Chris Stratton - Then Came Bronson #3: Rock!

[dem bones]

Chris Stratton - Then Came Bronson #3: Rock! (Pyramid, July 1970)

A swinging rock festival with bad vibrations leads Bronson into an explosive soul-spinning adventure

FOLK ROCK FREAK-OUT

The rock festival at Lake Sands was supposed to be the biggest ever. It was a weekend bash and everybody was going to be there — everybody, that is, except Bronson. Bronson was on the move and had no intention of cooling his gears.

But all of a sudden the whole scene was headed for a bad trip to nowhere ... and there was a groovy maxi-blonde folk singer with big problems ... and a strange-little-rich-girl with weird ideas ... and a savage bike gang out for a lot more than kicks ... and as if that wasn't enough to keep Bronson around, the local fuzz seemed more than anxious to find ways to make him stay and face the music....

Don't miss Michael Parks as Bronson in NBC's smash-hit TV series

"Listen, baby," Renee whispered. "You're a bike freak and I'm a groovy lady; why the hell should those guys on the other side of the bushes get uptight over a couple of cats like us?"

To be honest, I'm not even sure that Jim Bronson is worthy a place in Agro corner. He's attached to no outlaw biker gang and, so far ((p. 58 of 188), comes over as an easy-going fellow, polite even to the fuzz who are always hassling him because they think every bike bum is a Hells Angel. Bronson's an ex-reporter who jacked in the job, bought himself a Harley Sportster and set off in his black leather jacket and jeans to find "freedom" - today, for example, he's found the freedom to run out of petrol in the sweltering Arizona desert.

Enter - in a flurry of peace signs - amiable hippy Sammy Hoyt and his heavily pregnant wife Anne. Sammy helps Bronson load the Harley into the back of his decrepit camper van, and the trio set off for the the new town of Pinto and the nearest gas station. Sammy's an aspiring musician and the couple are heading for The First Annual Peace, Truth, Folk, Rock, Soul Bash on Lake Sands, just outside Pinto, but that's even if it goes ahead. Promoter Chuck Dillon has encountered much local opposition to the event and his advertising campaign is frequently being targeted by vandals. When Jim Bronson wanders into the local bar, Chuck thinks he may have the answer to his problem and buys him lots of beer. Could Jim and his gang look after security (news of how Sonny Barger and the boys quietly went about their business at Altamonte has been slow to reach Chuck, it seems .... )? Bronson explains that he rides alone and whoever those motor-sickle hoodlums Dillon has spotted on the lake are, they're nothing to do with him. He's only interested in freedom.

Against his better judgement, Bronson decides to stick around. On returning to the Hoyt's camper, he finds them being questioned by fuzz who can't believe that a person with long hair could have legally obtained as many $50 bills as Sammy is packing when he's driving such a crap heap. Turns out that Sammy has a wealthy and generous pop, but refuses to hit him for more money and a brand new, state-of-the-art mobile home as that would be all wrong and he wouldn't feel 'free'. Bronson recognises a kindred spirit.

This easy bonhomie is all very well but it sure doesn't make for a scintillating read. Obviously, it's not the kind of novel where an army of killer crabs are going to invade the free fest - I think we can safely give up on that; they'd have mentioned it in the blurb otherwise - so the best we can hope for is some mild sex and violence if that's not too much to ask?

Bronson turned to see what had to be the tallest girl he had ever encountered. She stood at the edge of a small clearing, her long blonde hair falling absolutely straight all around her nearly to the waist. She wore a tan maxi-coat with about a million buttons on it, none of them fastened.

"Hey," she said in a low, throaty voice. "Do you cats have anything strong to drink?".

This is Renee, far out lead singer with Brave New World who'll be opening the Peace Bash. Renee is the only member of Brave New World who doesn't sport a droopy mustache, so we can dismiss the rest as very minor characters. Chuck Dillon's fashion-sense notwithstanding - "a jacket in a garish floral pattern, bellbottoms and a turtleneck" - Renee is the best thing to happen to the book so far as she speaks fluent hippy gibberish and fills a pair of 'chocolate corduroy bells' most admirably. Renee reckons Sammy's got what it takes to be in a real hip groovy band, but it's Bronson she has the hots for. Unfortunately, he's just driven his bike off a cliff or something. I'll get back to you once I find out what's happened.

[dem bones]

Bronson survived his plunge into the lake with just a few bruises, some minor scratches to his bike and a nasty knee-rip in his jeans. Hardly has he hit the water than Dina Chapman (outfit: nautical-but-nice sailor girl threads) pulls up in her luxury boat. She's the daughter of mega-rich Russ Chapman, the most prominent and influential citizen in Lake Sand, who's virulently opposed to Peace Festivals, Flower Children, musicians and, most of all, motorcyclists: Bronson saw him skulking around the camp yesterday looking terrified. But of what?

Dina is a faster worker than Renee and in less time than it takes to tell she's relieved Jim of his jeans, though only to provide him with a complete new outfit, gratis, because she's the proprietor of the local boutique, Dina's Duds (the kind of 'head shop' Frank Zappa gave both barrels to on We're Only In It For The Money). To be truthful, I've given up hope of seeing any sizzling hot hippy love action in Rock!. Into the second half of the novel and no-one's so much as smoked a joint. Brave New World have even sworn off booze and cigs for the festival's duration so the 'fuzzies' will have scant opportunity to bust 'em for anything other than ponging a bit and impersonating a wild rock band. Maybe the violence will be worth the wait but I'm not optimistic.

The shop was a single large room crammed with colorful clothing, neckerchiefs, Indian costume jewellery, wide, metal-studded cowboy belts .... "for dudes, strictly," she remarked. "I hate the stuff but you have to sell it in this part of the country ... Pick out what you like"

Bronson opts for the nearest thing to almost normal looking denims, but Dina is insistent that they're not him and fobs him off with "a pair of bells in a wild psychedelic pattern", a snazzy green shirt with elephantine pointed collar and white tennis shoes until he looks more like a "rich hippy". Once he's comes to terms with this dramatic new image, Jim inexplicably approves. He's not exactly the most impressive biker we've met to date, is he? Perhaps all this defiant shunning of allegiance to any motorcycle tramp chapter may be something he had no say in.

But what's this?

"Let's tie him up and throw him on the fire."
"Huh-uh. Don't you know burning flesh stinks?"
"We could skin him first then."
"Hey, maybe we could."

Oh, thank goodness! Bronson has finally located the hoodlum biker gang's hideout, one of their number has caught him eavesdropping in the bushes and now he's being escorted into the camp with a knife at his throat - and their leader, Candy, has just returned with Renee perched on the back of his "hawg"! He, Dude, Bingo, Scarlet, Wilmer and the rest are far more the part - they drink BEER, guffaw about "birds" in general but particularly "big blonde numbers" and seem to have some kind of heavy deal going on with Russ Chapman whereby they'll trash the festival before it can take place. Just when it looks like we might be in for some excitement, trust the fuzzies to choose that exact moment to roust the outlaws, leaving Candy with no option but to reluctantly let his captives go! And to crown it all, even though Renee's swapped her maxi-dress for a bum-freezer mini which shows off her shapely legs to good advantage, Bronson's still behaving the perfect gentleman and we're fast running out of novel!

It's a page-turner to be sure, but will anything ever happen in this book?

[dem bones]

"This is the way to travel, baby!" Renee shouted as they topped a small knob and her legs flew up.

What

This is unquestionably one of the oddest novels I've read, which is probably something whoever wrote the blurb could never lay claim to. "A savage bike gang out for a lot more than kicks", huh? How do you reconcile that with Candy's supposed "motorcycle hoodlums", Wild Ones Anonymous, an outfit so benign they make the Hari Krishna's look like the Shankhill Road Butchers? As Scarlet sheepishly confesses to St. Jim when they're banged up in a holding cell together (but only so they can help Renee, who's been busted on a spurious dope charge. They haven't done anything as unlawful as break the law for personal gain): "You could call us bike gang drop outs. All of us used to belong to more or less outlaw gangs, and at one time or another we figured there had to be something more in the world beside booze and chicks and stomping anybody who looked at us wrong. Dig? So we sort of drifted together and started a kind of community up in the hills in New Mexico. Just a place where we could live in peace with our chicks - all of us are even married - and still stay with the bikes. You dig?"

Turns out that Russ Chapman hired Wild Ones Anonymous to burn down one of his empty properties so the hippies would be blamed and Woodstock II cancelled. Bronson scuppered that one with the aid of ten nice bikers like himself recruited around the site and the furious Chapman had Renee set up on the phony rap in reprisal. But now he, the Wild Ones and even the very-pleasant-once-you-get-to-know-them fuzz realise the error of the ways and The First Annual Peace, Truth, Folk, Rock, Soul Bash must go ahead at all costs! The charges against Renee are dropped, Bronson gets her to Lake Sands just as Brave New World are about to be thrown off the bill and replaced by Joan Baez, and she swims across the water to arrive onstage in just her white bikini to a reception that would turn Amy Winehouse green. Even Russ Chapman is grooving along and the fuzz are wearing daffodils in their hat-bands. Pity Bronson has to miss much of the performance as he's too busy doing a death-defying leap across a ravine so he can assist at the birth of the Hoyt's baby. And he still never gets to have a shag! But then, nobody else does either. At a pop festival ....

A feel-good biker novel. Was there ever such a lunatic premise? Worst thing is, I sure hope I can track down ... Then Came Bronson and Then Came Bronson - No. 2: The Ticket now ....

[franklinmarsh]

Fantastic review Dem. Its a long way from Bonnie...

[dem bones]

And at least now Psychomania's celebrated the Living Dead can point to Rock! as proof that they are not the most crap, least hard bike gang of all time.

Stop Press: Then Came Bronson - The Site!

[helrunar]

Man, I dig it! 

cheers, Hel

[ripper]

I've heard of Then Came Bronson, but have no recollection of seeing an episode on TV, so maybe it didn't make it across the pond.

Dem, your review reminds me of my so far single brush with a Partridge Family tie-in. It was all set up for haunted house hi-jinks, wannabe Manson family, and escaped arsonist on the prowl, but it turned out to be a damp squib, but at least the Partridge Family tie-ins were aimed at kids/young teens, so had an excuse for being bland. I suppose, though, if the TCB tie-in was apeing the TV series, then there might have been some constraints over how much sex and violence could be included, as US TV back then had very strict guidelines as to what could be shown. Having said that, the blurb for Then Came Bronson does promise far more than it seems to have delivered. Despite the blandness, I am inspired to track down one of these tie-ins.

[dem bones]

Dec 4, 2019 6:00:04 GMT ripper said:

Dem, your review reminds me of my so far single brush with a Partridge Family tie-in. It was all set up for haunted house hi-jinks, wannabe Manson family, and escaped arsonist on the prowl, but it turned out to be a damp squib

The classic Partridge Family #2: The Haunted Hall! They laughed at me when I proudly brandished my copy at the recent pulp fair! Fools! They're not laughing now!

Have never seen copies of the other Then Came Bronson paperbacks, but if they are anything like #3: Rock! ... It is easily among my top 10 favourite most terrible novels of all time, worse even than Dennis Wheatley's Gateway To Hell, a sentence I prayed I'd never have cause to write. A Vault masterpiece.

[ripper]

Just having a quick look at ABE, the cheapest TCB paperback is around £20 inc postage--yikes!

William Johnston was the author of the first volume, while Chris Stratton took over from TCB 2. Oh, and apparently there was a model kit of Bronson's Harley-Davidson, so doubtless a lot of teenage boys bought it while drooling over owning the real thing.