCe PArty reunion
Bob Mack isn’t just part of Pittsburgh music history. He’s a chapter unto himself.
Mack made a lot of noise here starting in the late ’50s as a disc jockey before branching out into other areas of the music business, including producing concerts and records.
On Saturday, Attic Record Store in Millvale is presenting Bob Mack’s Back to the ’60s Dance Reunion, where some of those crazy kids who used to dance to the songs he played at record hops throughout the Tri-State area will gather to pay tribute to him. The sold-out event at Futules’ Harmar House in Cheswick will feature Mack, along with guest DJ Ronnie Ausman, spinning the trademark “Mack’s Monsters,” as he used to call them.
Mack, whose real name is Robert McConnell, grew up in McMurray and was pretty sure he was going to be an airplane pilot some day. Then he started collecting records as a teen — obscure rhythm ’n’ blues and rock ’n’ roll records unearthed in the junk bins of record stores, jukebox operators and record distributors.
“You’d have to go through maybe a hundred or a thousand, but you’d find incredible rhythm ’n’ blues records that were never played, never made the charts and were better than anything on the jukeboxes and radio of the day,” Mack said.
He was inspired by radio pioneers such as Porky Chedwick in Pittsburgh and Alan Freed in Cleveland. “There were a few brave DJs in all-white radio who started to play rhythm and blues in the ’50s.”
In 1958, Mack took over the dances hosted by Barry Kaye, a popular DJ who hosted a weekly record hop at the Masonic Temple in Washington. Mack started playing the unknown records from his own collection. “They created pandemonium when we played them. People went crazy.”
It was the beginning of a unique music scene where records that weren’t being played anywhere else became regional hits. “Something happened in this city that no one anywhere else on this planet experienced. The most exciting place in the world was Pittsburgh, Pa. The reason was really the music, the unknown records. That’s what the kids went crazy for.”
How did he know a great record when he heard it? “When you play 100 records or a thousand, you eventually come to one that just blows you away. It had to have all the ingredients. It was the group harmony, the haunting melody, the major and minor chord changes, the lead singer with an unusual voice. I’m not a musician but when I hear it, it just gives me chills.”
He added a few ingredients of his own — including theater-sized speakers for a big sound and adjustable turntables, so that records could be speeded up and made more danceable. “We adjusted the speed. We drove the beat. The dancers loved it. That little Masonic Temple hall was packed with 500 to 600 kids. That’s when I knew we had discovered lightning in a bottle.”
He started renting space in clubs, banquet halls and theaters. By the early ’60s, the chain had grown to 14 venues throughout the region that drew thousands. One of the DJs who worked for him and got his start in those clubs was a kid named Mike Metrovich, who later became popular radio personality Mad Mike.
Mack realized that many people were either too young or too old to hear the music at the dances, so he decided to do a radio show. He did a demo tape in his home studio and met with the late Jim Psihoulis, owner of the former WZUM-AM in Carnegie. “By the time I got home, the phone was ringing. Jim says. ‘I don’t know what this is, but it’s unbelievable.” In 1963, “Mack’s Wax Museum” went on the air and quickly became popular among teen listeners.
Mack went on to present concerts with top national acts, opened a record store Downtown and launched two record labels.
And he was a central figure in one of the all-time great Pittsburgh music stories — driving an obscure record called “Hanky Panky” to the top of the charts and launching the careers of Tommy James and the Shondells. One day a guy brought a box of records to the store to sell. Mack bought them and started to listen. “One of them was a little slow to be a good dance record, but it had that big beat.” It was by an unknown group from Niles, Mich., called The Shondells. “It never went anywhere. We speeded it up and played it at the dance clubs, and the kids went crazy.
“Hanky Panky” became a Pittsburgh hit
and all the stations were playing it. Mack tracked down the group’s singer Tommy Jackson — whose last name was later changed to James — and persuaded him to come to Pittsburgh and see what was happening with the record. That led to a trip to New York and a deal with Roulette Records. “Hanky Panky” became the first in a string of hits for the band, and the rest is history.
When he meets people who used to go to his dances, they all tell him the same thing, he says. “Those were the greatest days of our lives. We didn’t know it then. There’s never been anything that equaled the excitement of what was going on. It was quite a time. They were the best days of my life as well.”
Mack is sorry that people who wanted to be at Saturday’s event are missing out because it sold out so quickly. Attic Records is planning an encore in October. “Hopefully they’ll have a second chance.
“If they hadn’t flocked to the dance clubs in the ’60s, if they hadn’t become loyal listeners to the radio show, it wouldn’t have happened. They’re doing this to honor me. I’m doing this to honor them.”