No Newts is bad news

Breaking up, Neil Sedaka once told us in song, is hard to do.

But not for the Lynchburg-based Blue Newt Band. In their case, breaking up was easier than finding a new lead guitar player.

“We had been through a lot of them,” conceded band member Glenn McGrath.

Including a dentist (Mike Davis, the group’s co-founder), a psychiatrist (“Every band needs one,” said Blue Newt Bob Harvey), a short-lived front man who joined the military before playing a single Blue Newt gig, another player (Gene Temple) just out of the service and local talent Tommy Cox.

“Tommy is quite the guitar slinger,” McGrath said. “I’m not a great rhythm guitar player, so I was loving it when Tommy was with the band. If there was something I couldn’t figure out, he could convey it to me almost immediately — he was a guitar instructor, after all.”

But Cox, too, ultimately went his own way, citing other commitments.

“Every time we got a new lead guitar player, we’d all have to adjust,” McGrath said. “Finally, we just decided it wasn’t worth it.”

Therefore, tomorrow night at the Ellington will be the band’s last “public” appearance (not counting a Lynchburg College Homecoming dance and several weddings for which they’ve already been booked).

Maybe.

“We might be like the Eagles and play reunion concerts every year to make money,” Harvey said.

Actually, the Blue Newts (named after a home-brewed beer that McGrath used to make) were never in it for the money — a good thing in a city where live music venues are almost as scarce as Ben & Jerry’s in Antarctica. McGrath, for instance, was a vice-president at Centra Health. Bob Harvey has had a number of jobs over the years, including teaching in the public school system.

“He decided he wanted to record our second CD,” McGrath said, “so one day a truck backed up to his house with a state-of-the-art digital studio.”

McGrath and Harvey are both older than 60 (I’ll leave it at that) but insist that their dismantling of the Newts is not because of lack of creative energy.

“I’m taking bagpipe lessons now,” McGrath said.

Although there is a tendency among musical snobs to disparage “cover bands,” I submit that it takes a special talent to do it well. If you play your own material, chances are the audience has never heard any of it before — and, therefore, has no expectations. But if you’re offering them “Mustang Sally” or “Enter Sandman” or “Sweet Home Alabama,” you’re out on a limb.

“Gene (Temple) always wanted us to change the songs a little bit for that very reason,” McGrath said.

The Newts weren’t polishing up their act for Conan O’Brien. They weren’t aiming for Nashville or L.A. They just wanted to show audiences a good time.

And vice versa.

“Bob used to sing ‘Margaritaville,’” McGrath recalled, “and there’s one line in the song that goes ‘All I have to show is this brand-new tattoo.’ So we used to holler out, ‘Show us your tattoos!’ and people would. One night, this lady walked up in front of the bandstand, turned around and dropped her pants to show us two matching dolphins.”

McGrath didn’t take up the guitar until he was close to 40, although he had previously played harmonica in a couple of medically based rock bands called “Triple Bypass” and “The Defibrillators.”

As for Harvey, he said, “My goal is to outlive Keith Richards” (the hollow-cheeked, skeletal Rolling Stones guitarist).

The current Blue Newt incarnation includes drummer Tony Rini, bass player Mark O’Hara and Jenny Reynolds, one of the best singers in Central Virginia. She can do Janis Joplin, Chrissy Hynde of the Pretenders, or any of a number of Motown queens.

“Pretty amazing, considering we found her on the karaoke circuit,” McGrath said. “She’d never sang in a band before.”

The title of the band’s latest CD is “Growing Old Disgracefully,” but you can’t buy it.

“We can’t sell it,” Harvey said, “because we don’t have the rights to any of the songs.”

So you have to hear them live, which isn’t a bad thing. And if you want to see the Ellington show, I’d suggest showing up early.

Or wait for the reunion tour.