Between rock and a soft place

 

The Record
Kitchener, Ontario

 

The Osmond Brothers (Wayne, Merrill and Jay)

Just as their 1970s 'Led Zeppelin moment' was kicking in, the Osmond brothers stalled their careers for Donny and TV

Joel Rubinoff
KITCHENER

The first thing Osmond fans should know, but may not, is that the lead singer on hit songs like Down By The Lazy River, Yo Yo and One Bad Apple was not -- I repeat, not -- toothsome teen idol Donny, who sang back-up before leaving for a winsomely buoyant solo career, but his cherubic, raspy-voiced older sibling, Merrill.

The second thing you should know is that as far as Merrill -- who holds no grudges -- is concerned, that fact alone may have saved the brothers' lives during a European rock gig back in the group's 70s heyday.

"Crazy Horses is one of the biggest-selling records we ever had,'' the personable 55-year-old, calling in from Utah, chuckles about the squeaky clean quintet's rare foray into hard-rock. "And it was introduced to France where no one knew our (wholesome) image, but they'd heard the song on the radio, so our concert sold out within minutes."

"But when we finally walked onstage in our white jumpsuits, the whole audience was Zeppelin, with long hair and drugs all over the arena, and we were these little munchkins running around onstage in jumpsuits singing this rock and roll song they all loved."

Things could have gone badly, Merrill recalls, with the brothers' wholesome Mormon image, cheesetastic choreography and reliance on pubescent pin-up Donny, then 14, to whip up what would, under normal circumstances, be a frenzied crowd of teenyboppers.

"We knew what we were faced with," laughs the genial middle Osmond, checking into Centre in the Square Friday for a career-spanning concert with brothers Wayne and Jay (Alan, sadly, has been sidelined with multiple sclerosis).

"So we just put Donny in the back playing his piano and the three older ones did the show up front with me singing lead. We vamped Crazy Horses for about a half-hour."

It's one of many surreal moments from a career spanning an incredible 50 years, from the original band of brothers -- Jay, Wayne, Merrill and Alan -- singing barbershop harmonies on The Andy Williams Show, through a chart-topping bout of 70s Osmondmania, 80s flirtation with country music, triumphant reunion tour last year to mark a half-century in showbiz and, according to Merrill, a sudden "resurgence" in all things Osmond.

"I'll tell you, it's an absolute miracle,'' enthuses the bearded, snow-topped grandfather of six, who looks suspiciously like Kenny Rogers. "If you had told me even a year ago it would be happening, I would have told you it's crazy. I myself have a website, merrilldavisosmond.com, that gets a million hits a week -- and that's just mine!''

He laughs. "I'm an old man, y'know, but hundreds, if not thousands of people show up at airports . . . still! If a radio station were to announce our arrival in some areas of the world, you'd have to have massive security to take us out the back door!"

Not so much in North America, perhaps, where the popularity of Donny and Marie has always eclipsed their more anonymous sibs, but when you factor in a musical legacy that includes every boy band from New Kids On The Block to 'N SYNC and the Jonas Brothers, their influence becomes easier to fathom.

"I think basically there were a lot of Osmond fans in the 70s and 80s that weren't really vocal,'' notes Merrill. "Maybe because they were almost persecuted for being an Osmond fan when Sweet and Innocent and Go Away Little Girl (Donny's solo hits) came out.

"But now that it's sort of hip to be called an Osmond fan, they're just coming out of the woodwork.''

Hip to be an Osmond fan? It's a tough concept to wrap one's head around until you realize that to Merrill, the Osmonds have always been hip, at least in theory.

Sure, they pranced about like New Age vaudevillians in their form-fitting spandex jumpsuits -- courtesy of Elvis Presley's designer -- went head-to-head with teenybop rivals like the Jackson 5 and seemed only slightly less two-dimensional than the animated characters they voiced on their cheesy Saturday morning cartoon, The Osmonds.

But in their hearts, Merrill insists, they were rock 'n' roll revolutionaries.

"There was an album called The Plan which was sort of like our White album," he says of the Mormon concept album patterned after the Beatles double disc tour de force. "It's sort of hip to be able to put that album back on and play it and see how progressive it really was in the 70s."

And then there's the guitar riff they borrowed from -- get this -- Led Zeppelin's Immigrant Song on their smoochy top 15 single, Hold Her Tight.

"We were major fans of Led Zeppelin and still are," insists Merrill. "And we grew up loving their music and they, of course, became our buddies too."

Zeppelin, Merrill insists, were so impressed with the Osmonds that the shaggy, depravity-drenched party animals got onstage with them during a concert in 76.

"At Earl's Court in London," he recalls proudly. "They came over to see our show and we all got together and met their families, and it blew us away because sometimes the image the industry paints about certain people and what reality really is, is different."

Image. It's something the Osmonds have grappled with -- in both a positive and negative way -- for most of the 50 years they've been flitting in and out of the pop culture spotlight.

It was their ticket to stardom as a generation of baby boom boppers embraced their savvy pop instincts and perky charm, but it made them the butt of jokes as music fans grew more sophisticated and turned on, tuned in and dropped out.

Never mind their prog-rock aspirations and Led Zep love affair. Critics, irritated by their toothy grins and pious religious values, had a field day, dismissing them as kitschy throwbacks whose biggest legacy was to provide a musical template for the schlock-o-rific Brady Kids.

It didn't bother Merrill, who had demons of his own to grapple with: second-tier status to kid brother Donny and the fact the Osmonds made a collective decision to back the Donny & Marie Show just when the band's musical mojo was peaking.

"Our family was such that we would all get behind whoever it was that was taking off," notes Merrill. "When Donny and Marie were chosen, all of us basically jumped in and produced that show. It became a major family affair, and so the record side of our lives just . . . stopped."

"In hindsight, it really has been a very frustrating thing, especially for me and Wayne, because we were just in that whole rock era, and being the lead singer, I was just getting ready to start doing my thing, so there is a point of contention there."

But with age, he says, comes perspective.

"Now we look back and say 'Hey, we learned a lot.' I've learned how to produce a major TV show and motion pictures and syndication and all kinds of stuff I could never learned otherwise. My brothers and I are so grateful. There's no one that has an attitude problem, no one bitter over what happened. We're grateful for everything we have."

And the critics?

"We're not concerned about critics anymore. We've earned our place, we know who we are and what we're about.

"Elvis Presley (one of many show biz legends who befriended the clan) told us, 'The moment your fans start bringing their children and they become fans, then you've bypassed the generation gap' -- and that's really what has happened. The fans are bringing their kids, and they're getting excited again about what's going on with these old grey-haired guys.

"We've done our thing, whether anyone likes us or not, and the fan base continues to grow."

~~~

CONCERT

The Osmonds

Centre in the Square; Friday, May 1, 7:30 p.m.

Tickets: $35 to $70; 519-1570 or www.centre-square.com