Bob's Vintage Guitars

The Who rock memorabilia show opens today

Sidney & Berne Davis Center displays John Entwistle bass guitar, spider necklace
BY CHARLES RUNNELLS • CRUNNELLS@NEWS-PRESS.COM • JULY 17, 2009

Everywhere John Entwistle went, his one-of-a-kind bass guitar and "Boris the Spider" necklace usually went with him.
Now The Who bassist has gone where his belongings can't travel — he died of a heart attack in 2002 — and his beloved Buzzard bass and Boris necklace remain behind.
They're more than just mere belongings, though.
They're artifacts from the golden age of rock 'n' roll.
"He changed the face of music," said friend Steve Luongo, who drummed in The John Entwistle Band.
Those same artifacts are on display this weekend at Sidney & Berne Davis Art Center — along with other Who memorabilia, vintage rock posters from the 1960s and ’70s, signed guitars and more.
It’s probably the highest-profile event ever held at the fledgling art center, said center director Jim Griffith.
Sure, he said, they’ve had big-name Broadway actors and jazz musicians.
“But this is rock n’ roll,” he said. “It’s a whole other audience.”
In all, there will be 800-1,000 pieces in the show, said Paul Cola, a board member for The John Entwistle Foundation. The exhibit — plus an invitation-only party Sunday night — is a fundraiser for the foundation, which helps sick and poor kids get access to musical instruments and training.
The show features other rock memorabilia, including about 30 guitars signed by The Rolling Stones, Aerosmith, Sammy Hagar, James Taylor and more. All those are for sale.
But the Entwistle items, organizers said, should be the biggest draw.
Before those things arrived at the center, though, most of them lived at Luongo’s south Fort Myers house. Luongo is a former drummer for Mountain, Rat Race Choir and The John Entwistle Band (best known for “Horror Rock,” the theme song in the cartoon Van-pires”).
Recently, Luongo showed off many of those pieces to a visiting news-press.com reporter. From a back room, he hauled out a black guitar case, clicked open the latches and carefully lifted the lightweight, angular Buzzard bass into the light.
“That’s the one,” Luongo said. “That’s an old friend.”
He smiled weakly.
“I sat next to him every night and listened to it bark,” Luongo explained. “For years.”
For Luongo, these pieces are more than just memorabilia.
They’re memories.
And this weekend’s event isn’t just any show. It’s a tribute to his best friend — a man who happened to be the bass player in one of the most important rock bands of all time, The Who.
The necklace and the bass guitar will sit alongside rare 45 RPM records from Entwistle’s personal collection, outfits he wore on tour with The Who, handwritten lyrics and pen-and-ink drawings of his bandmates.
The Boris the Spider necklace, of course, gets its name from the classic Who song written by Entwistle. The bassist commissioned the pendant — the first of several — to commemorate his first hit with the band.
At his house, Luongo lifted the top off a cardboard box to reveal the spider. Its onyx body and ruby eyes gleamed in the kitchen light. “Don’t worry,” he joked. “He’s been anesthetized.”
Luongo smiled.
“He probably won’t bite you,” he said.
The Boris necklaces were special to Entwistle, said his son, Chris Entwistle of Stroud in the county of Gloucestershire, England. It’s rare to find a photo without him wearing one version of the pendant.
“The spider became very much associated with him,” his son said. “He had to play the song at every concert.”
John Entwistle wrote the lighthearted tune after chatting with friends about movie stars and wondering aloud what kind of animal would best represent them. Horror actor Boris Karloff, they decided, would be a spider.
John Entwistle wrote the song the next day.
“He said it only took him seven minutes to write” his son said.
Each piece in the show triggers countless memories, Luongo said. He’s only now gotten to the point where he can do something like this: Talk openly about his friend and immerse himself again in Entwistle’s world.
The wound still aches. While showing off the memorabilia, Luongo accidentally stumbled upon an old photo from June 27, 1987 — the day he and Entwistle met.
“Wow,” Luongo said, his voice choked, his eyes tearing. “I didn’t know this was in here.”
It gets easier with each passing year, though.
“This is the first time I can talk about him without turning into an idiot,” Luongo said. “I still can’t listen to any of our records.
“It’s painful. It’s extremely painful.”