Bob was born in Alexandria, VA, in 1950 and played both piano and clarinet as a youth. He recalled that during his formative years, the British Invasion had a profound effect on his choice of instruments. “When the Beatles came along, I knew I had to switch to the guitar. Or else how was I going to meet the girls?” he said. But he wanted to learn to play it correctly and took lessons in order to be classically trained.

But another super group from that era actually became much more influential - the Rolling Stones, upon whose repertoire he based his first band, the Missing Links, which he formed in his early teens. “We weren’t even good enough to be called a garage band, but rather a basement band. But we did finagle a few parties, since we were too young yet to perform in clubs,” he said.

But because he modeled himself on these blues espousing rebels rather than the Beatles, who were pop-oriented and therefore more “wholesome” and socially acceptable, I wondered how the former band was eventually to hold more sway.

“I guess I’ve always had a natural R&B penchant because I preferred to listen to radio stations like WUST, which broadcasted out of little hole in the wall on U Street, then the black Broadway in D.C, although I had to admit that I also tuned in to the main Top 40 station of that time, WEAM,” he said. But soon Bob began to notice also that the Stones in their early years borrowed heavily from Bo Diddley, Chuck Berry, and Muddy Waters, the latter figure proving particularly pivotal to this aspiring guitarist. “I guess the most significant event of my adolescence was sneaking in to see Muddy Waters at the Bohemian Caverns [which still exists on U Street] when I was just sixteen,” he added. After this momentous turning point, he began collecting blues records in earnest so that he could follow along on the guitar parts.

In the late 60s, he attended college at NYU, continuing his studies in classical guitar under the tutelage of a disciple of the Spanish virtuoso, Andres Segovia. “I remember this instructor vividly. He told me the first thing that I had to do was to properly manicure my fingers if I were to play with any authority,” said Bob.

But his Manhattan education was of short duration, as he transferred to be closer to home - American University near Georgetown. There, it wasn’t long before he was recruited by a heavy metal band, Taylor Park, which subsequently released a 45 rpm single during Bob’s tenure, “Apocalypse Waltz,” now, evidently, quite a collector’s item. Although the group entertained at many a media event during that time scheme, it never was Bob’s cup of tea. So, when the government rescinded his student deferment during the height of the Viet Nam War, Bob summarily quit the college.

Perhaps inspired by the Little Walter instrumental hit of 1952, Bob and three other like-minded musicians, including Jeff Lodsun (then of the group, Babe) on drums, inaugurated the Jukes and began living in a communal situation in Alexandria, VA, in the early 70s. “We were constantly fooling around with the tape machine in order to improve our sound,” said Bob fondly reflecting on those carefree early days. Bob also toyed with the notion of broadcasting satirical sketches of the news and would often create his own programs; hence the origin of his colorful moniker. 

At first, rather than performing publicly, Bob concentrated upon mimicking the finger picking techniques of Delta blues giants of yore, like Charlie Patton, Robert Johnson, and Mississippi John Hurt. “Most of what I play today, including Chuck Berry, I practiced, then perfected, back then,” he said.

With confidence abounding, this group in 1973 pooled their resources, acquiring an old bus with a generator on board in order to embark on a grand picaresque adventure discovering America a la Easy Rider or Jack Kerouac. The original idea was that they would be self-supporting by randomly picking up gigs along the way. “I guess I was really naïve even attempting this gypsy lifestyle. It wasn’t long before we lost everything, including all my equipment, when the bus disappeared” said Bob, who was reluctant to go into further detail about this fiasco.

Returning home, a sadder but wiser man, Bob was forced by economic circumstances to lodge with his parents and even drove a cab and worked construction for a spell in order to make ends meet. “I was just disgusted with the whole scene, and, in fact, as a result, was completely out of music for a few years,” he said.

It was actually Jeff Lodsun, then of Swing Shift (along with Billy Hancock and Bob Coleman) and currently with the J St. Jumpers (with guitarist Rusty Bogart), who succeeded in coaxing Bob out of his self-imposed exile by introducing him to aforementioned Childe Harold blues jam on Monday nights. “I figured that if the owner, Bill Hird, was nice enough to buy Jeff a new drum kit, he must be on the level, an all right guy,” said Bob, who soon became a charter member of the house band. Bob recalled that many budding musicians first cut their teeth there including guitarist Cathy Ponton (now Cathy King), and pianists Deanna Bogart and Daryl Davis, all who now lead their own outfits. “Not only players but kindred spirits would congregate there. I know of at least four couples who eventually married, including our selves, who first met at the Childe Harold,” said Bob, who also reminded me that this tradition is still carried on today, but further up Connecticut Ave at the Zoo Bar on Thursday nights.

Steve Kraemer, the pianist, and Bob seem to be in disagreement over who held down the bass position in the jam for the longest spell during the heyday of the Childe Harold from 1978-81. Steve claims it was Bryan Smith (now with the Seductones), while Bob asserts that it was Bob Coleman. But both agree that on any night, an all star cast of characters might assemble, creating a steady pool of local talent from which any prospective bandleader might select his future sidemen. In fact, at times, each night seemed like an audition.

During that period, rockabilly music was not only being rediscovered but embraced again by a loyal following, almost a cult, in protest to or as a refreshing, dynamic alternative to the insidious, mechanized rhythms of disco, abetted by films such as Saturday Night Fever, which was taking the rest of the country by storm. And in the territory, there were probably no better exponents of retro or “new wave” rockabilly than Billy Hancock and Tex Rubinowitz, not only seasoned veterans by then but also historical figures in this genre. And, with their immense popularity, they may have actually paved the way for national acts like Robert Gordon and the Stray Cats (with Brian Setzer), who followed close on their heels.

Back in the early 70s, Billy played bass in the late Danny Gatton’s eclectic trio, the Fat Boys, which included Dave Elliott (also now with the Seductones on drums). Along with his brother Dale in 1974, Billy, a serious record collector and archivist, resurrected the venerable R&B indie label of the 40s and 50s, Aladdin (Charles Brown, Amos Milburn, Lowell Fulson, the Five Keys, Thurston Harris, and Shirley & Lee) which had folded in 1960. Billy can be credited with recording on the reincarnated Aladdin the first efforts of the Nighthawks (Mark Wenner on harp, Jan Zukowski on bass, Pete Ragusa on drums, and Jimmy Thackery on guitar), Bobby Radcliff, Tex Rubinowitz, and Babe (with guitarist Eddie Eastridge, pianist Mitch Collins, bassist Bob Coleman, and drummer Jeff Lodsun), as well as the last hurrah of the D.C.’s most celebrated do-whop group, the Clovers. In fact, Hancock was such a blues aficionado that he had even set aside Aladdin’s initial release for none other than Arthur “Big Boy” Crudup of “That’s All Right” fame before his sudden demise in Nassawadox, VA, on March 28, 1974.

“Sheriff” Tex Rubinowitz was no less a legend in the region than Billy Hancock. In fact, he was a close friend, confidant, and guardian angel to Sun records’ hero, Charlie Feathers, up to his death in 1998, organizing several fund raisers and benefits in his behalf.  When I interviewed Charlie in 1980 at the now defunct No Fish Today bar in Seton Hill in Baltimore during a concert, he paid Tex the highest compliment when he said that his stage presentation and approach most closely conveyed the ideal rockabilly methodology of unhurriedness and restraint. Whatever it was, Tex embodied all the requisite affectations and mannerisms in order to cultivate this bad boy image, from the insinuating leer to the sidelong snarl. And he had the vocal delivery down pat - the measured growl, often punctuated by an impeccably timed hiccough. Tex’s style was slick and fluid like the Vitalis in his hair and his band always a well-oiled, perpetual motion machine. Dressing to the hilt, he was a sight to behold with his perfectly coiffed DA, reflective shades, black leather jacket, long sideburns, and the snakeskin shit kickers. Talk about a crowd pleaser.

Any musician would consider it an honor to be chosen as a sideman in either of Billy’s or Tex’s ensemble, and Bob was no exception. In fact, he would have the best of both worlds, becoming a member of each. So when Jeff suggested that he volunteer his expertise, Bob gladly stepped up.

During the late 70s and early 80s, Bob Swenson appears on nearly every release on Ripsaw records (operated by partners Jon “Spider” Strong and Jim Kirkoff out of Easton, PA), the main rockabilly vehicle for both Tex and Billy. For the former, Bob along with Billy, Bryan Smith, and Jeff, compose the supporting cast for area hits like “Bad Boy (212)” and “Hot Rod Man (214),” which also made the survey in London, England. As part of Billy’s Tennessee Rockets, Bob handles the guitar chores on “Boogie Disease (213),” “Miss Jessie Lee (215),” and “Lonely Blue Boy (216).” “I think I came along after his[Billy’s] first splash, ‘Rootie Tootie[211],’ and I know I didn’t play on any of Martha Hull’s [another Ripsaw artist] sides,” said Bob, who was often joined on Hancock’s sessions by guitarist Evan Johns and aforementioned pianist, Mitch Collins, formerly of Babe. Hancock’s singles at that juncture invariably coupled a smoldering rockabilly tune with a classic blues number like Muddy Waters’ “I Can’t Be Satisfied,” the flip of #211.

After a while, Tex tired of mixing and matching musicians with Billy and, instead, formed his own backup, the Bad Boys, which included bassist Johnny Castle (later with Bill Kirchen [of Commander Cody] & Too Much Fun and now with the Nighthawks), drummer Scotty Flowers, and guitarist Eddie Angel, who now leads the masked, neo-surf aggregate, Los Straightjackets. “We all went over to France in 1981 as part of a rockabilly package. Ironically, I began the tour with Billy and ended up back in Tex’s outfit. One night it was Billy, Evan, and I all playing guitar at the same time,” said Bob. From Bob’s description, the routing of this unwieldy contingent was atrocious, with stops virtually all over France, beginning in Paris, then to Lyon, Toulon, and Rouen. “We were supposed to go to Champagne country but the franc suddenly got devalued, so our junket was suddenly curtailed, since we were paid in their currency,” added Bob.

Bob managed to hang with Billy Hancock for a couple of years longer, not only accepting some heavy duty road assignments, which ultimately took their toll, but also accompanying him at the usual local hot spots, like the Takoma Tap Room, Danny Gatton’s Beneath It All (located below the Crazy Horse in Georgetown), and the aforementioned Psyche Delly in Bethesda. However, the simultaneous balancing act with the Kokomo Mojos and then the Seductones proved too much. “I think the end happened one night in 1983. Billy called and wanted me to go to Detroit for a gig. I think I may have consented, but I knew that was finally it,” Bob said.

Bob claims to have been “out of work for five minutes” when another needy, native rockabilly ace rang, Bob E. Rock. Bob E. Rock (real name, Robert Petersen) then an upright bassist was a former back-up singer and roadie for Tex Rubinowitz. Glad to stay anchored to his home turf, Bob signed on and remained two or so years, entertaining in regular haunts like the Friendship Station, Columbia Station in Adams Morgan, and Desperado’s in Georgetown on M Street across from the celebrated Cellar Door. This group was notable in that it included on drums, Bob Berberich, erstwhile drummer for Grin, which was fronted by area pop superstar, Nils Lofgren. Bob, later handling percussion duties in Cathy Ponton King’s blues band, was also married to Martha Hull of Ripsaw renown. “The relationships between band mates back then were incestuous, both literally and figuratively,” said Bob with a hearty laugh.

During Bob Newscaster’s stint with Bob E. Rock, there were two 1986 singles released; one, an Elvis tribute, “Humes High [the King’s alma mater],” NCP 002, which excluded Bob, since it originated from a five-year-old session, and a holiday novelty item, “Santa’s Saturday Night,” NCP 003, by Jimmy the Kid, which included Bob on lead and Bob E. on bass. Jimmy the Kid was in reality Jimmy Kirkoff, later Jim Kirk, former associate of Ripsaw, who now exclusively headed NCP, No Club Productions. Bob also contributes a couple of cameos on a CD retrospective of this bandleader, This Is Bob E. Rock, released in 2000, also on NCP.

But by the late 80s, Tex Rubinowitz again was seeking competent replacements and both Bob and Bob E. (with drummer Buddy Grandell) came to his rescue. During that time, both Mark Gretschel’s Twist & Shout in Bethesda and Seth Hurwitz’s(brother of bluesman Lips Lackowitz) 9:30 Club were up and running and Tex’s group was considered almost a fixture in each, so many times was it booked. “We were also doing a lot of colleges and festivals, like the Blue Bayou in Upper Marlboro [MD]. At that point, Tex was really packing them in and we by necessity had to graduate to bigger rooms and venues,” said Bob. One memorable engagement during his second tour of duty with Tex was supplying the backup (with Bob E.) to 50s rockabilly superstar, Jack Scott, in Glen Burnie, MD.

When not committed to Tex during this interval, Bob also was commuting to Baltimore to the Cat’s Eye Pub in Fell’s Point on Sunday afternoons wherein he provided the hot lead guitar licks for Steve Kraemer’s Bluesicians of that vintage, who included Glenn Moomau on harp, Bryan Smith on bass, and Jeff Lodsun on drums. Nonetheless, as dedicated a bluesman as he is, Bob had to finally give it up, as the round trip, coupled with the meager compensation, finally exacted its price.

As the 90s dawned, Tex Rubinowitz, citing a number of reasons, including burnout, abruptly left the stage and retired.  Bob, again a free agent, soon latched on with pianist Daryl Davis, whose still crowded itinerary puts him all over the map, including Ocean City, MD. “Yeah, it was a hectic period. But Daryl’s bread and butter was the swing dance circuit, which was incredibly well attended. They were sweet gigs and the money was decent,” said Bob.

After Daryl, Bob took up with local blues harp man extraordinaire, Larry Wise, for a brief span of time and also was contracted by the D.C. Blues Society for a series of  special concerts, many about which he has extensively written. Nonetheless, as time wore on, the gigs became more and more infrequent and Bob, again, gave up publicly performing for several years, focusing upon his day job.

When Andrea, who by the way he made an honest woman in 1997, wanted to revive the Seductones in 2001, Bob without hesitation acquiesced. “What was I going to do? Say no? Especially after she had all the pieces in place,” said Bob with a chuckle.

Ironically, after the second installment of Dagmar and the Seductones took flight, Bob began receiving several offers for his services again, including Billy Hancock, with whom he appeared at Whitlow’s on Wilson Blvd in Arlington for a CD release party and later the Birchmere. Next, another blast from the past came calling, J.P. McDermott, a western bop band, which once had opened for the Seductones at the sadly missed Gentry on Capitol Hill nearly two decades ago. Yes, with such old standbys continually demanding his presence, Bob Newscaster can now even ponder the feasibility of being self sufficient as a musician. “No, on second thought, I wouldn’t go that far. We can never have enough work,” he said.

But the invitations are beginning to roll in for Bob and Andrea and the Seductones, as they have now become the darlings of the swing dance set, especially at the Clarendon Ballroom in Arlington, and have enjoyed many happy returns to clubs such as Mark Gretschel’s Half Moon Bar-B-Que in Silver Spring and JV’s in Falls Church, VA. And the name recognition has steadily evolved, especially after the release of their CD, Litta Bitta Love, which garnered three nominations in the Roots Rock category of the annual Wammie (Washington Area Music Association) awards of 2004 - Best Group, Best Recording, and Best Instrumentalist.

Personally, I think the future of Dagmar and the Seductones is as rosy as their CD cover. I tried to explain to Andrea that there aren’t too many chanteuses out there - especially those possessed of such a rich and voluptuous voice - plying their trade, much less those displaying the versatility with which to do justice to a wide range of material, including jazz, blues, R&B, and “country weepers,” to borrow her characterization. And thus being one of such an endangered species, she has become quite a commodity. And it certainly doesn’t hurt her cause in the least that she has chosen to surround herself with a Bob Newscaster, Bryan Smith, or Dave Elliot, all solid professionals, whose collective experience in the music business exceeds a hundred years.
Dagmar and the Seductones may not make it. But they can rest easy knowing that they’ve given it their best shot. And if nothing else, they have proven that it’s never too late to follow your dreams.
Larry Benicewicz